Grimmjow woke with a hand sealed over his mouth, his head half on Ichigo's chest. He made to shove the hand away but then the ear that wasn't ringing caught the tones above.
"They said they were going after Jaggerjaques and now they're all dead."
"Yeah but one guy couldn't get all them, even Jaggerjaques."
"There was someone else with him."
"Who?"
"Dunno, just a kid."
"Fuck. Then what the Hell are we doing out here?"
"'Cause I heard he dropped a fucking boat load of cash at the chemist's."
"Then go take it from her."
"Yeah and have her shoot me up with poison next time I need something."
"Touché. Fine, then where do we find the blue haired bastard?"
"They were headed North. Let's go."
There had only been two voices but many boots stomped down the road. Ichigo slowly released Grimmjow. The other shoved away and sat on his own, but held his head and took a moment to get oriented.
"How are you doing?"
"Fucking great," Grimmjow growled. He straightened his clothes which were covered in dirt from the previous night's incident. He must have been remembering what happened because he only got angrier.
"Those bastards."
Ichigo gave him a moment, not wanting to ignite a blow-up of anger.
"So you can hear?"
"Obviously." He didn't say there was a high pitched ringing going off on his right side.
"And your concussion?"
Grimmjow used the bank to help him stand. He staggered but stayed upright.
"Good enough," he concluded.
"Grimmjow we can take some time to rest." As much as Ichigo didn't want to waste a second getting to his friends, he also didn't want them to stumble into more trouble because of Grimmjow's wounds.
"No. I have a deadline."
"The Market will be going on for days."
"I gotta register for the fight at the start to get in on the big pot."
"Oh come on, Grimmjow, look at you, you're not in the shape to fight now."
"I will be in a fucking week. You do realize how far we still have to go and how much time we've already wasted?"
"Well maybe you should give them your cash next time so we don't end up in a fight we can barely win."
"It's my fucking cash."
"Is it worth your life?"
"What isn't worth your life in this damn world?" But the words rang untrue, because at the sight of the gun yesterday, Grimmjow had frozen. He might talk shit, but he didn't want to die—at least not that way.
Anger boiled between them for a long time. They walked below the highway for now, avoiding the fights that certainly waited for them if they returned to plain sight. By noon Ichigo's anger had simmered and eventually cooled off enough for him to ask a question that had been bugging him.
"Grimmjow where is your money?"
Grimmjow shot him a look. "None of your fucking business."
He let it go. At least the guessing game was something to think about. Grimmjow needed a break shortly after that. He of course didn't say anything, but he tripped on some loose gravel and barely caught himself.
His head must have been killing him but again, he'd never say anything. Ichigo pulled out their canteens and some food so as to force them to stop. Grimmjow sat heavily and didn't eat anything. Ichigo savoured some beef jerky and a little bit of water. He took his time, hoping Grimmjow would take advantage of the breather, but after only a few minutes he stood and ploughed forward again.
They veered away from the highway when their path became too cluttered with junked cars and rough terrain. Grimmjow said he knew the way well enough they could leave the main travel route for a day at least before having to go back. It wasn't ideal. If it were to rain—not drizzle but really pour in the deadly torrential bouts that struck once or twice a month—they'd be caught unprotected.
But they weren't really in the shape to get caught up in any more fights either.
They picked their way between the debris of broken shacks. Ichigo had seen enough of these to known they'd filtered through from Soul Society and landed here. Their inhabitants had left them long ago, none were even intact enough to house anyone. It slowed them down. They came across some bones, Grimmjow noted their freshness and told Ichigo wolves had picked them clean. He pulled out his sword but it went unneeded. They camped when they found an open plane. It was impossible to guess what world it was from, but there was nothing but hard ground and a few bushes: Nowhere for enemies or wolves to hide. Grimmjow hacked at a bush until he had enough wood to make a fire. He lit it up with a lighter and dug in their bag for food.
They warmed pasta soaked in tomato sauce. It wasn't half bad. They let the fire burn—the night was cold and they each had wounds to check. Ichigo rolled his shirt up and saw in the flickering light that his stitches were holding, his skin looked to be mending itself back together. Grimmjow would have to pull the stitches back out soon.
Grimmjow was slow to pull off his jacket. It was clear that space between his shoulders was hurting him. Ichigo moved around the fire and helped pull his jacket down. He was sure Grimmjow would have cursed him and told him to leave him alone if he could catch his breath but it seemed just this motion had brought on quite a bit of pain. Ichigo pulled his shirt off of him without invitation. Grimmjow took a steadying breath and Ichigo saw the terrible bruising under the bandages. They were loose, he should have fixed them after the fight but he hadn't.
Grimmjow lay on his stomach when instructed. He must have hated needing help but he swallowed back his pride for the sake of healing faster so they could move faster. Ichigo unwounded the cloth. He sucked in his breath at the sight of the bruises that had developed since both fights Grimmjow had been in.
"Shit, Grimmjow."
"Nothin's broken," he responded.
Ichigo brushed his fingertips over the purple flesh to assess the swelling. Grimmjow went rigid at just this light touch. He'd carried his bag on one shoulder and his sword in one hand all day—now Ichigo knew why.
"I think I should leave the bandages off until morning, they might be cutting off circulation and worsening the swelling." On the other hand, Grimmjow needed the support to his ribs but he should be fine while sleeping. "Just let me check your chest."
It was painful for Grimmjow to roll over. He couldn't put the pressure on his back so he had to sit. His front was all cut up from being shoved in the pavement. There was some discolouration around his ribcage but nothing too serious so Ichigo let him lay back down. He rested on his side, his pack used as his pillow and his sword ever clutched in one hand.
"You alright?"
"Just great. Where's my jacket." Ichigo handed him his coat and Grimmjow pulled it up over his naked tosro. It seemed he didn't have the will to struggle back into it or his shirt.
"Should we douse the fire?"
Grimmjow shook his head, eyes already drooping. "It'll keep the wolves away."
"And what about people?"
"We'll fucking kill 'em." His eyes were shut, he was exhausted. Ichigo let him drift off. He'd keep himself half aware like he had for so long on his own.
Grimmjow grit his molars as Ichigo wrapped up his rib cage just after dawn. Their fire was dead; a new day was upon them; they geared up and moved out.
Ichigo carried their bags for the day, Grimmjow kept his sword in hand. They veered back toward the highway and Ichigo noted that they had crossed from Tochigi prefecture into Fukushima. A sign told him they were thirty kilometres from Shirikawa, the next hub. He gazed out on the expanse of broken towns that lined the highway here. In many places these districts had been consumed by parts of other worlds—mostly sand but here they found themselves surrounded by an endless horizon of broken buildings void of life.
"I haven't been through here in almost four years."
"Most people take the ocean view over this," Grimmjow agreed. "But I came this way less than a year ago."
"So what's in store for us?"
"Alot of this. Alot of scavengers waiting to pick off people on the highway. It's not the most pleasant of trips," he grunted, eyes ever searching for danger. Those blue orbs seemed clearer today, Ichigo hoped that meant his concussion was improving.
"It's Junction City that will be the tricky part. You ever been there, kid?"
Ichigo shook his head. He knew what Grimmjow was referring to: he meant where the Tohoku expressway down which they were traveling, and the Ban Etsu expressway intersected. These were the two main travel routes between Tokyo and the northern cities. So of course, that intersection had become one of the most populated, and dangerous places in the country. Ichigo had skirted around it, taking days to get from one piece of highway to the other by cutting through desert or other districts of the city. It was aptly named Junction City, and encompassed the entire area around the crisscrossing roads and ramps of highway.
"I fuckin fought there for three months one time the money was so good," Grimmjow continued.
"Then why did you leave?"
"A band of Vandenreich showed up. I killed them but there was a little too much heat."
"Does that happen much—that you get recognized as an espada?"
"Not much now."
"Do people know what you were?"
Grimmjow shrugged. "Some do I'm sure."
"And what about people coming after you for your money? Does that happen much?"
"Just on the road. Once I'm settled, I'm good."
"Cause you're looked after." Grimmjow turned at the challenging tone. "Well, you are, aren't you? Isn't that how it works—you fight, you win, you take half the pot and the big boss in town takes the other half. The gamblers need you alive, so they keep trouble off your back in the cities as much as they can. Isn't that right?"
"It's a living," Grimmjow responded curtly.
"You're the one who risks your life and they still get half your cash, I thought that would eat you alive."
"You know what eats me alive? This fucking world with no power. Bound to the ground. Pantera gone forever. That's what kills me kid, I can live with all the other bullshit."
He picked up his pace, leaving Ichigo to catch up.
Ichigo had been caught off guard by the statement, but in many ways it rang true to his character, and it helped Ichigo understand the person he'd become in this world. Grimmjow had always been a survivor. He was pissed at the circumstances, but he'd found a way to survive and he'd do whatever it took to keep things that way. Ichigo wasn't sure if he respected that or not, but it was what it was, so he caught up and they continued on.
"You're really going to have to keep your head down when we get to town," Grimmjow said when they saw the sign for the junction looming in the dark.
Grimmjow had refused to stop. He said it would be better to arrive at the Junction at night than risk sleeping unprotected anywhere near it. Though the junction was the heart of the city, it was a sprawling mess of a population and they wouldn't get clear to the other side in just one day. Grimmjow said they would have to put up with slowing down in order to get through without trouble.
"I'll do one or two good fights and we can grab a good night's sleep in a decent place. Then we book it before dawn. Got it?"
"Got it."
"You do nothing. You say nothing. You sit in the room and let me do my thing."
"But—"
"No arguing. We play this my way."
"Fine."
"Good." Grimmjow put his sword back on. He was still sore but he wasn't going to show an ounce of weakness upon entering this place.
The most notable thing about Junction City was the electricity. Shanghai still topped any other city on the globe for its power output, but Junction held its own in the flood lights that cast up the sides of buildings, the neon signs and flashing billboards. It was extremely wasteful, there was no arguing that, but the whole city was wasteful in a world where resources were precious. They were famous for their nightclub that probably consumed the most energy in the place. There, the party never ceased, lit up with dancing, colourful lights at night and serving anything that would get a person drunk or high.
There were many reasons Ichigo avoided this place.
They left the highway. The actual junction was now just a pile of broken tar and concrete that had not survived the Clash. They didn't even see it in the dark, but instead headed for the purple and blue lights that roamed up the side of a building.
"Where do they get all the power?" Ichigo asked.
"Infrastructure survived here a bit better, but I don't really know the first thing about electricity."
Ichigo nodded, not really sure what the espada knew about their world. Clearly he'd learned what he'd needed to get by. The way he killed those men the other day showed he knew how to shoot a gun, though surprisingly he didn't carry one. He had called the other man cowardly for using one, perhaps his honour as a warrior prevented him from choosing such a weapon.
"Hey, if we're lucky we might get somewhere with running water."
Ichigo almost came to a stop at this. A shower? Could anything so mundane and yet so wonderful still exist in this world? He hoped so, and he suddenly felt eager to follow Grimmjow into the thick of the city and see what else they had in operation.
It was nothing like what Ichigo had seen in other cities. The whole place was like one downtown nightclub. The streets were packed with exotically dressed people, women in low cut dresses with thigh-high boots, men walking shirtless, leather trousers, chains. It was humid here, different from the cold nights on the road or in the desert. Here, the tightly packed mass of people generated enough heat that steam rose up in some areas. Ichigo was reminded of futuristic movies from the eighties, where everyone dressed in revealing leather with extreme make-up and hair. He felt glaringly normal amidst the crowds.
They passed by vendors of all kinds, from clothing, to prostitutes to food. Grimmjow stopped them at a stall for the last option. He pulled Ichigo under the canopy of the once mobile food vendor and they sat on stools. Lanterns lit up the interior—not everything in this place could afford electricity. The vendor sold them indistinguishable stew and a pair of beers. Grimmjow drank both beverages as Icihgo devoured his food. It must have been half salt to mask the taste of less than fresh meat but it was delicious to him.
From here it didn't take long for Grimmjow to get recognized. Ichigo saw some people point, others make gestures about gambling, and then a man in a suit jacket pushed his way toward them. Grimmjow must have recognized him because he stopped to meet him.
"Jaggerjaques, Master Haido wants to see you."
"About a fight, I hope." Grimmjow pretended to be here for nothing but the money he could earn in the ring.
"Glad you're interested, come with me."
They followed a few steps behind, enough that Grimmjow could explain the situation to Ichigo.
"There are three major arenas in town," he whispered. "Haido is the one I was hoping would approach me, we've done business before so everything should go smoothly. Just don't say shit about leaving."
"Alright."
"And keep your damn face covered." Grimmjow yanked Ichigo's hood over his head, but they were pretty safe. Ichigo's hair was long enough now he had it pulled back in a ponytail, and the fact that it was black changed his looks significantly. He was also now travelling with a practical celebrity when he was known for his seclusion and isolation. He was fairly confident in the disguise, and Grimmjow must have been too to bring him to the base of a glowing hotel, the sides lit up and flashing like something out of Las Vegas.
Inside the lights glowed low—apparently the system couldn't support full lights on the interior and exterior but it may have been by choice as it added to the atmosphere inside the smoke filled lobby of the grand hotel. The floor was all white tile—or at least it had once been white—and the ceiling was arched and open for at least three stories. A buzz of people filled the lounge area, Ichigo heard glasses clinking in the restaurant off to one side. Music blared from speakers set up on what had once been the check-in counter.
"The last fight of the night is just wrapping up." Their guide informed them, taking them from the main foyer down a corridor. Ichigo read the sign for a pool. That was indeed where they were headed, though no water filled the deep basin now. Instead, it was stained with blood and two men writhed against each other on the floor. Both their bare backs were scraped and bruised. Sweat glistened over every inch of their bodies. They were knotted together so tightly neither could get the leverage to punch or kick the other and disengage.
Ichigo hid his disgust at the sight. Over a hundred men ringed the pool, shouting down on the pair. They were in the deepest part of the pool, at least eight feet down. The floor and walls were still painted with blue lines that divided the pool into sections. For half its length it sloped from the shallow section to the flat pit where the two men where now. The walls were cracked and mouldy. The floor was slick with drinks that spilled from the men above and the body fluids of men who'd fought to their end down there.
And that's where Grimmjow planned to go.
Someone got their teeth in flesh. There was a cry, the men struggled more furiously and then they separated. Ichigo could see blood coursing down from one man's ear. The other spit flesh onto the floor. Ichigo fought not to gag. The wounded man held the side of his head and raised his hand against the next attack. There was a terrible snap as his arm was twisted and broken. He screamed and collapsed to his knees. The other man came up behind him and grabbed his chin. The man gave a wail, knowing what was coming, then his voice cut short, he fell in a spine-broken heap.
The winner made a crude humping gesture over the form of his fallen enemy then raised his hands in the air in victory. Everyone cheered—well, all save Ichigo and Grimmjow. The man who'd escorted them had stepped away and now Ichigo saw him below the old lifeguarding chair where a man sat with a megaphone in hand. He himself was not the boss—that position was probably too vulnerable, but below him there was a heavy set man in a white suit who gave a nod to Grimmjow. Grimmjow nodded back and Ichigo was sure that must be Haido.
The man with the megaphone called out the name of the victor in the pit—Kaito. Then he announced that said man had gone undefeated for over a month of fights. Ichigo shot Grimmjow a look of concern but his expression never changed. Then just as people started to notice the blue haired fighter among them, the announcement rang out that an old challenger had returned to the city and tomorrow night would be the epic show down between Kaito and Jaggerjaques. A roar of excitement rang out. Over the cheers the announcer called that the bet would be a minimum of ten thousand yen. At this, Grimmjow grinned, knowing his half of the winnings would be substantial. Ichigo did not smile. He was looking at the animalistic man in the pit below who was looking at Grimmjow in a way that said he would eat him alive tomorrow night.
But then they were taken away, back out to the bar. Drinks were given to them, Grimmjow sloshed several back, he got many respectful claps on the shoulder, others shot him glares filled with imaginary daggers. The victor of tonight's match arrived after cleaning up. He elbowed his way to the bar, clearly annoyed the crowd's attention was now split between the pair. Bets were already being laid, people were watching everything Grimmjow did to see if he was still as strong as the last time he'd been here.
"Who's the kid, anyway?" Their guide had finally introduced himself as Keiran. He hadn't left their side and Ichigo could tell he was on Haido's orders to keep an eye on them.
"He works for Sabian down South, working out the odds. I was promised a hundred percent of my winnings if I let him travel with me to check out other fighters until I get back down there for a fight."
"Good deal."
"Wouldn't have agreed to it otherwise."
Grimmjow had gone over this cover story a while ago. Ichigo was well prepared for any questions if they came but they didn't.
"Should I show you to your room?"
"Sure."
Grimmjow set down an empty glass and Keiran took them up several flights of stairs to the tenth level.
"Rest well, then." Keiran bowed out when he showed them to a suite.
Ichigo gaped at the luxuriousness of it. Grimmjow tried the lights. They were as dim as the ones below. Next he tested the shower. It was a weak drizzle but it was still amazing to Ichigo who leaned in the doorway.
"Go ahead," Grimmjow said to him. "I'm crashing."
"You think we're safe?"
"Safer than anywhere until that fight."
"Alright then."
Grimmjow left him to the shower. Ichigo shut the door and stared at the room around him. It wasn't pristine, but it was five star in his books. Someone had hurriedly wiped down the sink and toilet, the shower and mirror. He turned the tap of the sink and let cold water course over his hand. He laughed out loud. The sound startled him as it bounced off close walls. He looked up at his own face in the mirror. It had been a long time since he'd seen it, clearly anyhow—he'd done his best to decipher his new look in t.v. screens and dark windows. But now he had a clear canvass on which to view his countenance. His face was rough and needed shaving. He'd take care of that so it didn't reveal his red hair. He was surprised how much the black hair suited him. His skin was tan from long days of walking under the sun, he could be a different person entirely from the orange haired teen who'd stumbled onto the spiritual world all those years ago. He never could have dreamed it would lead him here.
He let out a sigh and washed his face, pulled the razor from his backpack and started with the shave. He was eager for the shower and cut himself once or twice on the dull edge of the blade. He didn't care. The tumble of water on the shower bottom was too thrilling. Even at the low pressure it was a sensation he hadn't thought he'd ever feel again. A bar of half used soap awaited on the shelf in the shower along with a cloth. The water was ice cold and a bit brown. Neither fact took away from the freshness he felt as it washed over dried sweat and dirt that patterned his skin. He took the cloth and lathered it. Soap glided over his skin, he covered himself, scrubbed, rinsed and repeated the whole process two more times just because he could. His long hair snaked down just past his shoulders when it was wet. He towelled it and the rest of his body off, feeling unbelievably clean and relieved. He returned to the bedroom craving those sheets no matter if they were stained or smelled of cigarettes. He rolled into them half naked, not having the heart to cover his clean body in filthy clothes. He dropped his wet head against the pillow and drifted off with what was almost a smile on his face.
Sorry if you found this to be a slow chapter but I think Ichigo and Grimmjow deserve a bit of a break, haha. I actually spent a lot of time on Google Earth going through the places mentioned in this fiction and it was really interesting to see Japan on street view so if you ever have time to spare I recommend it! Next time Grimmjow faces of with Kaito and Ichigo experiences the life the espada has been leading since the Clash.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Riza