I don't own Bleach or its characters.

Hello, my lovelies! The prodigal writer returns... I'm so sorry for my absence. I just pulled a 20 week semester in which I was student teaching 19 first graders by day, taking course work in the evening, and working a third shift job part time. And being a mom, and a girlfriend, and all the other required responsibilities of life! I appreciate those of you who stick with me, albeit my unreliable tendencies. However, despite whatever gaps in updating arise, this story will play out to its conclusion. It's still my baby! Please enjoy this next installment!

Chapter 4

Ichigo was sitting at the peninsula in the kitchen working on a lesson plan for writing groups when Renji came in the door. Ichigo's tired eyes slid to the corner of the computer screen and noted it was nearly 9 PM. Renji had texted he'd be working late but this was much later than Ichigo had expected. He sipped his hot tea as he listened to Renji's footsteps carry him to family room where Nel was watching an approved cartoon. Ichigo refused to let her have more than an hour of screen time a day and was extremely selective about what she'd be allowed to view.

He could hear Nel happily chattering away to Renji and he sighed, emotions piercing through his chest like needles. He was glad Renji chose to go spend some time with their daughter but was irritated and hurt that he didn't at least get a "Hey, I'm home" or a "Hi" before doing so. What happened this morning was prickling around his brain and further irritating Ichigo. He forced himself back to the task at hand, deciding they'd talk it out before bed.

Fifteen minutes later his lesson plan was done. Ichigo shut down his computer and packed it away for tomorrow, placing his bag in the hallway before going to get Nel. He needed to get her in the bath quickly and off to bed. It was already later than he normally let her stay up but Yuzu had reported she took a three-hour nap that afternoon and he wanted her to see Renji. He walked into the family room to find Nel nestled up with Renji, who was sprawled out and asleep, his red ponytail spilling over the back of the couch as his head lolled to the side.

Mentally, Ichigo face palmed. Those needling feelings of irritation were coming back, piling up and starting to lay a wall in Ichigo's heart. He scooped Nel into his arms, whispering to her to be quiet and let Papa sleep. He frowned at himself and instantly felt guilty as he and Nel made their way upstairs. Of course, Renji would be tired; he was working so hard. Ichigo reasoned that he was just feeling bad about what happened this morning and that there was no reason to be mad.

He got his little girl bathed and tucked in bed with Chappy Bunny faithfully at her side, checked under the bed and in the closet for monsters, and made sure the nightlight was on. He kissed her goodnight and shut her door, going downstairs to collect his husband. He turned off the TV that was flashing with some cartoon show and shook Renji's shoulder.

"Renji, wake up and come get in bed," he said, shaking vigorously.

Renji's eyes snapped open and he looked around, seemingly disoriented. It was a rare occurrence that he fell asleep on the couch and Ichigo smirked at his confused expression.

"You fell asleep on the couch, let's go to bed," Ichigo repeated. Renji groaned and stretched before shoving himself up off the couch and dragging himself toward the stairs. Ichigo followed him up the stairs and into the bedroom, picking up Renji's trail of clothes as he shed them onto the floor on his way into the bathroom.

Ichigo put the clothes in the hamper inside the closet and striped off his own, fishing out a pair of sleeping pants and a ratty old shirt. The sounds of Renji brushing his teeth came from the bathroom as Ichigo went over and turned down the bed, tossing the decorative pillows to the floor. He joined Renji moments later at the double vanity, grabbing his toothbrush and squirting toothpaste on it.

"So, what was up with you this morning?" Ichigo asked, trying to keep his tone light. He met Renji's eyes in the mirror as he began brushing.

Renji spit and sighed, turning to lean his hip against the vanity.

"You are so much better with her than I am," Renji said, his words laced with defeat.

Ichigo spit in the sink and turned toward his husband.

"Renji, that's a ridiculous statement. You are a great parent to Nel, she adores you."

Renji shook his head and turned back to the sink, rinsing out his toothbrush first and then his mouth.

"Nel likes me because I'm the fun parent. But you are the responsible one, the knowledgeable one."

Ichigo bristled but took a breath before speaking.

"Renji, parenting is a team effort, just like anything we do. We have our strengths and weaknesses and most of the time we balance each other out. Nel loves you and I equally. She's a child, Renji, and children love unconditionally."

Ichigo rinsed his mouth while he waited for Renji to process what he just said.

Renji took down his ponytail and opened a drawer in the cabinet to pull out his brush. Ichigo watched as he pulled the brush through his tresses and moved over when he was done to plait his gorgeous hair into a braid. Renji usually preferred to sleep this way, claiming it was easier to get a good night's sleep if he didn't have to worry about himself or Ichigo rolling over on his hair during the night.

"I think you are just stressed from work, Ren, and it's making you feel this way," Ichigo said from behind Renji as his fingers effortlessly interlaced the hair.

"You're probably right," sighed Renji, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'm always right," Ichigo said with a scowl into the mirror, smirking when Renji spun around and kissed the scowl right off his face.

"Let's hit the sack," Ichigo said when they broke apart, wanting more of his husband but knowing they both just needed the sleep.

The next morning went more smoothly for Ichigo. Nel was in a quite agreeable state and for once Renji got up a little earlier and helped with breakfast before rushing off to work. It allowed Ichigo to arrive at the Academy much earlier than planned. He dumped his stuff in his classroom and headed down to the gymnasium.

The gym really was in a sorry state. The floor was badly in need of a refinish and the lines on the floor needed to be repainted. There were two basketball hoops at either end of the gym and neither had a net and one completely had no backboard. The tumbling mats stacked against the wall were faded and cracked.

In between the doors for the locker rooms was the equipment room, which also served as the gym coach's office. The gym was dimly lit with only one row of lights turned on, but the door to the equipment room was open and the light shone out into the darkness of the gym, signaling to Ichigo that Grimmjow was probably in there.

When Ichigo stepped into the doorway, Grimmjow was bent over a basketball rack, swearing under his breath as he poked at the deflated balls. He had a clipboard in one hand and straightened to furiously scribble something on it.

"Need any help with that?" Ichigo asked, and almost stepped back when the man turned and set his cool gaze on him.

"This is a travesty," Grimmjow growled, waving his hand around to gesture at the equipment. "There is hardly anything decent in here to use. Did you know that out of twenty jump ropes, only half are useable? The others are missing handles, have cracked handles, or are tangled in knots beyond being worth the time to untangle them. Seven barely usable basketballs out of fifteen. And the floor hockey sticks- those are a joke," he spat incredulously, his hand running absentmindedly through his tresses irritably and causing some errant strands to fall into his eyes.

Ichigo understood the frustration.

"Welcome to the Academy, Coach. Most things, if we even have them at all, are in abysmal conditions. These are the kids no one wants to care about but us. If you'd like, I can help you search for grants and funding for new equipment. I'm to be your mentor friend here in the building, so if you have questions or need anything at all, my door is always open."

"That would be great to find a grant, and I want to, but I cannot wait on a grant to go through to have the tools I need to do my job and do it right. You know as well as I do how important movement is and how much energy and frustration kids will blow off in this gym."

Ichigo thought for a moment.

"Well, I'm sure in the downtown shopping district of Seireitei you could find some good stuff, albeit pricey."

"Don't care about money," Grimmjow stated, his glacial eyes on Ichigo's. "I know where to go to order some stuff. You wanna go with me after school?"

"Let me make sure I have arrangements for my daughter, I'll get back to you on that," Ichigo promised. He noted the time on his phone.

"Duty calls. I'll meet you here after school, and like I said, if you need me come find me," Ichigo said, heading back out into the gym. He pretended like he didn't feel Grimmjow's eyes on him the whole way across the fading gym floor and out the door.

Ichigo's day went on without much of a hitch, his students were in a mellow mood. He could always tell when certain students were on or off their meds by their behaviors and the climate of the classroom. He happily sent them down to lunch, pleased with the day's progress. He sat down to eat his lunch in the classroom, checking his phone for text messages. Yuzu had replied that of course, she'd be glad to keep Nel longer and that she could even spend the night if he wanted her too. He grinned, he had one of the best sisters in the world.

He dug in to his food as five students came into the room, carrying flimsy white foam trays of what looked like barely edible food. He allowed anyone who got to the top or off the behavioral chart to come eat with him in the classroom and play games during recess. Ichigo on principle did not eat in the teachers' lounge, not because he didn't like his colleagues, but because the lounge was where other teachers vented and Ichigo couldn't stand hearing the constant negativity about the students. They had a hard job; but these kids deserved a lot of patience and understanding in Ichigo's mind.

When the students cleaned their trays, that was Ichigo's rule, they began pulling out board games and other things around Ichigo's room. Two students chose to build with magnatiles from his STEM cart, the other three choosing to play Sorry with Ichigo.

He let all his students pick their color token and went last. He ended up being yellow. He was glad to see his newest student, Jinta, joining in to play with his classmates and teacher. His first day was spent quite sullenly, the child's demeanor tight and guarded as he observed everything going on around him in the classroom. He barely spoke and didn't volunteer to answer any questions, but when Ichigo began giving him assessments one-on-one he participated just fine.

They were having a great time playing when one of the other students named Tatsuo pulled a Sorry card and moved Jinta's token back to the home space. Jinta angrily glared at the other boy.

"The fuck you pick my guy for?" he demanded.

"That's how the game is played, man, chill out," Tatsuo replied.

"No, that's fucking bullshit, you should've picked Mitsue's piece, it's closer to your home base, idiot."

"Don't call me an idiot, you freak!" Tatsuo spat back.

"That's enough," Ichigo commanded sternly. "Jinta, we don't talk to each other in this classroom with disrespect. You should apologize to Tatsuo."

"I ain't apologizing to nobody," Jinta said, shoving up from the table.

He stormed off in a huff, slamming the classroom door so hard the old wooden door rattled in its frame from the force. Ichigo whipped out his cell phone and sent out a mass alert for other teachers to be on the lookout for Jinta as he couldn't leave his other students unattended. He slid it in his pocket and eyed Tatsuo.

"I'm sorry he spoke to you like that Tatsuo, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Mr. K, s'okay," Tatsuo shrugged but Ichigo noticed a tightness in the boy's shoulders and the storm clouds in his eyes. He was a sensitive boy that wanted to be everyone's friend.

"Listen," Ichigo said, checking that he had everyone's attention. "I'm not excusing Jinta's behavior, and between he and I there will be a consequence. But I want you all to try to understand what it's like to be the new kid, to come to a school where you don't know anyone and have no friends. Give him some time to adjust, okay?"

Everyone nodded, and Tatsuo looked a little relieved.

"Alright, let's get this mess cleaned up, recess will be over in 3 minutes," Ichigo said, noting the time.

Grimmjow noticed the streak of red peeking out from behind the school dumpster when he pulled his Jeep into the parking lot from running out to get a few things he needed for his office on his lunch break. He grabbed his plastic bags from the passenger seat and slowly got out of the car, taking care to shut the car door quietly. His booted feet crunched over the salt spread on the cracking pavement of parking lot to keep it from icing over, and he hunched his shoulders a bit against the cruel nip of winter breeze that found the exposed skin of his face.

The kid wore no coat and was curled in on himself. His face was pinched in a scowl that made him look angry and defiant; the look contrasted with his small body shaking from the cold that tinted his lips a slight blue and the haunted look that Grimmjow could see in his eyes. This one was tough, but he was just a kid and he had not mastered the art of keeping the emotion out of his eyes. Grimmjow stopped about five feet short of where he was huddled and squatted down, wary of making the kid more anxious with his intimidating bulk and height.

"You'll catch your death out here, mister," Grimmjow said, watching the boy trying to puff up as if the cold wasn't slashing through the thin fabric of his worn out hooded sweat shirt. "I need some help putting this stuff away in my office, and something about you makes me feel like you are a great organizer," Grimmjow said, holding up his bags of office supplies as evidence. The boy's eyes flicked from the bags to Grimmjow's face, trying to decide if it was a trick.

"Hey, whatever got you back here behind the dumpster isn't my business unless you want to share it," Grimmjow replied, trying to ease the boy's anxiety. He saw Ichigo's alert; he knew this was the run-away student. "If you want you can come help me in my office, and warm up. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want, but I can't let you stay out here, kiddo."

The boy stood shakily and huffed an "okay" that puffed into the wintry air, making the words curl and disappear in the chilled atmosphere. His eyes slanted away from Grimmjow and he trudged into the gym with Grimmjow following a foot or so behind. Grimmjow was relieved that he got him into the gym and more pleased when the kid didn't bolt, but kicked off his tired looking shoes just as Grimmjow did, and they carried their salty, wet footwear to his office across the groaning, dilapidated wooden floor.

Grimmjow sat the bags on his dented metal desk and shrugged out of his gray woolen coat, hanging it on a hanger and stowing in a tall, thin built in closet behind his desk. He sat down in his desk chair and retrieved his gym shoes from beneath it, pulling his left leg up to rest on his right knee and sheathing his foot within the sneaker.

"Got a name, or can I just keep calling you kiddo?"

The boy thought that over with a frown. He didn't look up from the floor but he muttered, "Jinta."

"All right Jinta," Grimmjow said, tying his shoes and watching the boy inconspicuously from beneath his lashes, "if you know your shoe size, why don't you go find a pair over there in supply room while yours dry out some. Then I will let you have at organizing my desk. You probably will do it way better than I can," Grimmjow said with confidence.

"You're not going to take me to the principal's office?" the boy asked incredulously, his eyes quickly flashing to Grimmjow in disbelief.

"Is that what you want to do? I'm a firm believer in a man owning up to his wrong doings, Jinta, but I will leave all the choices up to you."

Jinta hesitated, not really sure what to make of the gym teacher right now. He edged toward the back room and Grimmjow paid him no attention, just calmly went about getting his shoes on. When the boy came back with a pair of black sneakers on that had seen better days, Grimmjow got up and wordlessly offered the boy his chair. He watched the boy inch toward it, tensing as he got within Grimmjow's range of reach, not relaxing as he seated himself in the padded leather chair.

Grimmjow frowned to himself, disturbed.

"I'm going to go out and set up for my end of the day class. If you need me, you go ahead and holler. I'm Mr, J, by the way," Grimmjow said, and strolled out into the gym, leaving the boy to his devices.

He reached into his track pants and pulled out his phone. His fingers flew over the screen, texting Ichigo and the principal in a group message that he had Jinta and would bring him back to class when he was finished up in the gym. He waited until he got a thumbs up emoji from Ichigo and a "Thank Kami" from the principal before going around and setting the gym up for Mission Impossible.

He was just finishing dragging the last tired, cracked and peeling tumble mat into place when Jinta's figure appeared in the doorway of his office, the juxtaposition showing off how small the red-headed kid really was. Grimmjow walked toward him, stopping again about five feet from the kid, and squatted down so he was eye level, even though the kid wouldn't meet his gaze.

"You know what I like to do when I'm frustrated, or I need some time to get my thoughts in my head unjumbled?"

"Nah," answered the kid, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"I like to exercise. Big surprise right, with me being the gym coach and all. Would you like to take a couple laps with me around the gym? I want to get warmed up before the seventh and eighth graders come in here and wreak havoc."

"Alright," the kid said apprehensively and followed Grimmjow further out into the gym.

He mirrored Grimmjow's stretches, his eyes flashing over to watch how Grimmjow did it and then away while he replicated the form, wordlessly mouthing the numbers while Grimmjow did a ten count for each stretch. He jogged next to Grimmjow, who let him set the pace, and noted how the kid was holding the form the Grimmjow had, as if he was raised by a world class runner. Most kids his age just took off pell-mell, not caring how they held their body or where their feet were landing. Grimmjow let a slow, wide grin stretch across his lips as he noticed the boy's eyes flutter over him in rapid, assessing flickers and matching everything he did.

They ran three laps around the gym and Grimmjow slowed his pace, easing from a jog into a brisk stroll. Jinta, of course, followed his lead, and they set out for another 3 laps of just walking.

"Jinta, that was great running form. For a boy your age, that's really impressive," Grimmjow commented genuinely. He watched a soft pink blush stain the boy's cheeks, and Jinta just scoffed and shoved his hands into his sweat shirt pocket, refusing to look at Grimmjow.

Probably not complimented a whole lot, Grimmjow thought to himself.

"Well, I was thinking of getting some sports clubs up and running here. You should join if I can get a track club started and someone to coach it."

Jinta was quiet, strolling next to Grimmjow. Grimmjow let him process his thoughts and waited to see if the boy would answer or not.

"Mr.K runs," Jinta said.

"Does he? I'm new to the school, I don't know much about Mr. K except that he's very friendly and hard working."

"Saw his shoes, like yours, sticking out of duffle behind his desk."

Grimmjow considered this information for a moment.

"Do you think I should ask Mr. K if he'd coach track?"

Jinta just shrugged. They were nearing their last lap and Grimmjow had a class coming in ten minutes. He was feeling a little pressured. He wanted to figure this kid out, but the kid had to take him up on the offer of help and comradery Grimmjow was trying to set up.

Well, here goes the shot in the dark.

"So, if Mr. K is your teacher, how come you were not in his class?"

Jinta was silent. Grimmjow watched the kid's face from the corner of his eye as they finished their lap and started toward his office. There was a stony mask of apathy but Grimmjow had a feeling the gears were spinning overtime in the kid's head, assessing whether he should give any inclining of trust to Grimmjow.

Come on kiddo, let me in, Grimmjow pleaded in his mind silently.

Grimmjow sat in his chair, the leather conforming to his backside and pulled out his desk drawer, which squeaked grotesquely and reminded Grimmjow that he'd forgotten to add WD-40 to his list. His brows just about disappeared into his hairline.

Jinta had unpacked both sets of pens. The blue pens were placed together in one space, black in another. The small boxes of paperclips were arranged neatly by size. The tape rolls and thumb tacks had their own space, as did the two bottles of white out and slim boxes of extra staples. There was still plenty of space in the middle of the drawer for anything else Grimmjow wanted to add. On top of his desk sat his stapler, and next to it was a tower of post-it notes, arranged in what looked like the closest order to ROYGBIV as Jinta could get with the colors in packages Grimmjow bought. One blue pen and one black pen sat neatly next to it, should Grimmjow need to jot down a note.

"Wow, you did a fantastic job, I knew I was right about you!" Grimmjow complimented. "I would've just dumped it all in here most likely."

Jinta bit his bottom lip at that and crossed his arms defensively over his chest.

"Order," he said.

"Excuse me?" Grimmjow asked, not sure if he heard the kid right.

"Order," Jinta said a little louder, and with an edge to his voice. "I need order. Things have to be right, done right."

Grimmjow nodded in understanding.

"Can you tell me what happens when things aren't in order, Jinta?" He kept his voice low and gentle, feeling like he was treading on thin ice.

Jinta squeezed his arms, his fingers biting into the fabric of the sweatshirt, enough to make Grimmjow believe the boy was going to leave bruising marks on himself.

"It's like," Jinta started, and Grimmjow watched the confusion dance across the boy's face as he struggled for the words, "it's like a thousand bees buzzing in my head, and an itchy feeling, but inside of my skin. I have to fix it, the thing that's wrong, and if I can't, it just gets louder and itchier and I want to tear off my skin, or put my head through a wall. So, I run, I get away from the not right thing because if I don't…"

The kid's voice trailed off in exasperation and Grimmjow's heart lurched in his chest.

"How do you feel now? Do you think we can go talk with Mr. K now?"

Jinta dropped his arms and hung his head.

"Yeah, ok," he replied, sounding physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted.

End Chapter. Well, there it is! Comments and reviews are always appreciated! 3

*On an unrelated note, I wanted to ask if any of my readers are Stony fans? (Steve Rogers/ Tony Stark aka Captain America/ Iron Man) I have always been a fan of Tony Stark, so much so that I'm trying to convince my boyfriend to name our next son, if we have one, Anthony Stark. Haha (but really I'm serious). Anyway, I have stumbled on this ship, and I'm so on board with it. Obsessed is probably the best way to describe it, lol. I've been considering trying my hand at it...but I'm nervous because honestly, all I know about Marvel comes from the movies and from being previously married to a comic book nerd for 7 years (that's how we referred to him, that's not meant to be offensive to anyone). Do you think it's a good idea, or is it poser-ish?