Author's Note:

Thank you to honeyMellon, Kimikozumi, scarletsaber, The Crimson Guy, SoulMore, Guest, Cinder Fall 39, and RSK1066 for your lovely reviews! I really appreciate your patience and your persistence!

Would anyone be interested in a slightly more M-rated interaction between Ichigo and Grimmjow? If enough people request it, I can write a supplemental chapter for this story.

In other news, I've started a new job – my first real one after college! The eight-to-five schedule leaves less time for writing than I'm used to, and only a handful of vacation days feels very odd, but I promise I won't abandon this story. We're getting closer to the end, after all!

Chapter 11: Hunters and Prey

The next day, it was as if nothing had ever happened. When Ichigo's father barreled into the room to wake him up, Grimmjow was nowhere to be found, though they'd fallen asleep tangled in sweat-damp sheets. The espada must have slipped out sometime during the night; there wasn't a trace of spiritual pressure left in the room. The only evidence that he'd been there at all was the pile of hastily-discarded clothing thrown in the direction of the hamper.

That realization left a dull ache in Ichigo's chest. He halfheartedly fended off his dad's attack, sending him flying out the open window, then slammed the window shut with excessive force.

Ichigo, you must not take this too personally. Calm the thunder in your heart and find the espada before leaping to conclusions.

Zangetsu's calm, rational voice grated on Ichigo's nerves, but he knew his zanpakuto was right. That didn't deaden his anger, though, as he yanked the sheets off his bed and crumpled them into a ball. He couldn't bother saying goodbye? he snapped mentally. Would that seriously have been too much trouble? He drove his fist into his pillow. Damn espada. Was this all a game to him?

Where was he, anyway? Had he gone back to Hueco Mundo?

The thought made Ichigo's blood boil, but a darker one quickly overtook it. What if he hadn't left of his own free will? What if the other arrancar had managed to capture him? Doing so without waking Ichigo up seemed unlikely, but he didn't know the full extent of their powers. Arietta had already shown quite a talent with poisons – could she have done something? But no… why leave him alive then?

You are such a fucking idiot, King, his hollow sneered. If you'd pay attention to your reiatsu sense for once, you'd have all the answers you want.

Ichigo's hands clenched around the balled-up sheets. "What the hell do you mean?" he snarled.

"Who are you talking to, Ichi-nii?"

Ichigo froze as Yuzu peered through the open doorway, cursing himself for forgetting to close the door after evicting his dad. Then he plastered a smile on his face. "Sorry, Yuzu, just talking to myself." She gave him a worried look, and he quirked his lips into a more natural grin. "Not enough sleep lately, I think."

She giggled. "Sure, I bet. You've been really busy studying." Her expression was totally innocent, but her eyes held the faintest spark of mischief. Ichigo groaned internally. He tried to hide his hollow from his sisters – he didn't want to scare them – but he suspected they both knew more than they let on. The damn thing was just too irritating.

Then she asked, "So is it laundry day?" and he realized that he was still holding an armful of bedding. He blushed.

"Um, yeah, I accidentally spilled some juice on my bed, so I was gonna throw these in the washing machine." The words tripped over themselves as he hurried to come up with a convincing explanation, wincing as he realized the potential double entendre. Hopefully she doesn't catch that…

Yuzu spread her hands. "I was going to do laundry for everyone today anyway; I can take those if you want."

Ichigo took a small, involuntary step backwards. "Oh, no, it's okay, I can do it myself. I don't want to put you to any trouble." Besides, it can't be too hard to run a single load of laundry, can it?

The corners of her lips twitched as she dropped her hands. "Let me know if you need any help, alright?" she suggested. He nodded, cheeks flaming, and she beamed at him. "Anyway, I came by to tell you that breakfast will be done soon. When you see Grimmjow, will you let him know?"

Ichigo winced at her choice of words, but nodded anyway. "Sure, I'll do that." If I see him again.

Yuzu gave him another cheerful smile, then skipped off down the hall, and Ichigo slumped onto his bed. What if I don't? What if he vanished into the desert of Hueco Mundo and he's never coming back?

His gaze lighted on the soiled fabric in his hands and his lips twitched. Well, that'd save me more awkward scenes like this one… His sisters definitely did not need to know about his nighttime activities! They were far too young and, in Yuzu's case, innocent.

That's what you think, King, his hollow snickered. She's not stupid, you know. The creature rolled its eyes. But you are. Seriously, stop being such a pussy already; man up and go find the damn arrancar.

Ichigo groaned, but obediently hauled himself off of his bed. For once, his hollow might have a point, even if he expressed it in the most crude way possible. There was no reason to mope around until he actually knew for sure that Grimmjow had left – and if the arrancar hadn't, Ichigo was going to kick his ass for disappearing so unceremoniously.

But only after he threw his sheets in the laundry.

Unfortunately, by the time he'd gotten the washing machine to work, it was time for breakfast. Ichigo deflected Yuzu's worried questions with a forced smile, waving away her concern as he reassured her that Grimmjow was perfectly fine. Karin snorted, rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath, but Ichigo didn't catch what it was. It sounded vaguely threatening, though.

After that, Yuzu's delicious tamagoyaki turned to ash in his mouth as he struggled to force his thoughts away from the infuriating espada. He managed to choke down a few more bites, but between Yuzu's worry and his own morbid thoughts, he couldn't stand to sit still any longer. "Sorry, Yuzu, I guess I'm not too hungry this morning," he apologized, standing with plate in hand.

"Now, son, you know you need to eat breakfast – it's the most important meal of the day!" Isshin chided. His eyes narrowed. "This doesn't have anything to do with Grimmjow, does it?" A trace of his sharp mind peeked out from behind his goofy façade, making Ichigo shift his weight from foot to foot.

"No, Dad, everything's fine. I'm just not hungry."

Isshin raised an eyebrow. "What would your mother think, seeing you waste all that good food? Cooked by your poor, hardworking sister, too!" He flung his arms out wide, nearly upending his coffee mug.

Karin kicked his shin as he continued to gesticulate violently. "Dad, stop it," she snapped.

Isshin turned to her with an aggrieved expression, and Ichigo hastened to make his escape. If he let his dad go on like this, he'd be stuck there for another hour – and that was if he was lucky. He couldn't afford that; he needed to go look for Grimmjow before the trail went cold.

A hand on his wrist stopped him. He glanced down to see Yuzu gazing calmly up at him with eyes too old for her thirteen-year-old face. "It'll be okay, Ichi-nii," she reassured him softly. "You'll see. It'll all work out."

Ichigo couldn't shake the suspicion that she knew more than she was letting on, but her face and voice were completely innocent. So he simply smiled at her. "I'm sure it will. Thank you for breakfast; it was delicious." She beamed back, and he added, "I'll see you tonight, alright?"

She hugged him quickly, then gave him another innocent smile. "Have fun! We'll see you at dinner."

Ichigo nodded. Hopefully by then he would have found Grimmjow and discovered that this was all a big misunderstanding.

But the former sexta espada wasn't anywhere to be found. The only traces of his reiatsu scattered around town were days old, and fading fast; it was as if something had erased his presence from the living world. Tracking was far from Ichigo's strong suite, but even he couldn't miss the presence of an espada in town, unless that espada was taking care to hide.

The thought simultaneously frustrated and depressed him. If Grimmjow remained in the living world, he was deliberately concealing himself; if not, he'd left without so much as a glance behind him. Ichigo wasn't sure which scenario would hurt worse.

Probably the latter, he concluded after several hours combing the town. At least if Grimmjow was still around Karakura Town, Ichigo could kick his ass for being such an insensitive asshole.

He grimaced. Then again, that requires that I find him, and that's not looking likely. He'd ditched his body with Kon an hour into the search, giving the mod soul strict instructions to stay out of trouble, and resumed hunting in his far-more-mobile spirit form, but it hadn't helped. If Grimmjow was around, he wasn't about to let Ichigo know it.

Finally, for lack of anything better to do, Ichigo headed over to Urahara's shop.

The shopkeeper didn't appear surprised to see him as he stormed into the shop. "Ah, come in, come in." He smiled genially. "What brings you here to my humble shop?"

Ichigo folded his arms. "Where's Grimmjow?"

Urahara lifted his eyebrows, a picture-perfect expression of confusion on his face. "Why, I don't know. If he's not with you, I would assume he went back to Hueco Mundo."

After hours of fruitless searching, Ichigo was in no mood to play games. Urahara's semblance of puzzlement was just too good, and he didn't appear worried at all; he clearly knew something. "Don't tell me you've got no idea where he is," Ichigo grated, taking a step forwards and scowling. "You keep tabs on everything that goes on around this town – there's no way you'd miss the opening of a garganta. And I don't believe that you'd simply let a former enemy freely wander around." His hands clenched into fists.

"Former enemy?" Urahara asked curiously, lightly stressing the first word. "What makes you say that?" Ichigo heaved a sigh, but before he could muster an answer, Urahara shook his head. "But where are my manners? Come, sit down and have a cup of tea; you can tell me all about it then." He waved a hand towards the low table. "Sit, sit." Though his tone was light and friendly, it held a certain quality that suggested that refusal would be a bad idea.

Ichigo rolled his eyes as he dropped onto a cushion next to the table and accepted a porcelain teacup. "Thanks," he muttered.

Urahara graciously inclined his head. "My pleasure. So, you called Grimmjow a former enemy…" He gestured encouragingly at Ichigo, urging him to explain.

"I mean, he hasn't tried to attack me once…" Ichigo sighed. Except for play... "He's been on his best behavior. I don't think he's really an enemy anymore."

"He's still an arrancar," Urahara pointed out in a neutral tone.

Ichigo lifted one shoulder in an awkward shrug. "Yeah, but… they're not all bad. Look at Nel. She's great – maybe a bit annoying at times, but she wouldn't hurt a fly. Grimmjow's more violent, but I don't think he's a threat."

Or, at least, that was what he had assumed until this morning. Now? He wasn't so sure. He had a hard time imagining the espada returning to his former murderous existence – after all, Grimmjow had sworn to kill him, and had had plenty of chances to do so, but hadn't taken any of them. Hell, last night would have been the perfect time to inflict some serious damage, but I felt perfectly safe the whole time. The thought of danger hadn't even crossed his mind.

Urahara lifted his teacup to his lips, but didn't drink. "This seems like a change of heart," he observed, inhaling the steam from the cup with an appreciative smile.

Ichigo huffed a sigh. "I know what you're trying to do, and it isn't going to work. Just tell me where Grimmjow is, alright?" He did his best to keep his voice smooth, but frustration leaked through anyway.

The former captain took a sip of tea and savored the flavor for a moment before nodding. "I'm afraid I truly don't know. He came by early this morning and dropped his gigai off – said he wouldn't need it anymore. It's a good thing he did, too; I didn't realize that some of the chemicals used to simulate blood flow would react negatively to the presence of arrancar spirit energy. The poor gigai was in quite bad shape, though it appears as though the disintegration had occurred in the past few hours." He frowned. "Were you two fighting? Only a fairly major expenditure of spirit energy would have caused the issues that I saw."

A blush crept up on Ichigo's cheeks. "We sparred a bit," he mumbled.

Sure, if 'sparred' means 'fucked like horny rabbits,' his hollow jeered. Ichigo ignored the comment.

Urahara took another sip of tea. "Hmm. But he didn't tell you he was leaving?"

"So he left?" Ichigo asked quickly. He could feel his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach, but he refused to show it.

Urahara shook his head. "I didn't say that."

"Stop playing games!" Ichigo bit out. "If he didn't leave, where the hell is he?" He didn't bother trying to moderate his tone this time.

Instead of replying, Urahara set the teacup down on the table and rose to his feet. "Come with me to the lab," he urged. "There's something I'd like to show you."

For a moment, Ichigo was tempted to refuse. What good would it do? He was sick of the games and the uncertainty, and growing increasingly tired of the feeling that his mentor was playing him like a fish on a line. But, if he left, he'd have no more knowledge than he came with, and he'd already searched every inch of Karakura Town. Urahara was his last hope.

So he forced the scowl away from his face and trotted after the eccentric scientist. This had better be worth it.

"You know, Ichigo, feelings are nothing to be ashamed of," Urahara commented over his shoulder as he swung open the heavy door to the lab.

Ichigo stumbled to a halt. "What… what do you mean?" he asked, a bit too hastily for a convincing pretense of innocence.

Urahara chuckled. "Unless I'm very much mistaken…" He paused, and a hundred different scenarios fluttered through Ichigo's mind. "…you and Grimmjow have actually managed to become friends." Ichigo heaved a silent sigh of relief as Urahara continued, "That's a very good thing! Few shinigami realize it yet, but the arrancar are far from mindless beasts. If we're to avert another conflict like the war with Aizen, we need to treat them as our equals." He motioned Ichigo into the dark, cluttered lab, then flicked the light switch. "It goes against all of our instincts, but vizards and arrancar are truly very similar. If we're to accept one, we need to accept both, and I hardly think many shinigami would argue against the acceptance of the vizards at this point – not after their heroic actions against Aizen."

Ichigo scarcely heard the last sentence. As soon as the lights flickered on, his gaze had landed on Grimmjow's abandoned gigai, which was lying on a stainless steel table near the front of the room. Its hands were folded across its chest like a mummy, and its skin was a dead, waxy white that reminded Ichigo of a mannequin. The vibrant black tattoo on its shoulder had vanished; the brilliant azure hair had turned a muddy navy blue. Without Grimmjow's spirit to animate it, it looked like a corpse about to be dissected.

Ichigo's stomach roiled. He was no stranger to injury and death at this point, but seeing something that looked eerily similar to Grimmjow's body unnerved him. Had he really kissed that only hours previously? He was accustomed to seeing the empty gigais of his shinigami friends, but this was somehow different.

Maybe it was the deterioration. Urahara hadn't been joking – the gigai wasn't in great shape. It still wore the modern clothes Urahara had lent to Grimmjow, but they hung loosely on its frame, as though the gigai had lost too much weight. Abandoned shinigami gigais could resemble a sleeping person if you didn't look too closely, but no one would ever mistake this for a living human.

Ichigo grimaced. The gigai almost looked like a stage prop, a replica corpse about to be used on one of the innumerable cop shows that Westerners were so fond of, but it was slightly too real for that. Part of his mind kept insisting that it was really Grimmjow in front of him, trapped in some sort of malicious kido spell.

What, and you're Prince Charming, to wake him with a kiss? his hollow sneered.

The comment broke Ichigo's paralysis. He bit back a laugh, hastily coughing when Urahara gave him an inquiring look. "Too much dust down here," he explained.

The scientist gave him a sheepish smile. "I haven't had the time to clean in a while, and I don't let Ururu and Jinta in here. They're good kids, but…" He shrugged, and Ichigo had no problem imagining what would happen if the two touched the wrong thing while cleaning – he estimated that over half of the gadgets on the shelves were weapons of some variety.

"Yeah, I can see that being a problem," he agreed, gingerly picking his way around the clutter to an empty chair. "Where are they, anyway?" He wasn't about to pass up such a convenient subject change.

"Yoruichi took Ururu out shopping, I think, and Jinta's around somewhere." Urahara nodded like a fencer acknowledging a touch, then changed the subject back. "But we were discussing Grimmjow, I believe."

Ichigo stifled a groan. So much for getting out of here quickly. "You still haven't told me where he is," he pointed out. "He's still got that power limiter on him; can't you track that?"

Urahara flipped open his fan and fluttered it in front of his face. "Oh, actually, about that…"

Ichigo groaned out loud this time. "Don't tell me… you took it off him." There was only one reason the former captain would have done that – Grimmjow must have been going straight back to Hueco Mundo. I can't believe it. Anger surged through his veins. I can't believe he'd leave just like that. Are you fucking kidding me? He'd thought… well, he didn't know what to think anymore. I'm going to fucking kill him.

Urahara's fan fluttered faster. "Now, don't worry, he promised he wouldn't attack anyone here. I left a bit of kido on him, too, so that any aggression while in the living world causes the immediate return of the power limiter. The moment he attacks someone, his powers will be restricted again."

The thought of potential danger hadn't even crossed Ichigo's mind, but Urahara's words brought fresh worry. "What about the arrancar chasing him? Will he be able to fight back if they attack him?"

Urahara lifted an eyebrow, and Ichigo realized that he hadn't told his mentor about the trio of arrancar. As a matter of fact, he hadn't ever gotten back to Urahara on the matter of the presumed arrancar who'd shown up on television – he was surprised that the scientist hadn't brought that up yet. He sighed. "It's a long story."

Urahara tipped his hat over his eyes. "I've got time." His lips quirked. "And, yes, he should be able to defend himself, though the kido is rather inexact. It may seize upon any bloodshed as a trigger; I didn't have time to test it fully."

Great… Now what? I sit here and tell stories while those damn arrancar beat Grimmjow to a pulp? Ichigo thought rebelliously. But giving an explanation would be quicker than arguing about why he didn't have time, so he launched into the story.

By the end, Urahara's eyes were sparkling. "And you say these arrancar want to capture him alive? Fascinating! I wonder what they're planning on doing…" He snagged a scrap of paper from a nearby shelf and started scribbling. "There are only a few possibilities, and none of them are good… If Aizen was still around, this would make more sense… But no, how would they…" His voice dropped as he spoke, until he was barely mumbling to himself.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Can I go now?"

Urahara glanced up at him, blinking like a startled owl. "What? Oh, yes, I suppose so." Then, as Ichigo started to rise, he threw up a hand. "Wait, you said that you think that the arrancar who rescued that girl is a member of this trio?"

Ichigo sighed and dropped back into his chair. "Yeah, the bear-like one named Marrok. I've got no clue why he did it, though," he added, anticipating Urahara's next question.

"Possibly the answer is simpler than we think," the scientist replied cryptically. He scribbled a sentence, then scratched it out, mouth moving as he ran through calculations in his head. Ichigo, all-too-familiar with the former captain's eccentricities, waited patiently.

At last Urahara looked up fully from the paper. "There are no good guesses here," he declared. "If Aizen was still in charge, I'd have a much better idea of what was going on, but these three are an unknown. Their presence… complicates things."

"I'm pretty sure the snake one is their leader," Ichigo offered. "Arietta, the one who looks like an evil fairy, hates Grimmjow the most, though."

"Hmmm…" Urahara nodded. "So we've got one arrancar who's probably out for revenge, and another who wants Grimmjow for some unknown reason that probably involves power, as most arrancar – and, indeed, shinigami – motives do. Those motivations make sense. But the third one, Marrok – he doesn't fit. His participation in the group throws a wrench in the gears, so to speak."

At another time, Ichigo might have enjoyed tossing around ideas with the former captain, but right now, he wanted to find Grimmjow before the trio did. "I don't know," he replied curtly. "Your guess is better than mine." He pulled himself to his feet. "I have to go, though."

Urahara nodded. "Of course. Good luck finding him." He smiled. "I can tell you that he's still in the living world; there have been no garganta opened in the past ten hours."

"You couldn't have said that at the beginning?" Ichigo muttered, but he couldn't muster much anger. The thought that Grimmjow might still be around, that he hadn't simply vanished, sparked an unexpected bubble of hope in his chest.

If Urahara heard him, he gave no sign of it. Instead, he spun his chair around and yanked open a drawer in the cabinet behind him, pulling out a small envelope. Ichigo eyed it warily. "What's that?"

"Something you might need." It wasn't precisely an answer, but Urahara didn't elaborate as he passed the envelope to Ichigo. "If you do, show it to Grimmjow; he'll know what to do."

Great, another puzzle. Ichigo scowled, but he slipped the envelope into a pocket nonetheless. "Thanks." He took a couple steps towards the door. "Now, I really do have to go…"

Urahara, who had already returned to his calculations, waved a hand at him. "Good luck!"

The sun was sinking towards the horizon when Ichigo finally found Grimmjow – perched on the roof of Karakura High School, of all places. If the espada hadn't dropped whatever mechanism he had been using to conceal his spiritual pressure, Ichigo never would have found him.

Grimmjow didn't bother to look up when Ichigo dropped onto the edge of the roof beside him. His gaze was fastened on his hands, which were tracing random patterns over Pantera's blade, but they held a distant glaze to them, as though he wasn't really seeing the gleaming metal. The wound in his shoulder was nothing more than an ugly red scar, while his other injuries had vanished entirely. His reiatsu flickered in sullen, undecipherable waves.

After a few minutes, Ichigo couldn't take the silence anymore. "Hey."

Grimmjow's hands stilled. "I thought I'd be back in Hueco Mundo by now," he commented. "So why am I still here?" His hand clenched around Pantera's hilt, white knuckles belying the casual tone.

Ichigo shrugged, stealing a glance at the blue-haired espada. "I don't know?" Though he'd love an answer to that question. Pantera was clearly fully recovered; there was nothing holding Grimmjow back from returning home now. So why wasn't he long gone?

The teen would have liked to think that it had something to do with him, but he knew better. Arrancar might be closer to human than most hollows, but they still had trouble with softer emotions. And, well, it's Grimmjow. If he can feel more than anger, hunger, and lust, I'd be surprised.

You're pitying yourself again, his hollow pointed out acerbically.

Grimmjow snorted. "Yeah. Well, fuck this bullshit, anyway." His voice held the heat of anger, but it wasn't directed at Ichigo. Reiatsu swirled around him in an agitated storm, sparking against Ichigo's own power as it brushed his skin. The sensation sent electric sparks through the substitute shinigami, who grimaced. Now was not the time.

Silence fell again, only to be broken by Grimmjow's sigh. "Fuck." Ichigo tentatively reached out and placed a hand on his knee, and Grimmjow barked a laugh. "You're such a pain in the ass sometimes, Kurosaki." His shoulders slumped. "A fucking delicious pain in the ass, though."

Ichigo blinked. "Um…" he managed. That… didn't sound like an outright rejection, at least. But it also hadn't sounded very encouraging.

You sound like a prissy little girl worrying over her crush, his hollow jeered. Man up already! It surged against the barriers of his inner world. Grow some balls, why don't you?

Ichigo winced as an echo of Rukia's voice floated through his mind. The last time a guy had said that around her, she'd kicked the crap out of them for being a sexist asshole; he didn't want to know what she'd do if she ever heard his hollow speak. He grimaced. Then again, none of my friends would be pleased, though they'd probably express it more calmly. There was more than one reason why he kept the creature locked away inside his mind.

That was completely beside the point, though. Repeating well-worn complaints about his hollow wouldn't solve the situation in front of him, and he wasn't about to simply walk away. So he took a deep breath. "What…" He stopped. "Okay, never mind. Why are you still here?"

He didn't mean to sound angry, but Grimmjow bared his teeth. "Something wrong with that?" he challenged.

Ichigo threw up his hands. "Fuck. Can't you give a straight answer for once?"

Grimmjow huffed, dragging one finger down Pantera's blade. "Can't you?" He prodded the tip of the sword with his thumb, then lapped at the beads of blood that welled up, eyes focused intently on Ichigo.

"You haven't asked anything," Ichigo snapped back, suppressing the heat that had flooded into his veins as he watched Grimmjow's tongue twine around his fingers.

A humorless chuckle bubbled out of Grimmjow's throat. "Touché." He paused, hand dropping back to the blade. "Fine. I'm here cause I didn't want to leave." He glared at Ichigo. "Happy now?"

A smile spread across Ichigo's face as he nodded. "Yep, I am."

"Cocky little shit," Grimmjow muttered, though he didn't sound annoyed.

Ichigo smirked at him. "So, why didn't you want to leave?" His tone dripped with challenge; there was no way the espada could ignore the unspoken implication that silence would be admitting defeat.

Grimmjow hesitated for a long moment, and butterflies surged in Ichigo's stomach. What if the espada had remained to hunt down his enemies? What if he truly didn't care about Ichigo at all? Ichigo thought they had managed to become friends, at least, if not something more, but maybe last night had just been a bit of pleasure for the former sexta.

Ichigo made a face. If that was the case, well… he wouldn't regret it, for it had been an incredible night. But he'd certainly be disappointed. It wasn't that he wanted some sort of serious long-term relationship, complete with rose petals and candlelit dinners – there was nothing wrong with that, but it wasn't something he'd enjoy in the slightest. But he'd hoped that it would turn into something more than a one night stand, at least.

At last Grimmjow seemed to make up his mind. "I don't know, really." He sighed. "I just… the desert is gorgeous, you know? Rolling dunes as far as the eye can see, under a pitch black sky. But there isn't anyone else around, especially now. Las Noches is a crumbling ruin, the surviving espada are scattered to the winds, and Aizen's damn war killed off basically every high-level hollow in the place."

"So you're lonely," Ichigo surmised.

"Not hardly," Grimmjow scoffed quickly. Ichigo trained a steady gaze on him, and he rolled his eyes. "I'm just bored there, that's all."

"Uh-huh," Ichigo replied, careful to keep his face and voice neutral. He suspected that it was more than that, but if Grimmjow wasn't going to admit it, he wouldn't press the issue.

Grimmjow cast a suspicious glance in his direction. "Yeah. There's nothing to do there but hunt, run, and sleep, and you can only spend so many hours training by yourself."

That, Ichigo had no problem believing. He'd spent far too many hours in Urahara's underground training area practicing various skills, and he'd never managed to escape the onset of tedium. He'd never had to practice alone for long – Urahara, Yoruichi, and a stream of visiting shinigami were always willing to spar – but he could thoroughly sympathize with Grimmjow's complaint there. "Well, you can always come here and we can spar," he offered.

Grimmjow lifted an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he murmured.

Ichigo lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "I mean, so long as you don't hurt anyone around here, yeah." He definitely wouldn't complain about the chance to fight the feral espada, so long as Grimmjow didn't interrupt him too often while he was studying.

Or, at least, as long as the espada let him get back to work afterwards.

Grimmjow's lips twitched as he glanced up at Ichigo, then returned to staring out at the city. "Maybe I'll do that, then." An odd sort of nostalgia infused his voice with melancholy, though he did his best to conceal it.

Ichigo bit his lip, then blurted out, "So, why'd you leave this morning?"

Grimmjow shrugged. "Was gonna go home, since Pantera was fixed…" He cast a fond glance at his zanpakuto. "…but, well, I didn't really want to go back just yet. So I kinda just stuck around for a while."

"Why hide, then?" Ichigo asked bluntly.

Again, Grimmjow lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. "I guess…" He trailed off. Ichigo held his breath as a feeling of anticipation swept over him, borne by the storm suddenly raging in Grimmjow's reiatsu – what was he about to say?

The espada took one deep breath, then another. "I thought it'd be easier like that," he finally muttered, eyes fixed on Pantera.

"Easier?" Ichigo bit out.

Grimmjow snarled in response. "I'm not a fucking house cat, Kurosaki! I'm a freaking espada – we don't do lovey-dovey shit. You want romance? Go hook up with that woman of yours. Arrancar don't love." His lips twisted bitterly as he spat the last few words. They had the sound of a well-worn platitude, repeated often enough to engrave acid scars into a heart.

Ichigo shifted closer to him. "That's not always true," he murmured. "Look at Nel – she loves basically everyone she encounters."

"Not the same," Grimmjow spat. His shoulders were hunched as though he was expecting a blow; he flinched when Ichigo laid a hand on them. "Don't deceive yourself, Kurosaki. You'd be better off without me around."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Really? Who told you that?" He kept his tone a shade shy of insulting, hoping to provoke the espada out of his dark mood.

Grimmjow rose to the bait. "Fuck off, kid. No one told me anything." He whirled to face Ichigo, dislodging the substitute shinigami's hand. "No one needed to, alright? It's pretty damn obvious. Those around me have a nasty tendency to end up dead or worse."

"I don't think that's…" Ichigo started to object.

Then a limp body tumbled out of the sky and crashed onto the roof behind them.