I do apologize for the long wait...RL has been (and still is) seriously crazy lately, what with having to get used to a new (really intense) boss and preparing for the new house. I'm afraid my update schedule is going to be like that for a while until things settle own.

Thanks for bearing with me, and I hope that this doesn't discourage people from following this story. :)


Not for the first time, Kisuke watched his nephew with a slight frown as the teenager chatted with their blue-haired visitor. The man was laughing at something Ichigo had just said, and Ichigo was grinning back, his trademark scowl absent from his boyish features.

It was getting worrisome, even though Kisuke knew he was probably being overprotective and paranoid. Ichigo was smart, but he was also young and overly-trusting. It was easy to see that the boy no longer saw Grimmjow as a suspicious character, and that made Kisuke feel uncomfortable in a way he couldn't even begin to describe.

"You think too much," Juushirou admonished with a shake of his head as he followed his lover's gaze. "Ichigo is just being friendly..."

Kisuke snorted. "I was just being friendly when I met you too," he muttered. "Look how that turned out."

There was a soft chortle before Juushirou replied, "Are you implying that I seduced your young, innocent self, my dear Kisuke?"

Kisuke's eyes lit up as he chuckled, then, eyeing his nephew again, he sighed. "I'm thinking of asking Jaegerjaques to room with Tessai. What do you think?"

But he knew already, of course, that his partner of eleven years would try to talk him out of it. Juushirou had always been more tactful, more mellow, compared to Kisuke.

Sure enough, Juushirou arched his brows. "Is that really necessary?" he asked. "You know Ichigo won't have it...and look at Mr. Jaegerjaques, that man treats Ichigo like a child."

Kisuke shot another glance at Ichigo and was just in time to see their guest ruffle the boy's hair. Juushirou's right; but then again, Kisuke was never one to ignore his gut feelings, and his internal alarm bells somehow just wouldn't stop bugging him ever since Jaegerjaques arrived on his doorsteps. It was the gun, of course, and then there was the fact that he hadn't been able to find any information about the man.

A gentle swipe from Juushirou's fingers smoothed out some of the creases on his forehead before their eyes met in silent understanding. Kisuke's lips quirked into a slight smile. He knew Juushirou knew that he wouldn't just let it be.


Ichigo wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed when Grimmjow was suddenly tasked with manning the gas station slash convenience store register along with Juushirou. This meant less time to study the mysterious man, but it also prevented him from making a total fool of himself.

Ichigo's stress level had been so high in the past few weeks that he was certain he would be diagnosed with high blood pressure if he were to take a blood pressure test. Grimmjow was good company, and they had grown more comfortable with each other as they worked side by side with Tessai, but Ichigo still felt extremely self conscious next to the older man. He felt so...young, and that bugged him more than anything, even though he didn't understand why. His age had never bothered him, but now, he couldn't help but wish that he was just a little older. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so silly having a crush on Grimmjow.

Then again, it was probably silly—not to mention completely irrational—to have a crush on any stranger in the first place. Grimmjow had been staying with them for a little more than a month now, and still they knew nothing more about him than what they'd learned on the first day. His memory had not returned.

Ichigo could tell that the man was frustrated. Grimmjow didn't sleep well at night; the man constantly tossed and turned like he was waging a war with his blanket. Ichigo had never felt so useless in his life.

But being indoors must've bored Grimmjow to death, because Ichigo found him standing outside the shop when he came back from an errand trip with Tessai.

The first thing that caught Ichigo's eyes as soon as Tessai's truck rolled into their compound was a tuff of cerulean hair behind their lone gas pump. Grimmjow was leaning against the pillar, arms folded over his chest with his lips pursed into a scowl. His hair was the best-looking unruly mess Ichigo had ever seen.

"Something wrong?" Ichigo asked as he strolled up to the older man, leaving Tessai to park their battered-up truck in the garage by himself.

Grimmjow's scowl deepened, but he shook his head. "I swear, if I hear another one of your uncle's lame jokes, I'm gonna kill myself," he grumbled.

Ichigo snickered. "Yeah, they're pretty terrible, aren't they?"

Grimmjow huffed, and Ichigo watched, eyes wide and greedy, as the older man's breath lifted the few stray strands of hair that had been hanging over his forehead. For a split second, Ichigo felt a sudden urge to run his fingers through those sky blue locks just to see how soft they were. As soon as he realized his own thoughts, his cheeks burned like someone had slapped him. He quickly turned away from Grimmjow and hoped fervently that his hair was long enough to hide his face.

"Say, I've been meaning to ask," Grimmjow's deep, slightly nasal voice caused Ichigo to turn back to him. "What's a kid like you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

Ichigo bristled immediately. What's with this kid business? He opened his mouth to snap at his crush, but his harsh words died in his throat under the assault of the man's piercing gaze. Grimmjow was looking at him intently, his eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

"I'm escaping from home, I guess," Ichigo ended up mumbling petulantly instead. Damn. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed. He actually hadn't given much thought about the situation with his dad lately, and now he suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

Grimmjow quirked his eyebrows. "Escape from home?"

Ichigo sighed and pondered if he should talk about his problem. He wasn't the type to go around spilling his gut to people, but then again, this was Grimmjow. So he did, haltingly at first, and then everything just tumbled from his lips as Grimmjow listened quietly. By the time Ichigo was done with his story, the man's brows had just about disappeared into his hairline.

"You probably think I'm lame, huh?" Ichigo muttered.

"Nah." A lopsided smirk crept onto Grimmjow's face. There was a pregnant pause before the man added, "Not lame...just kinda dumb."

Ichigo's jaw fell slack.

Grimmjow unfolded his arms and pushed himself off of the pillar. "You gonna live his life or yours?" he asked in a challenging tone, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "You're a smart kid, you just have to stop trying to please everyone."

Ichigo was floored completely by the man's bluntness. If this had come from anyone else, he would've socked them in the jaw, but hearing it from Grimmjow...it gave him a surge of strength instead. He almost frowned at how biased he was getting.

"Easy for you to say..." he mumbled. The image of his twin baby sisters popped into his head—their wide and frightened eyes darting between him and their father every time Ichigo had an argument with him about this issue.

"Seriously," Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "You gotta take a stand and stick to it. You're practically a grown-up now."

Ichigo let that jab go for now. Grimmjow's right, he should stop stalling. He needed to show his dad that he wasn't just acting on a whim. It was a serious life decision, he wasn't "going through a phase" like his dad thought he was. Suddenly feeling stressed, he let out a dejected sigh.

Grimmjow must've sensed the shift in his mood, because the man cleared his throat and tried to change the subject.

"So, what do you do when you're not fighting with your dad?"

"Uhh," Ichigo scratched the back of his head as he suppressed the urge to fidget under Grimmjow's expectant look. "Study, I guess."

The older man rolled his eyes so dramatically that Ichigo was surprised that his eyeballs didn't get stuck inside their sockets. Feeling irked, he added defensively, "And karate, okay? I'm not a nerd or anything."

"Never said you were," Grimmjow said, his face suddenly brightening. "Karate, you say? How about we spar a little? I can use the exercise."

Ichigo raised an eyebrow. Remembering the relentless teasing from Grimmjow, he asked smugly, "You sure you're up to it, old man?"


Grimmjow fucking lied.

The hair on Ichigo's face tingled as Grimmjow's fist narrowly missed its target. The man had said that he just wanted to stretch his limbs and work off his boredom, but once he got started, it was obvious that Grimmjow knew a trick or two about fighting.

It wasn't karate, Ichigo noted. If he had to guess, he'd say it was more like mixed martial arts, an interesting blend of Asian styles and Western boxing. After a clumsy, tentative start, Grimmjow began to wield his arms and legs with almost expert ease. The triumphant grin on his face was practically splitting his face in half, yet it didn't look like the man even realized what he was doing.

"Come on! You're not even trying!" Grimmjow taunted gleefully as Ichigo backpedalled again to dodge another one of his powerful punches.

Too winded to retort, Ichigo scowled darkly. It wasn't fair, although he would die before admitting it. Grimmjow had at least thirty pounds of pure muscle on him, and the man seemed almost half-crazed as he cackled madly, eyes sparkling with a gleam of excitement.

"Stop being a pussy and hit me already!"

Ichigo growled in annoyance and gave it a shot. He abandoned his karate stance and dropped to the ground into a crouch and lashed out in an attempt to swipe Grimmjow's feet from under him. Taken by surprise, the older man nearly tripped over, his fists connecting with nothing but air.

Letting out a whoop of victory, Ichigo followed up with an upward elbow strike, aiming for Grimmjow's solar plexus. For a moment, he thought he had it in the bag, but then there was a bark of laughter and a pair of hands caught his elbow in an iron grip. The next thing he knew, he was on his back under a crushing weight like someone had thrown a bag of bricks over him.

"Gah!" he cried out as he grappled with Grimmjow. The man had him pinned tightly on the dusty concrete surface, the weight and height difference between them becoming painfully clear.

Grimmjow only laughed maniacally as Ichigo squirmed beneath him, trying hard to shake him off. Grunting, Ichigo lifted his head in an attempt to head-butt the older man.

Bad move.

In a flash, a corded arm pressed against his throat, cutting off his air supply. Ichigo gasped, trying to breathe, but all he managed was a few choking wheezes before the pressure on his throat increased. His eyes widened in alarm, panic beginning to seize him as he stared up into Grimmjow's fiery blue eyes.

And then he drove his knee, hard, into Grimmjow's crotch.

The older man rolled off of him with a howl, hands flying to cup his precious jewels as Ichigo sat up shakily. His throat ached something awful; he probably wouldn't be singing for a while.


Sheer. Agonizing. Pain.

Grimmjow laid on his side with his knees drawn up towards his stomach as he tried to breathe through clenched teeth. Damn, that kid's knee was made of fucking steel!

"Dude, you okay?" Ichigo's voice floated down from above.

"Unggh," Grimmjow groaned in response. His crotch throbbed beneath his palms, the pain still intense enough to cut off the functionality of his brain cells.

There was a shuffling of feet, then Ichigo plopped down next to him. "Sorry," the boy said sheepishly.

Grimmjow grunted and shot a murderous glare at the kid.

"You were strangling me," Ichigo pointed to his neck, his voice sounding oddly hoarse.

Sure enough, there was an angry-looking red mark across that slender neck. Grimmjow frowned, suddenly worried. Did he really do that?

"Did I bust 'em?" Ichigo croaked with a grin.

"Ha, ha."

Grimmjow prodded his equipment gingerly and winced when they protested his touch. It hurt like hell but it looked like they're still intact, thank god. He remained on the ground and waited for the pain to subside, oblivious to the dirt that was sticking to his sweaty skin and clothes.

"So..." Ichigo's scratchy voice came hesitantly. "You can fight."

Grimmjow stilled as the comment registered in his head. He blinked at the boy, his chest suddenly filled with a mixture of excitement and confusion. Ichigo stared back him with a conflicted look, like he had something to say but daren't.

A heavy sense of depression settled over Grimmjow. "No, haven't remembered a fucking thing," he muttered.

He was met with silence and kept his gaze averted. He didn't want to see the look of pity that Ichigo would surely give him. Hell, he'd better not say something stupid like "I'm sure it'll be okay" or "you'll be fine"—empty words that were uttered solely to fill awkward moments like this.

Except, Ichigo didn't. And then to Grimmjow's astonishment, he felt long, thin fingers thread through his hair—his damp, messy hair that was no doubt reeking of sweat.

The kid was ruffling his hair. Grimmjow couldn't help but chuckle.

"Let's go in," he heard Ichigo say.

Nodding, he was about to struggle to his feet, mindful of the still-tender goods between his legs, when the kid's fingers slipped from his hair. They ghosted over his cheeks, lingering just a heartbeat too long for it to be accidental. His head snapped up to look at Ichigo and only managed to catch a glimpse of rosy cheeks before the boy jerked his arm away and turned around in a hurry.

Perplexed, Grimmjow brought a hand up to touch his cheek absently, right where Ichigo's fingers had been.

So soft.

Then he shook his head and laughed inwardly at himself. He must be overdue for some self-love, because for a split second, he had actually wished that Ichigo hadn't pulled away so quickly. With another shake of his head, Grimmjow brushed his bangs away from his forehead and half-limped, half-jogged after the kid.


"I'll have to call in a favor from an old friend," the haughty voice sounded peeved on the other end of the phone. "You owe me big for this, Urahara."

Kisuke smiled wryly. "Of course, Ishida," he replied.


To be continued...