Long time, no see! Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it :)


Ichigo was bored. He'd been bored for a while, waiting for Grimmjow; it seemed like he'd been waiting for forever. Ichigo hadn't realized the arrancar had been abducted for punishments, stewing in what he thought was the other man's continued avoidance, and knowing the truth now—though Ichigo hated him, he hadn't wanted that in store for Grimmjow.

Finding the Espada in a small cell didn't lessen Ichigo's irritation, though it did temper it. It was impossible for him to be completely mad, even if Grimmjow deserved it.

Though Ichigo wanted him, he wasn't about to make excuses for the stupid motherfucker. Especially when Grimmjow was entirely in the wrong. Especially after everything he'd done.

Ichigo shifted where he sat, on a mound of rubble somewhere under the dome of Las Noches. He wasn't sure exactly where he was, not that it mattered. It was a decent place to sit and think, and be angry. He didn't like Grimmjow, not at all; 'liking' was an entirely separate emotion from what he felt, particularly when his object of lust was intent on destroying him.

Still though, irritatingly, Ichigo remembered the way Grimmjow tasted: he'd had him twice, once when the arrancar was in Ichigo's room; Grimmjow had been full of his own light scent and hot mouth. Remembering it brought a fresh surge of anger stirring in his stomach, being pushed away then, but Ichigo knew the truth. He was certain of it now, after he'd found the arrancar and seen him, chained and wanting, licking at Ichigo's mouth. Ichigo knew he wasn't wrong about this. He felt childishly vindicated, as if being right mattered so much, but in this instance, he was willing to admit that it did.

Grimmjow in his cage was sweet and sour, the remnants of his captivity on the tip of his tongue when they kissed. Ichigo was given so much to look forward to, in that small moment, and remembering it made things stir inside him. Ichigo hated that he had no distractions in the mean time. From what he'd learned, such punishments were routine for Espada that overstepped their bounds. Grimmjow might be there still for days, weeks. Ichigo had little to do but wait. Though he had Nel to keep him company, it wasn't what he wanted.

Ichigo wasn't sure how long he'd been stuck brooding with nothing but his own thoughts, but suddenly he felt the Espada's reiatsu gathering towards him—Grimmjow was on the move. Ichigo was terrible at sensing these things, but knew he wasn't mistaken in this.

Grimmjow arrived in no time, panting, his feet leaving deep depressions in the sand near Ichigo's rubble-pile. His face was alight and eager, narrowed eyes and pinning Ichigo where he sat. "Hey." Grimmjow said it while smiling, as though he could barely contain himself.

"'Hey', huh? What d'you want?" Ichigo asked lazily, scowling. "Out on good behavior?" He leapt down from his seat, but didn't move any closer. He'd been screwed around by the arrancar for long enough to know not to make the first move.

"Aizen got tired of fucking around with me. I must not be as interesting to him as I am to you."

Ichigo snorted, annoyed. "Is that what you think." He didn't like being called on his own interests, especially when it came to Grimmjow.

"Che, yeah," Grimmjow's skin was shining with sweat, and dirt marred his chest. "You ain't runnin' away, are ya?"

"Couldn't you take a bath or something first?" Ichigo turned his nose up. "You smell."

"That enough to make you stay away?"

"It should be." It wasn't, but there was nothing that would force his hand. Ichigo crossed his arms, waiting.

"You fuck." Grimmjow hissed the words impatiently. The Espada leapt at him, grabbing Ichigo's shoulders and pushing him back until his spine met the boulders he'd rested upon earlier. Grimmjow's mouth was near his, and Ichigo could feel his breath against his face. "You fuck, fuck you."

Then Ichigo's jaw was gripped in a long-fingered hand, clutching and drawing their mouths together. He let the arrancar do it, his own arms dropping to Grimmjow's sides and threading around, pulling him closer. Ichigo murmured, something without words, as Grimmjow mashed their lips together.

He tasted better than Ichigo had anticipated, but maybe that was just a measure of how much he didn't care. An earthy taste that drew Ichigo's tongue to respond, flicking against Grimmjow's as it wove into his mouth.

The arrancar's free arm wrapped around his body, not letting Ichigo escape, and his entire body seemed to sigh, melting up against the Espada. Ichigo's fingers clenched against Grimmjow's back, nails biting into his skin, and anticipation leapt in his stomach. Grimmjow had clearly been marinating in his own sweat on the dirt floor of his cell and he smelled of it, a deep green scent that was intensely personal.

Ichigo nipped at the other man's tongue, drawing his teeth across it and the arrancar moaned. His hips shivered up, pinning Ichigo where he stood. "I know you want this," Grimmjow whispered, a whine between their closely-connected lips. "Quit acting like you don't."

Ichigo scratched his fingers across Grimmjow's bare abdomen, hitching himself up against the rock at his back so their mouths were even, and laughed. "I'm not acting, dipshit." Grimmjow bent to lick at his adam's apple, his whole body pressing against Ichigo. "You left me waiting. I'm not going to just, ah—let you forget that—"

"You will." Grimmjow's sharp canines grazed his throat, and even though it was dangerous, a threat, Ichigo didn't care. The promise of power and a fight between them was what Ichigo wanted; he would've hated to ruin their rivalry even if it meant gaining this.

Grimmjow kissed him deeply, his hips thrusting up between Ichigo's legs, spreading them apart. Ichigo's hands stroked in his hair, licking at the other man's tongue, and he felt his knees shiver up so he could wind them around Grimmjow. It should've been embarrassing, spreading himself open like this, but wasn't; not when Ichigo had spent so much time thinking of doing the same thing.

"Hah," he whined, not meaning to, a gasp with words. His lips were open and his brain had stopped working several minutes before, mouth spilling out what was left over. "Does it bother you, then; being ignored, the way you ignored me—"

"Fuck, stop talking—" Grimmjow snarled, teeth bared against Ichigo's skin.

Ichigo knew with a certain sure clarity that they were in the open; Aizen might be watching—knowing everything that occurred under the dome—they couldn't fuck here even if it was exactly what Ichigo had on his mind. He kicked the arrancar's legs aside, struggling away from him. "We can't do this now, not here—"

"Here's as good as anywhere," Grimmjow snapped and caught him, pulling him back but Ichigo wedged an arm between them.

Grimmjow tried to get closer and Ichigo snatched the arrancar's mask-fragment, holding his face still and kissing him with only his lips. "Come with me."

Grimmjow made a growl against his mouth, chasing after it as Ichigo drew away. Ichigo started off toward his room, running and then using shunpo and Grimmjow was right behind him. Ichigo knew the way better, and was toeing off his shoes and socks by the time Grimmjow slammed the door behind them.

The arrancar took two steps towards him, grabbing Ichigo and pressing him backwards until the backs of Ichigo's knees hit the foot of his bed. He stumbled and Grimmjow bore them down, crawling on top of Ichigo and between his legs.

Grimmjow tore at his shirt and the fastenings ripped. "Watch it, dumbass!" Ichigo snapped, even as Grimmjow pushed the uniform off, tearing it further.

"Never looked good on you anyway." Grimmjow tossed the torn garment over his shoulder before stripping out of his own jacket. Ichigo's hands reached for his bare skin, dragging Grimmjow back to him. The arrancar's mouth was over his, kissing him and tipping Ichigo's head back to expose his throat. Grimmjow nipped at the tender skin beneath Ichigo's jaw, murmuring, "Been thinking about doing this ever since I got locked in that damn cage, you don't even fucking know—"

Grimmjow's tongue touched his collarbone and then further down—his sternum and navel, to the waist of Ichigo's hakama, and his body shivered up to meet his mouth. Ichigo made an incoherent sound, his hands over Grimmjow's shoulders and drawing the other man closer until Grimmjow licked the hollow of his hip, teeth grazing against the bone, and it seemed as though all of Ichigo came lurching towards him involuntarily.

"Nothing else to think about for hours and hours, how I was gonna have you, just like this—" Grimmjow slid a hand under his lower back, following the curve of Ichigo's spine up to his shoulder blades as his body arched.

"Ah, hah, oh fuck you, you prick," Ichigo whined, and then Grimmjow's mouth was over his, demanding. Ichigo wrapped his legs around Grimmjow's hips—the contact made his muscles shiver, and he flipped them both until Grimmjow was beneath him with Ichigo across his waist.

Grimmjow seemed startled by the sudden change of position, but Ichigo kissed him, at the corner of his mouth and then inside, letting his body fall heavily. He could feel Grimmjow's cock, hard between his legs, against his own.

Grimmjow was pinned under him. Grimmjow—Ichigo hated the man, because he made everything between them a battle. The arrancar could do nothing but be arrogant and proud and yet here he was: whining, his body writhing under Ichigo's touch; it was intoxicating.

Ichigo licked into the hollow of Grimmjow's throat, hearing him moan and feeling the vibrations on his tongue. Grimmjow's body was twisting impatiently beneath him, throat bared as Ichigo nipped and bit from his collarbone to Grimmjow's chin.

"Oh fuck," Ichigo hissed, his face close to Grimmjow's. His fingers curled around the edge of the mask at the back of Grimmjow's face. "What do you like, I'll do anything; just tell me—"

"Fucking shut up—" Grimmjow snarled, and rolled them again. Ichigo made a muffled noise, legs winding on either side of Grimmjow with his hands gripping, and his fingernails dragged against the arrancar's shoulder blades. Grimmjow was making short work of the sash at Ichigo's waist, kissing a line down his chest to Ichigo's stomach and sipping at his bellybutton, before jerking the hakama past his hips.

Ichigo's cock was suddenly very bare, all of him was. His breath choked in his throat; he'd always hated being naked. But the way Grimmjow looked at him as Ichigo lifted himself up on his elbows seemed more intimate than anything; he could be fully clothed, and he would've felt as though he were wearing nothing at all. It was like Grimmjow had never seen him before in his life, drinking him in with his eyes, and Ichigo squirmed.

"Don't stare at me, asshole." Ichigo didn't exactly know the right response, to be naked like this, with someone watching him the way Grimmjow was. He could feel his skin flush; it was embarrassing.

"Heh, can't help it," Grimmjow said, before his mouth sealed loosely against Ichigo's. His tongue flicked inside, one hand over the pounding beat of Ichigo's heart in his chest. Grimmjow hissed, the sound of a ragged whisper, "Oh fuck, you're so good, aren't you? Let me do everything to you."

Ichigo's stomach jumped at his words. "How d'you—ah, how're we gonna do this?" He said, drawing away to lick suddenly dry lips, and Grimmjow pounced on him.

Ichigo's cock was far too obvious as it rubbed against Grimmjow's belly, "Let me get inside, fuck, I'll make you scream—"

"That's good," Ichigo said, though his voice sounded strange and choked. His body was arching upwards of its own volition, reaching for Grimmjow as the arrancar licked a trail from his throat to his waist; his teeth sank into Ichigo's hip, and it made him whine and jerk. He could feel Grimmjow's smirk on the skin of his stomach.

Ichigo hissed with his fingers knotting in Grimmjow's hair, "Don't stop, you fucking prick!"

"Maybe I wanna hear you beg first," Grimmjow said, and his smile was wide against Ichigo's hip.

"Keep dreaming—"

One of Grimmjow's hands slid under Ichigo, against his backside and spine, and then Grimmjow licked up the side of his dick and Ichigo lost his mind.

He wanted something to reach for to take hold of and anchor himself but there wasn't anything, just the bed and the pillow behind his head. Such innocent framings for something quite the opposite, when Grimmjow was swallowing him alive and taking him whole. Ichigo's hands convulsed, trying to hold him closer just as his hips and body bent towards Grimmjow's mouth.

Grimmjow's tongue was on him and against him, painfully; Ichigo imagined that he'd burst apart and then the arrancar took him deeper, hands against Ichigo's hips holding him in place. Ichigo's mouth was open, and whatever was coming out of it he wasn't sure, embarrassing sounds and yelps; Grimmjow would lord this over him until the day he died. And if he did, what then—would it really be so bad? It was a betrayal of everything if Ichigo just gave in, but he was and he didn't care, and in that moment, Grimmjow didn't seem to care either—

And then Grimmjow fucking stopped—his mouth drawing away from Ichigo's aching erection while his hands thumbed up the sides of his ribcage. "Oh fuck, please," Ichigo hissed, his hips thrusting up at Grimmjow for any kind of contact he could have.

"See, that's more like it."

"Asshole!" Ichigo scowled; he hadn't been begging, but he also hadn't really been thinking, either.

Grimmjow's cock was rigid, Ichigo could feel it. The arrancar flipped him over suddenly so that Ichigo was laying flat on his stomach. His head was dizzy. His fingers pulled at the sheets as Grimmjow licked from the knobbed tip of his spine, from his neck and downwards. He felt as though he was melting, with the way Grimmjow's tongue traced the curve of his backbone, the arrancar's sharp mask scraping against his skin.

Ichigo's body shivered up against Grimmjow's, which covered him, and at the door came a knock, insistent and loud and Ichigo stiffened.

"It's nothing," Grimmjow growled, against the back of his ribcage.

Ichigo's mouth was open against the pillows, and he made an agreeing sound, just before the knock sounded again. "I'm not, ah, here—not here," he said, not knowing if he was speaking to the person at the door, or in general and Grimmjow snarled, clearly aimed towards whoever was interrupting them, "Fuck off!"

There was a pause—maybe he imagined it, Ichigo wasn't sure because Grimmjow's hands were curving over his hips, from behind this time—but the knocking resumed with determination and Ichigo's stomach lurched. It was Nel—it had to be Nel; she was the only one who gave a fuck about him, and she was at the door, wanting to see him.

She'd heard Grimmjow answer, and that would only increase her curiosity; she'd be worried about him, locked in the same room with Grimmjow. She'd keep at it. Until she pounded the door down. And when she did, she'd see Ichigo like this: on his bed, on his stomach with Grimmjow at his back and upon him, both of them naked or on the way there—Ichigo couldn't remember how many clothes Grimmjow still had on, it couldn't be much—and then Grimmjow's mouth was against the base of his spine, and Ichigo whimpered.

His face was buried against the linen, and in his mind, Ichigo was chanting: not Nel, not Nel, not Dondochakka and not Pesche, please please not Nel—and Grimmjow drew a wet, slicked finger down the cleft of his ass which Ichigo pressed eagerly back against, his mouth open and a helpless sound coming out—

The door opened and Ichigo was still mentally praying, but then: "What are you doing."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and the dispassionate voice pressed into Ichigo's mind like the needle on a record pushing down, down and scratching: Not Ulquiorra—

Before he could make so much as a squeak, Grimmjow's body was spread over his own, protectively; Ichigo could imagine the scene as though through Ulquiorra's eyes: he was looking for Grimmjow. He had found him. In Ichigo's room. And here they were, doing—this. It was so clear from Ulquiorra's eyes, had Ichigo had them; Grimmjow was stretched above him naked and feral and challenging the other arrancar for a fight, because he thought Ulquiorra was here for him, for Ichigo—and Ichigo's body was burning up with heat and redness, prickling with needles because of what Ulquiorra had to be seeing—

Ichigo's frame was pressed hard against the mattress with Grimmjow atop him, arms on either side of Ichigo's shoulders. Ichigo turned his face away, and clenched his eyes shut until they hurt.

Grimmjow snarled, and Ichigo could feel his voice rumble through is body, plastered together as they were. "What the fuck d'you want?"

"Aizen-sama wishes to speak with you."

"Aizen-sama can fucking wait—"

"Don't be stupid. Whatever it is you're…doing…can clearly wait. Unless you want me to report. In full." Ichigo heard the exchange but didn't see it, his skin enflamed. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, and his fingers gripped to the sheets as though gravity didn't exist.

Ulquiorra continued, "And I will, Grimmjow. Report. To everyone."

Ichigo could tell it was a challenge, and he really, really didn't want Grimmjow to take the second Espada up on it.

Grimmjow instead snorted, angry and agitated, "Fuck, fine. Now get out."

"Do not make us wait." And that was all Ulquiorra had to say. The door shut again, and Ichigo took a breath that seemed like it came straight out of the bottom of his lungs. His body was shaking and he couldn't seem to make it stop.

"God-fucking-dammit!" Grimmjow cursed, sitting back on his haunches. Ichigo glanced over his shoulder; the arrancar was dragging a hand through his hair angrily. "Fuck!"

"Are you okay?" It seemed like a natural question.

"What?" Grimmjow's eyes fixed back on him. "Damn, what's wrong with you? You feel like you're coming apart!"

He flipped Ichigo onto his back; Ichigo let him. "I'm fine," he snapped.

"You're red as fuck; did I really get you that worked up?" Grimmjow's face was grinning, smug. It was terribly irritating. He sobered, glaring after where Ulquiorra had been standing. "Goddammit, I am gonna kill that fucker—"

"No, no, it's fine; I'm fine—"

Then Grimmjow kissed him, both hands cupping Ichigo's face as his tongue swept hurriedly in his mouth. Ichigo's fingers curved around Grimmjow's hips as the other man mumbled against his mouth—"Be back in a minute, this is just bullshit—"

Then he was pushing away, off the bed and dragging his pants up while he searched for his jacket. "I dunno what this is about. Can't be anything important, but y'know that asshole—Ulquiorra, I mean—no fucking clue what the fuck he's sticking his goddamn nose into, and where did my shoes get to?"

"Under the bed," Ichigo said, wrapping a sheet around his waist and heaving himself up, though his mind seemed to be left very far away.

"Yeah, thanks." Grimmjow was stuffing his shoes onto his feet, his jacket in one hand. He roped an arm around Ichigo's shoulders and stuck their mouths together. He kissed Ichigo for what had to have been a long time, and Grimmjow's lips brushed against his as he spoke. He was smiling. "Hmm, this is so good. Wait for me, yeah? Don't put your clothes on."

"Sure," Ichigo answered. He wasn't sure what else to say. His fingers were in Grimmjow's hair a moment before the arrancar twisted away from him, shrugging his coat on and stepping through the door.

"Back in a minute, huh, shinigami?"

The door shut, and Ichigo was left feeling naked and dazed. He shivered; sweat was drying on his skin and he felt, instantly, very absurd and ridiculous. He wondered if he'd feel any less embarrassed or shaken up if it'd been anyone other than Ulquiorra at the door—if Ichigo had been caught with someone else other than Grimmjow

He could feel heat scorching up his face just at the memory, and flopped bonelessly on his back. Ichigo tried not to think about what it would be like when he next crossed paths with Ulquiorra. Instead, he wondered what could be so goddamn important for Aizen to go chasing after Grimmjow, fresh out of detainment. Ichigo hoped that whatever it was wouldn't take the arrancar long.


"Some things may never be unseen, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra said it in that dead, emotionless voice of his.

"Why dontcha pop your eyeball out and shake it, maybe that'll help," Grimmjow snapped.

Ulquiorra tipped his head to the side, staring at Grimmjow consideringly. "That is not how things work."

Well, no fucking shit, Grimmjow wanted to say, but didn't; he didn't particularly want to provoke Ulquiorra moments before they'd be meeting with Aizen. They were waiting in their lord's audience chamber, alone, and Grimmjow's skin was starting to itch from the way Ulquiorra was glaring at him. If it could even be called a glare—a glare actually required effort.

"I certainly hope you were not abusing your human." Ulquiorra's flat voice echoed slightly in the empty room. "How irresponsible."

"Che, you're just jealous 'cause you ain't got your little girlfriend anymore," Grimmjow returned. "I'd think about how much time you spent in her room before you go around throwing stones."

"I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth than what you're thinking."

"Riiight." Grimmjow let his shoulders slump against the side of the room, arms crossed over his chest.

He could still taste Kurosaki in his mouth; all that lean, tan skin he'd drunk in—he was just so goddamn alive, more alive than anything Grimmjow'd had before. More than a fight, better than a fight—a battle and then some; someone who'd come up against Grimmjow and not stop, not until both of them were broken and destroyed, and if it just so happened that along the way they ended up naked and rolling around, gasping, Grimmjow wasn't about to be the first to complain…

Grimmjow couldn't stop thinking about the way the shinigami'd been coming almost out of his mind, breathless and shivering, arching into his mouth, and the sound of him—fuck, Grimmjow could feel his hard-on returning. How long was this gonna take? He had extremely pressing matters to attend to.

He was going to find Ichigo after this—hopefully he was still in his room, in his bed—naked—and all the things Grimmjow had on his mind for what they were gonna do would keep them busy for the rest of the week, if Grimmjow had his way. Opening Kurosaki up, over and over again; really finding out what made him scream—it was gonna be like when he'd first fought the little bastard and got to learn all his weaknesses. Kurosaki was always full of surprises then, and Grimmjow didn't doubt the shinigami would prove the same now. He hoped the little bastard fought back against him, just the same; Grimmjow would have to earn everything that he took

Grimmjow wiped at a trickle of sweat on the back of his neck, and returned the glare Ulquiorra continued to shoot in his direction. "Stop fucking staring at me, freak!"

"I had no idea your base desires included things other than violence."

Violence was starting to sound pretty good, in Grimmjow's mind.

Ulquiorra continued, "You never cease to amaze me with your revolting perversions."

"You're the dumbass who opened the door," Grimmjow sneered, petulantly.

"An act I will regret for the remainder of my existence."

That almost made Grimmjow laugh, but then Aizen arrived through an entrance behind his throne. He didn't ascend to it, and instead proceeded towards them. Grimmjow straightened, and Ulquiorra's eyes finally left him, lowered demurely in respect.

Little goddamn kiss-ass. Ulquiorra was only jealous of what Grimmjow had because he spent all his time sucking Aizen-sama's shriveled dick—Grimmjow had to clench his teeth hard to prevent himself from snickering at his own, private joke.

"You found him, excellent," Aizen said. "I have a mission for the both of you. There has been considerable movement from Seireitei into the living realm in the past few days."

The living realm? Grimmjow knew he only paid jack-for-shit attention during any meeting Aizen felt fit to hold, but he coul've sworn Karakura was still under some sorta spell, something Seireitei had done to shift its living population into an alternate, slumbering dimension. That Aizen hadn't mentioned that things weren't just the same caught his interest, but Grimmjow wasn't about to betray that. Not if it meant that Kurosaki had truly gotten him so distracted that Grimmjow had discounted all else; it woudn't be wise to show his ignorance, particularly in front of Aizen.

Speaking of which, the other shinigami was continuing, "It is of great interest to me to determine what is going on. Please, I ask of you only on this mission to observe and report, there is no need to engage."

A recon misson? Now? Grimmjow's jaw was tight to prevent the scalding grimace he'd be throwing Aizen otherwise. All other thoughts for what the shinigami's motivations were gone in a moment. A jaunt into the real world would take days—weeks here, in Hueco Mundo, where time moved more slowly—all Grimmjow could think of was Ichigo, waiting for him.

Kurosaki would be shifting impatiently by now, his toned skin betraying the muscles underneath as he twisted against the bedsheets—and Grimmjow could relieve him of that tension just so easily; with the way the shinigami responded, he'd have Kurosaki bending and begging in only moments—

"Is something wrong, Grimmjow?" Aizen regarded him kindly.

"Nothing," Grimmjow snapped, his voice taut.

"Grimmjow has developed disturbing new habits." Ulquiorra supplied it as though Grimmjow had taken up eating his own toenails.

"Oh, good." Their master smiled benignly, as though he were privy to Grimmjow secret and silently approved. It was disturbing to say the least. "I regret dragging you away, especially after you had just recently gained your freedom. I'm sure your matters will hold for the meantime.

"Perhaps this will be a lesson in obedience? You would not have been detained in the first place, had you been more agreeable. I'm sure you realize this." Aizen smiled; less of a sneer, and more of an obnoxiously knowing expression. Grimmjow hated it. "But as I was saying. Grimmjow, I ask you to protect our second Espada; you are the most apt to perform this task, given your strength. Ulquiorra's ability to see and record will prove most vital, and I rely upon you to insure that he is able to do that."

"Of course," Grimmjow responded through gritted teeth. Anything to get this over with quicker. He wondered if he'd have a chance to get back to his room before they left, but it was not a moment later that Aizen himself opened up a garganta to their designated location.

Grimmjow was filthy, deep in his bones and his thoughts but still, he stepped through the gateway feeling yawning regret; it was a notion unfamiliar to him, going into a potentially hazardous battle situation. Grimmjow had always anticipated confrontation; he yearned for it. His mind, however, could not be dissuaded. If the upcoming battle had been diverted, Grimmjow knew he'd have what he wanted—Kurosaki, bowing at his feet, his strong shoulders bent towards him; Grimmjow would see that anything Ichigo asked for was answered in kind, in the same angry, antagonistic tones that the shinigami demanded. He was Grimmjow's own, caught and claimed and now, over all things, Grimmjow wanted to show Kurosaki just how much he belonged to him.

Grimmjow clenched his teeth, knowing it would be a long while before he could prove that. He was going into a fight, to kill and devour—Grimmjow cursed Kurosaki then, for diverting his focus and making the things he loved most seem so insignificant.


Please leave a review if you have the time! :D I realize it's like almost an entire year since I began posting this fic, so I wanted to give a big thank-you to everyone who's been reading since then and to everyone who's left feedback. It really makes my day and helps with the motivational aspect to writing all of this...I am a bad procrastinator, so I appreciate everyone who's stuck with this fic up until now 3