Zenith: Tsumi

by Shapooda

3 months after the end of Zenith, Ichigo is trying to get back into normalcy, (whatever counts for normal for a demigod) and he accidentally unleashes a hell of a problem. Grimmichi

5. Desire

Queen of cockblock SHAME ON ME. I read all your reviews guys! D All of them, many times. I feel like I need to give you a chapter before I respond, and then I end up taking forever. Everything you guys say means a ton to me! It's nice to not write into the abyss ; ^ ; Thanks for reading guys!

- xxx -

Kurosaki Ichigo

Stuck with a flower crown and a grumbling and growling arrancar should have been an awful start to a day. It wasn't. Ichigo was...happy?

Apparently, he was much less frightening to shinigami with flowers in his hair. The absurdity wasn't enough to ease most, if anything their fear was worse, simply watered down with confusion. Rukia swore up and down it helped his image and Grimmjow loathed it, so Ichigo believed her.

"It's degrading," Grimmjow grumbled. He was perched on the railing of their chosen building, hunched forward on his knees. Ichigo couldn't help but notice his jacket rode up his back, revealing pale skin and the bottom of a 6.

Nothing about this situation was different, not really, but he had the inexplicable compulsion to touch. "They're just flowers," Ichigo said, absently. He could see straight through his hollow hole to clear blue skies, the corded muscle in his lower back tensing with the bounce of his leg.

"I should have made you one too," Rukia said.

"Stick a flower in my hair and I'll rip your arm off."

Ichigo chided, "Tsk, that's a little over dramatic." He put his hand on his lower back, unreasonably pleased when Grimmjow allowed it. His skin was warm, the slide of muscle under his hand a feeling he wanted to explore. But now he was touching him for no good reason, and he felt he needed a reason. So he pushed him off the railing.

"Fuck!" Grimmjow made a startled sound trapped somewhere between a shout and a snarl, catching himself in the air on reishi footholds not ten feet below the railing. "The fuck was that for?" he called up.

Rukia giggled somewhere to his right and Ichigo said, "Stop threatening your coworkers."

"She started it," the arrancar grumbled, jumping back up to the rooftop.

"Flowers aren't a threat," Ichigo said. He noticed Grimmjow kept some wary distance between them this time, and Ichigo tried not to let his disappointment over that show.

Rukia mused, "Is there something we're missing?"

Tearing his eyes from Grimmjow, Ichigo looked back at Rukia and asked, "What do you mean? Missed something?"

"You say you thought you freed something?"

Ichigo's mind wandered back to that laughing shadow of a skeleton, and hedged, "Yeah?"

"So," Rukia continued, "We're expecting to find it in the same place; through a soul passing over or a hollow slain with a zanpakuto. If you chained a dog in a yard and the chain broke, you wouldn't expect the dog to remain in the yard, right?"

Ichigo blinked at her. "That...makes sense."

"You telling me we're wasting our time?" Grimmjow said.

"I'm just guessing," Rukia said. She folded her arms and frowned, "This doesn't seem right."

"What do ya mean?" Grimmjow asked.

Ichigo pushed his hair from his face, until his claws scraped the edge of a horn. "No, I get it," he sighed. "The rules have changed."

"So how the fuck do we find it?" Grimmjow asked. He stepped up so they were shoulder to shoulder, his arm casually brushing against his own.

Ichigo felt both of their eyes on him and he frowned. "I don't know, okay?"

"You said you sensed it before," Grimmjow said.

Ichigo let a bark of laughter slip through his teeth. It sounded a little more hysterical than he thought it would. "But it ran away," Ichigo said. "And I can't sense it anymore. Do you have any idea the level of noise in my head? It's too much. Screaming and whispering, souls and reishi and power everywhere; I can barely fucking tune it out. It wants me to listen, but I don't want to."

Ichigo stopped when Grimmjow stepped into his line of sight, sharp blue eyes searching him for something. His voice was forcibly calm, Ichigo noticed a tight line of tension buried in his words. "We won't ask you to."

Ichigo stared at him, eyes snapping to his own wrist when Grimmjow's fingers brushed against him. Blood dripped from clenched fists from where his own claws scored his palms, and he felt a flash of shame. He hadn't even noticed.

Grimmjow's touch melted his tension, the arrancar's fingers slowly uncurling his grip to hold his hand, heedless of the blood that stained his fingers. "We'll find another way."

Rukia pointedly looked elsewhere, giving him the few seconds he needed to pull himself together. These were the things he didn't want others to see. Especially the people he cared about.

Tiny failures, flickers of proof that he was falling apart.

"Easy King. Focus."

That's right, focus on Grimmjow, forget everything else. Forget it, ignore it.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Ichigo narrowed his focus to Grimmjow's breath, the beautiful, wild burn of his soul. He breathed with him, ribs expanding with a slow, full breath. He felt Grimmjow's fingers pressuring bones and flesh in an unyielding grip, one that should have been bordering on pain.

Ichigo squeezed back and opened his eyes.

Worry swam in those blue eyes, but there was also relief and pride. "There ya go," Grimmjow murmured. He let his hand go, shifting his grip to his wrist with the gentle trail of his fingertips along the taut lines of his tendons. He lifted Ichigo's hand to his mouth, licking the blood from his palm. A shiver raced up his spine along with the path Grimmjow marked with his tongue. Ichigo watched, transfixed, as his tongue traced a warm, wet trail up his lifeline and curled around a digit, carefully closing his lips around a claw. Holy shit.

Rukia cleared her throat. "Should I leave?"

Ichigo flinched, having forgotten she was there, a blush settling on his cheeks.

Grimmjow pulled away to speak, voice hoarse. "Yes."

"No," Ichigo countered. Grimmjow's lips turned down into a frown bordering on a pout. Ichigo let out a heavy breath, gently pulling his hand away. He tore his eyes away with just as much difficulty to look at Rukia, continuing as if he'd never stopped. "Proximity matters, if it's nearby, it can't hide, but if it runs to a dimension I can't follow, it's as good as gone."

"You ignoring me?" Grimmjow growled, indignant.

"Attempting too," Ichigo said. And it was hard. Grimmjow was a wonderful distraction, and the arrancar knew it.

Grimmjow reached around behind him, snatching the flower crown from his head. Ichigo turned and whined, "Hey."

His conduit waved it like a trophy in front of his nose, a smug smirk on his face. "Not payin' attention."

That was true, he tended to let his guard down around Grimmjow, and of course the other would flaunt it.

Rukia was watching with an embarrassed, but bemused smile, and hid it badly. She cleared her throat and tried to stay on topic, bless her heart. "So how do we chase it?"

Grimmjow looked at Ichigo and asked, "What's it want? Find the prey, find the fucker." He shrugged like this was common knowledge, and honestly, it was.

Ichigo frowned. "It mentioned sin. I don't know how to find that."

"How do you even measure that?" Rukia asked.

Brows drawn together, Ichigo thought aloud. "It's subjective, can you?"

Grimmjow was edging closer to Ichigo, eyes raking over his shoulders, but his tone betrayed his investment in the conversation. "Who fucking cares? Find some motherfucker and kill him. That'll attract it, right?"

"I'm not killing anyone," Ichigo said. "You hate when I do that shit anyways."

"What shit?" Grimmjow growled, "Why would I hate when you do what I say?"

Ichigo answered his first question lightly. "Judging people."

That earned him a moment of tense silence and uncomfortable looks. Rukia's was different from Grimmjow's; her's was the look of someone on the outside looking in. She wasn't his leash, his anchor, his sanity. Grimmjow was. And right now his brows were drawn tight with guilt.

Ichigo sighed through his nose. That wasn't his intention, but he knew Grimmjow felt he'd disregarded his purpose. Ichigo reached out and flicked him in the temple, only hard enough to sting.

Hand snapping to his face, Grimmjow reared back and spat. "The fuck was that for?"

"You looked guilty, which is stupid."

Grimmjow snarled, shoulders tensing into a tight line. "Fuckin' hypocrite."

A smile spread across Ichigo's face, reading the lines of his anger with nothing but anticipation and joy. "Is that the best you could come up with?'

"Motherf-" Ichigo smashed their lips together in a kiss, smothering that insult before it could leave his mouth. The moment their lips touched he sent them elsewhere, anywhere really, for privacy.

Grimmjow's hands found his hips, and Ichigo crushed them together, arms wrapped around him, jaws aching to bite, to devour the soul in his arms. Claws raked over Grimmjow's shoulders, slicing through muscle like taffy. The arrancar groaned against his lips in pain, instincts warring within the arrancar in his arms.

Fight or flight; it rang in the arrancar so strongly he could taste it. He shivered and fought like a trapped bird in his arms, and Ichigo broke their kiss with a hiss, a hand yanking his head back with a firm grip in his hair. Snapping his jaws short of his conduit's face with a growl, an arm snaked around his throat, hauling him off the arrancar and back in a steely grip.

Distance leant perspective, and Ichigo felt his tension drain away with a ragged exhale, falling limp against Zangetsu's chest.

Grimmjow's lips were smeared with blood, eyes wide and wary, but the look he gave him was merely expectant. "Ichigo?"

Ichigo was breathing almost as hard as Grimmjow, shutting his eyes with a weary mantra, "Yeah, yeah, yeah…" He was Ichigo, that was him... so what was he doing?

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes so hard he saw stars, irritated when it reminded him of die Konigin. It was so tempting to draw on the kugekito, to ease the hammering of need in his gut.

"Careful."

Ichigo didn't know what Zangetsu meant until he felt Grimmjow take his hands, fingers pressing into his palms, tugging them away from his face. Zangetsu kept a firm grim around his throat and hair, cautious on both of their behalf. Blue eyes watched him with caution and pity...no, he knew better. Grief.

"I fucked up," Ichigo said softly.

Grimmjow's chin jerked to the side in a sharp shake of his head. "No." Blood seeped from a torn and tattered lip, blooming red and dripping down his chin to stain his jacket. They stared at each other, Ichigo's hands in Grimmjow's, and neither could find the words to bridge that sudden gap.

Grimmjow knew, he knew, he fucking knew he was losing it. Ichigo thought it would be easier to hide than this...Well, he was wrong.

Blue eyes were narrowed to thin, thoughtful slits, watching him with the intensity he normally reserved for a fight.

Ichigo finally took stock of where they were standing. A lazy cricket song floated above waves of grass and wildflowers, rippling beneath a chilly night breeze. It dragged gentle fingers of sweat soaked skin, easing some of the fevered need that had taken root in his bones.

"So what was it?" Grimmjow finally asked. Ichigo stared back at him, unsure what he meant. "What set you off?"

Ichigo watched him, struggling to identify just what it was he was feeling. He was surprised when Zangetsu answered for him. "Desire."

Taken aback, Grimmjow blinked, looking from Zangetsu, back to Ichigo. "You..." And he seemed to be at a loss for words.

Ichigo blushed, unsure what the next step was. He felt like something important had been dragged into the light. "I want you more than I thought. Enough to confuse with...other stuff."

"You want me," Grimmjow repeated.

Ichigo twisted in Zangetsu's grip, but his grip was iron. "I'm fine," Ichigo growled back at his hollow.

"King, you're not. You barely understand yourself, let alone with all this bullshit. I'm doing you a favor."

And he was, he already had. He'd been ready to eat Grimmjow alive, and that reality hit him like a truck. His exhale was heavy and full of pain. "I'm sorry."

Grimmjow's mouth twisted in disgust and annoyance, but it was directed elsewhere. He dropped his hand and reached for his face. His fingers traced his jaw, calloused and gentle. "Shut the fuck up. Just...shut up."

He leaned in, and Ichigo's breath caught in his throat when his lips hovered, so close, yet wouldn't touch. The urge to fight his hollow to close the distance was strong, their breath humid between them. "Scared?" Ichigo asked, and then Grimmjow's mouth were pressed to his, cooled blood slick on his lips. Blood full of la sangre, regret, and so much soul.

Their kiss grew frantic too quickly, hungry and biting, and Grimmjow pulled away. No, that was wrong. The hand on his hair was gone, Zangetsu had pushed Grimmjow back.

Voice rough, Grimmjow said, "I know I'm irresistible, but this is somethin' else, Kurosaki."

It was a stupid joke to cover up how shaken he was, the distress was visible on his face. Ichigo snorted a dry laugh. "It's a lot to process."

Lifting a hand to his lips, Ichigo smeared the blood from them, staring down at the streak of red on the side of his hand. La sangre swam over his skin, eagerly devouring the lifeblood of his conduit. Ichigo muttered a curse, swiping a hand over his face.

"I changed my mind," Grimmjow said.

"What?"

"Use the kugeki, use something."

"You hate it," Ichigo said. He sank to the ground and Zangetsu followed him down, breath soft against the back of his neck.

Grimmjow grumbled, "Hate this too." He reached up for his torn lip, wiping away the blood only to spit the rest into the grass. "Can't get a fucking break, can you, Kurosaki?"

A light scoff fell from Ichigo's lips. "Guess not."

"Use it," Grimmjow demanded.

"No." It was easier to refuse than Ichigo thought it might be. Grimmjow's eyes narrowed, and Ichigo tried to elaborate. "Not for this." The kugeki was a crutch, it wouldn't solve his problems, it would only sweep then under the rug. He'd tried that, time and time again, and it always came back to bite him.

Grimmjow canted his head, trying to read him, and said, "Fine. You're a quick study, you'll learn." He stepped forward, then crouched before him, arms resting on his knees. "You wannit?"

"What?" Ichigo asked.

"Stupid question, koneko."

Ichigo swallowed. It.

Oh.

Grimmjow's eyes slid to Zangetsu and he asked, "Can you hold him?"

"Hold me?" Ichigo echoed.

"Probably."

Ichigo twisted to look back at his hollow and only succeeded in knocking horns with him. He made a sound of annoyance and didn't try to turn again. "Probably?"

Zangetsu's voie was close to his ear. "Can't hold you if the Gods cut me off from your reiryoku."

Ichigo didn't think he'd let that happen, but then, this was all new territory, he wasn't sure how he'd react.

Grimmjow leaned forward, sliding a hand up over his knee, along the curve of his thigh, then stopped. That motion was controlled, deliberate, and demanded all of Ichigo's attention. The warmth of Grimmjow's hand seeped through his shihakusho, all too noticeable in the chill of night.

"We left Rukia," Ichigo said. The excuse felt flimsy.

"You left Rukia," Grimmjow corrected. "She's a big girl, she'll be fine for awhile on her own." He leaned in a little closer, his shoulders urging Ichigo's knees apart.

Heart pounding, Ichigo tensed, uncertain. Zangetsu broke his loose chokehold and wrapped his arms around him from behind, pinning his arms in a tight bear hug. It should have been frightening, but he knew his hollow inside and out. His breath gusted over the back of his neck, the sharp edge of a horn resting against the side of his throat, and he felt safe, not trapped.

Struck by how absurd it all was, Ichigo started to laugh, a low, tired laugh. "Is this fucked?"

Grimmjow's lips quirked up into a small smile. "Everything's fucked, but for fuck's sake, I'm gonna give you at least one thing you want."

Ichigo couldn't find it in his heart to argue. He was selfish, but he wasn't blind either; Grimmjow wanted this too, God's be damned.

"I'd ask if this isn't more effort than it's worth," Ichigo said, "but I think I know the answer."

"Yeah, stupid question," Grimmjow said. He leaned in, pushing Ichigo's knees further apart. "Strongest fucker alive wants me?" He reached for his chest, pressing his palm to his stomach, his shihakusho flattened under the heel of his hand. His fingertips brushed the edge of his hollow hole, the warm weight of his hand following the curve of hardened muscle. He muttered, "That's a pretty big compliment."

"Don't give me too much credit," Ichigo said. "I've been selfish from the beginning. I'm nothing but bad news for you."

"Che, I'm a hollow, Kurosaki, my whole existence is bad news. Ain't got anything worth a damn besides Pantera and you."

Something painfully pleasant clenched inside him at those words. "Didn't know you were such a sap."

"Fuck you," Grimmjow muttered, but it lacked heart. Weight settled on Ichigo's stomach and he leaned in for a careful, chaste kiss. His arrancar's other hand pressed into his inner thigh, pushing his legs apart and testing his reaction.

His breath felt tangled in his throat, never having let anyone touch him so much before. Not willingly. It was a lot to process, even frightening, but nothing about the arrancar between his legs was a threat. Not to him.

There was no Szayel, there was no Aizen, just Grimmjow. Grimmjow...whose hands were on him, whose lips were touching his, so soft. Grimmjow was his. This was his, didn't he deserve something? The Gods thought they could take this, but Grimmjow was his, the Gods were his, and they could fuck off. He deepened that kiss and Grimmjow let him, urging him to take the lead despite everything.

Stupid, fucking arrancar. What had he done to inspire so much trust?

Zangetsu murmured, "If you cry during sex, King, you're never gonna live it down."

Grimmjow pulled back to look at him and Ichigo hissed, "I'm not gonna cry."

Grimmjow looked more curious than judgemental. "I know I'm new to this, but I couldn't possibly be that bad."

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "I was just thinking how stupid you are for indulging my bullshit when I want to eat you." His tone fell into a low growl and the shift in Grimmjow was visible, his pupils blowing black in interest.

"I know some of that isn't you," Grimmjow said, "but some of it is." He dropped his head, nose flush to the corded muscle of his throat, and Ichigo tensed, instincts prodding his urge to push back. It was a knee-jerk reaction bound in an interesting spike of lust.

Grimmjow mouthed his neck, laving his tongue over his skin in a wet stripe. He nipped, teeth not harming him through his hierro, but the sensation of sharp canines scraping his throat was enough to make him gasp.

"Maybe I should explain it to you?" Grimmjow murmured. His voice was low and layered with something Ichigo could only classify as aggression.

"I'm here cause I wanna be, and I hadn't given it much thought until I had you under me for once." His hand slipped from his hand to his crotch, palm pressing down on the hardening bulge in his pants. He moved his hand, fingers sliding through the folds of his shihakusho. He squeezed, uncharacteristically gentle.

Ichigo let out a heavy breath, tightening his legs around Grimmjow's waist, jerking him closer and pinning him in place at the same time. "Couldn't tell how big you were before. Damn, Kurosaki."

"Do you have to say that?"

"Why?" Grimmjow squeezed again, slightly harder, his fingers digging into the width of his arousal. "Embarrassed?"

"Shut up," Ichigo muttered.

Grimmjow couldn't move back, trapped between his legs, and he kept talking, massaging his crotch at an agonizingly slow pace. "I liked it."

His breathing undone by every stroke of Grimmjow's hand, Ichigo asked, "Liked what?"

"Having you between my legs, under me, with that fuckin' look on your face."

Grimmjow mouthed his throat, licking and sucking, and Ichigo finally let his head fall back onto Zangetsu's shoulder. The wrapped handle of his sword pressed into his ear, a dull ache that reminded him of just who was against his back, holding him tight. A pained exhale gusted over his throat, the teasing pressure of Grimmjow's teeth sliding along the underside of his jaw.

Ichigo dared to ask, "What look?"

"Like you wanted me," he rumbled.

Fuck. And he did want him, in ways that weren't always sane and weren't always him. Ichigo twisted his hips up into his hand and whispered, "You don't know the half of it."

Grimmjow hummed deep in his throat, sinking lower to his collarbone and nipped, hard enough he should have drawn blood. Ichigo found he was disappointed that he couldn't. He wanted to hold him, sink his claws in and drink his soul from his blood––

"King, settle."

Ichigo realized how hard he was fighting to escape, his arms tense within Zangetsu's hold. Grimmjow hadn't stopped rubbing him, the only difference was that he'd moved from his place at his throat to stare down at him. "You're a fuckin' handful, aren't you?"

Brows creased, Ichigo panted and asked, "Was that a dick joke?" Grimmjow blinked, then laughed, flashing his teeth in a look of pure joy that made his heart clench in a weird way.

Ichigo grumbled, "Don't laugh at me, you ass."

Grimmjow's laugh ended with a sigh and he leaned in to kiss him, hard and aggressive, his teeth scraping against his in a way that was far from comfortable or arousing, but sent a shock of need up his spine regardless. He pulled away before Ichigo could consider hurting him and Ichigo ran his tongue over his lips, tasting lingering traces of blood.

Keeping out of biting distance, Grimmjow said, "It wasn't, consider the opportunity lost, but now I know where your head's at."

Ichigo flushed and argued, "You're the one with your hand on my–" He snapped his mouth shut before he could finish that statement, choked up over a word with all new connotation.

Unfortunately, Grimmjow noticed, baring his teeth in a teasing smile. He squeezed, then pulled his hand away, a mischievous look in his eyes. "You want it, ask for it."

Blush deepening, Ichigo expression twisted into one of outrage. "Ask? Touch me!" He tightened his legs around him, pinning him to his chest and knocking the air out of him with a whump. Grimmjow only laughed, shaking with it against his stomach. It felt weird when his foot was half in the back of his hollow holw, but it was overshadowed by annoyance, because laughter meant he lost.

Grimmjow's cheek was pressed against his hollow hole, the hard edge of his mask depressing the edge, scraping as he spoke. "That's not good enough, Kurosaki. Tell me exactly what you want."

"Why?" Ichigo asked. He pulled Grimmjow so close, his lower stomach was flush to his groin, his weight hot and solid between his legs. He ignored the pulse of need and focused on Grimmjow's instead, feeling his itching desire in his soul.

His arrancar's voice was muffled against his chest. "Because, Kurosaki, I want to know what you want, I need to hear it from you."

"Shit," Kurosaki sighed, closing his eyes to the quilt of stars above him. He was oddly embarrassed over it. It was once thing to tease or joke, but another thing entirely to say something in context. Grimmjow deserved to know it was him, that it wasn't just confusing mess of need and drive from the Gods that were hollowing him out.

Grimmjow let him think, addressing his hollow instead. "Oi, hollow, why didn't this happen the first time, on the bed?"

"It did," Zangetsu said.

"You weren't supposed to tell him," Ichigo complained.

He felt Grimmjow shift against him, his left hand reaching up, his thumb brushing the tender hollow of his throat. "I said no secrets. Why is it so hard for you to trust me?"

Ichigo didn't want to look, he didn't know what he'd see there. So he opened his eyes to the glitter of stars, a sigh falling from his lips. "I do trust you, Grimmjow."

"Is that why you ran?"

"No...no I ran because I got scared. I didn't lie to you." He sagged against Zangetsu's chest, his leg-lock around Grimmjow's back loosening. "I thought I could handle it."

"The rooftop too?"

"Probably...I didn't realize how much it was affecting me."

Seconds passed by in agonizing silence, and then Grimmjow sighed, exaggerated and loud. "Shit's making me sad," he groused. "So shut up."

"Thought you wanted me to talk?" Ichigo teased.

"You know what I fuckin' mean." Grimmjow growled. He shifted against his chest again, his teeth finding the rim of his hollow hole. Ichigo arched, the sensation almost featherlight. He wanted more, that aching need the same as the first time with Grimmjow's arm in his chest.

Lost in his own feelings over it, he wasn't sure which impulses were his own, but he thought he knew what he wanted. "Bite me like you mean it," he hissed.

Grimmjow looked up at him, eyes dark with lust and asked, "Is that an order?"

Ichigo twisted to free his arms; he wanted to grab him, tear his claws into his bones and bite. He let out a heavy, frustrated exhale and snarled, "Yes."

Grimmjow's fingers raked over his ribs and his teeth clamped down over flesh with violence reserved to kill. It wasn't a love bite, it was a need to devour and consume. It never broke through his hierro but he felt it, the sensation of teeth and fangs biting to devour his soul in the same way he wanted Grimmjow.

Behind him, Zangetsu's hold loosened. His hands shot out to grab Grimmjow, but his hollow caught his wrists in both hands before he could. Grimmjow watched, assessing, and let go, licking the curve of his hollow hole with a look filled with challenge.

Bowing up into Grimmjow, Zangetsu moved from behind him to force him to his back in the grass, his hands pinned over his head. Ichigo writhed to get free and Zangetsu leaned forward, all of his weight on his wrists. He ducked down, hair spilling over his neck and chest in a curtain of white. His hollow pressed his forehead to his and Ichigo stilled, panting for breath he suddenly couldn't catch. "Easy, King, easy."

He felt Grimmjow's weight settle on his hips, his bony ass unmistakable for anyone else. He felt Grimmjow's hands on his lower stomach, gentle at first, then tensing to grip his waist. He rolled his hips up, frustrated by the lack of contact. He groaned, sounding whinier than he wished he had. "I just wanna touch him."

"I know, King," Zangetsu murmured.

"S'okay, I'll do enough for the both of us," Grimmjow said. His hand wandered back to his crotch, his touch too gentle, too torturous. Bucking up into his hand, Grimmjow caught himself with a hand on his chest, and a hiss, "Say it, Kurosaki, I need to hear it."

Ichigo grit his teeth, and Zangetsu leaned back, letting him look up at Grimmjow. The arrancar really was beautiful. A few moments with Ichigo's hands in his hair had really messed him up. It was a wreck, falling into his face and complementing the red flush on his cheeks, his lip still swollen and bleeding. He was a fierce, wild thing, and for once he was willing to do whatever he wanted. Anything, and Ichigo was hung up over it like he'd fucking proposed.

Brows creased in impatience, it was what ultimately drove him to respond. Ichigo snarled, "Touch me! I want your hand on my dick, or better, your mouth. Okay?! I said it."

Grimmjow looked surprised, like he hadn't thought he'd say anything at all, but he recovered quickly enough, his mouth stretching into a wide smirk. "My mouth? Bold. You really want my teeth all over your dick that bad?"

Ichigo flushed, feeling like he was being called out. Zangetsu didn't let that go unanswered, "Yeah, he does. Tease him over it any more and maybe I'll let him maul you."

Grimmjow's smile wavered, uncertain if that threat was real. "I like hearin' it. You're a quiet fucker, Kurosaki." His fingers tugged the tie on his shihakusho, loosening and unraveling the knot. The night air was cool on his lower stomach, tugging his wrists in Zangetsu's grip, and it was all blindingly real. Grimmjow was his, he already foolishly threw his life into Ichigo's claws, but it wasn't equal. Grimmjow didn't have him back, his conduit got this tempered version of himself.

Ichigo hissed, "Wait! Wait…" Grimmjow paused, looking up at him in concern.

Letting his head fall back on the grass, Ichigo sighed and closed his eyes. The fuck did he want? He couldn't even touch him, he wanted him, but this felt wrong. "I can't do this, not like this. I can't, I can't…"

"Hey," Grimmjow said. He leaned forward, reaching for his cheek. "Look at me." His tone was hard, but his touch was gentle, even uncertain. Ichigo looked, and regretted it. Grimmjow looked sad, but there wasn't any blame there, and Ichigo wished that there was. "If you don't want this, that's fine."

Ichigo sighed, irritation making his teeth itch. "That's not my problem. I want it, I want you, and if I can't even touch you without hurting you, then…"

Grimmjow sighed, finishing the statement Ichigo couldn't. "Then better not at all." He looked away, something broken in his eyes and his heart, and Ichigo couldn't place it. His chin fell in a sharp nod, like something he feared had been confirmed, and he got up off his lap.

The space Grimmjow had occupied felt cold, the lack of weight on his lap something he'd all too quickly grown to like. Grimmjow was walking away, he was just going to leave him there? Ichigo stared at his back with sudden fear. Zangetsu let him go, not about to stand in his way when he was so desperate to bridge this sudden gap. He stood and lunged, gripping his shoulder to spin the arrancar around to face him. "Don't walk away from me!"

Grimmjow shouted right back. "Why not?! I'm never enough!"

"I don't know what that means."

"Don't be stupid," he hissed. "I break, I'm not good enough for you, you just said it."

Ichigo shouted, "You know that isn't what I meant!"

"Isn't it?"

Blinded with sudden rage, Ichigo gripped him by the jacket and hurled him into the ground. Grimmjow's back hit the ground with a grunt of pain, sliding back on dew soaked flowers.

Ichigo followed him down, his knees on either side of him. He lifted him up by the jacket just to slam him into the ground to punctuate his words. "I love you, you stupid asshole! By the very nature of what that means, you're good enough. You're more than good enough, so fucking wait, okay? Wait." That sounded more desperate than he meant it to, but he was scared, and anger was always easier than fear.

Grimmjow stared up at him in shock, but it didn't last. His eyes narrowed again in rage. "I can't even handle a kiss, Kurosaki. I'm weak."

Baring his teeth, Ichigo hissed, "No, you're mine, Jaegerjaquez. Mine."

Grimmjow paled at the shift in tone, a flicker of fear in his eyes. Ichigo grit his teeth through the urge to harm, feeling Zangetsu's presence close beside him, preparing to intervene. Ichigo didn't want him to, he wanted to stop himself. Trusting his instincts had always been so easy, but now that trust was betraying him. This was Grimmjow, he'd never consciously hurt him...or so he'd thought.

Repeating those words to himself in his head like a mantra, Ichigo let his hands fisted in Grimmjow's jacket relax, smoothing over his chest to his neck. Grimmjow eased some beneath that touch, and Ichigo raised his hand to his cheek, to the unmasked side of his face. "Don't leave because you think you aren't good enough, leave because you hate me, despise that I want to hurt you, not that you're too fragile. I'm sorry I'm like this."

Grimmjow's anger collapse in on itself, his brows drawing together in pain. "Don't apologize to me, Kurosaki, not for this."

Throat tight, Ichigo whispered, "But I am sorry."

"Kurosaki..."

Tears blurred Grimmjow face, so he squeezed them shut and hissed, "Goddammit." He didn't want to cry, he hated it, especially when he felt he had less reason to than Grimmjow. He felt arms snake around his neck, dragging him down into an uncomfortable embrace.

Ichigo sobbed, Grimmjow's hand in his hair and at his back holding him tight. He held him and he cried, angry that Grimmjow would leave like it was some sort of favor, angry at the Gods for eroding his soul, angry at his fucking hair, crushed uncomfortably between them, sticking to a cheek wet with tears, angry at his horns for being in the way.

He cried until he had no tears left, finding himself on his side, curled against Grimmjow's chest. "Pretty pathetic," he rasped.

"I ain't tellin'," Grimmjow said.

The arrancar's fingers were still tangled in his hair, massaging his scalp like a cat might knead a blanket. It was oddly comforting to be tangled in his arms without judgement, or fear, or pain. Only heartache.

So self absorbed in his own problems, it was easy to forget how badly he wanted to tear Grimmjow apart. That was sort of fucked, so he tried not to think about it.

Ichigo let out a long, slow breath, his eyes burning from tears he'd held back for too long. "I'm sorry I got you involved."

"The fuck are you rambling about?" Grimmjow growled. His fingers stopped their careful kneading to fist in his hair, either in rage or admonishment, Ichigo couldn't be sure.

"Everything. If I gave a damn about you, I'd have never forced you to be my fraccion, I'd have left you alone."

"It's not like you to have regrets," Grimmjow said.

Ichigo scoffed lightly. "It's not like me to trust either."

"So why did you do it?" Grimmjow asked, curiosity lining his tone.

"You already know. You were familiar, resilient...and I missed you."

The arrancar 's grip in his hair lessened, pulling it back from his face to tuck it behind his ear. His voice was soft. "You didn't know me."

"I didn't," Ichigo agreed. "I missed you anyway. I promised to fight you again, but I...the next time I saw you, you were dead." He rolled to his back, dislodging Grimmjow's grip, and looked up at the stars. "You keep telling me to be selfish, but I've been selfish from the beginning."

Closing his eyes to the stars, Ichigo felt Grimmjow's fingers brush his neck, tracing the underside of his jaw, almost as if he was testing that he could. The touch, no matter how gentle, set his nerves buzzing, his spine stiffening. Grimmjow said, "Does my opinion matter?"

Ichigo's lips turned up into a tiny smile. "Maybe."

"I hated you at first; you were strong, I didn't even realize how strong, and you threw me around like you were toying with me. Took me awhile to see it for what it was."

"What do you mean?" Ichigo asked.

"Never really smiled much, but you smiled at me...respected me...fuck, I'm not gonna go on about this stupid shit, but," he swiped his hand over his face, "I mattered to you for a long time, didn't I? Even before you really trusted me."

"I used you, I was desperate," Ichigo said.

"Whatever," Grimmjow grumbled. "You made me strong, but it'll never be enough, will it?"

"Back to this," Ichigo murmured.

"Yeah, can't get away from it, Kurosaki." Ichigo felt Grimmjow's head jerk in Zangetsu's direction, his hollow hovering nearby in a crouch, waiting and watching, a silent guardian beside them. "He knows, I know, but you're a stubborn idiot."

"No," Ichigo argued.

"I'm weak. Pisses me off, but I am."

"Were you really going to leave?" Ichigo asked.

"Earlier? Tsk, no. Just pissed off."

Ichigo knew better; he wasn't angry, he was heartbroken, and playing it off as nothing. He twisted to face him, careful of his horns, and draped his arm over his stomach, his fingers grazing the edge of his hollow hole. Grimmjow's breath hitched, and he lifted his arm, his arrancar's hand curling around his throat. His palm was warm on his throat, tightening when he swallowed.

"Can't hurt you," Grimmjow muttered, "no wonder you let me do that."

Ichigo sucked in a breath through his teeth, his head rolling back like he might be able to see him. He couldn't, all he succeeded in doing was baring his throat. "You think my instincts don't remember what it was like to be weak, to be scared?" Grimmjow tried to pull his hand away, but Ichigo didn't let him, covering his hand with his own. "It's still frightening."

"I couldn't hurt you if I tried," Grimmjow said.

"Maybe," Ichigo said, "but my body doesn't know that. I'm used to being hurt. Do you have any idea how frightening it is to have your teeth on my throat?" No answer, and he didn't expect one. It wasn't like he needed to tell Grimmjow what fear was like. "It's terrifying. Knowing you won't kill me, knowing you can't, doesn't mean much to that little bit of panic."

"Then, why did you let me do it?" Grimmjow asked, his voice unreasonably quiet.

"Because I don't want to be scared, not of you."

Grimmjow scoffed lightly. "Can't even hurt you, you shouldn't be scared."

"I'm trying to talk to you, you dick."

Grimmjow sighed. "Yeah, I know." His fingers slid across his neck, tensing into a claw, pressing up into the soft underside of his jaw. "This scares you?"

Ichigo swallowed and remained still. He knew Grimmjow wouldn't hurt him, couldn't, but his instincts still bristled in unease. Unease, but layered beneath a thrill. He could trust Grimmjow, he could finally let go, and he wanted to, so badly. "Yes."

"Why tolerate it?"

"I said I was afraid...I never said that was all I felt."

For a long moment, Grimmjow said nothing, and when he did, his tone was searching. "You like being vulnerable?"

Ichigo let out a breath, tilting his head to look at Grimmjow's side. "Only to you."

The arrancar stiffened under his hand and said, "Can't say shit like that, Kurosaki."

"Why?"

"Makes me want you."

Oh...made sense. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Grimmjow growled.

"Then stop moping, I don't know what else to say." Grimmjow moved, rolling over to pin Ichigo beneath him. Ichigo looked up into sad, murky blue eyes and started, "I-"

Grimmjow's thumb pressed to his lips, his expression wrinkling into pain. "Don't you dare apologize to me again."

Ichigo frowned up to him. "Then stop making that face."

"There's no face, you're just stupid."

Ichigo rolled his eyes, caught off guard when Grimmjow kissed him. It was slow, cautious, and Ichigo was careful to do nothing but react, never reaching, never taking. A need stirred in his chest, a pressing anxiety, but he didn't indulge it. He focused on staying calm, on the velvet touch of wet lips. He started to breathe a little fast, and his arrancar broke that kiss with a soft exhale, his nose pressed to his cheek. "I know I shouldn't whine at you, but fuck is it not fair. Fuckin' Gods ruin everything."

Ichigo reached for him, tangling his hands in his hair, and made every effort to relax. "Yeah, it isn't fair. When is anything fair?"

"Should complain more, Kurosaki. It's cathartic."

Ichigo made an aggravated sound at the callback. "Fuck you."

Grimmjow leaned back and snorted. "Pff, I wish."

Ichigo stared at him, and Grimmjow stared back. Beneath the banter, his arrancar's heart still ached. "You worry me, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow's face scrunched into a snarl. "Worry about yourself, you crazy fuck."

"Call me crazy and it'll hurt my feelings."

"Fuck off, ya ain't that delicate."

Ichigo smiled sadly and circled back. "Can't tell me not to worry, that's not how that works." The look on Grimmjow's face was all annoyance, but Ichigo wasn't fooled. There was more going on behind those eyes than Grimmjow would ever let on, but the glimpse Ichigo had into his soul only left him confused, so he guessed. "You're bitter."

"Wouldn't you be?" Ichigo looked away and Grimmjow turned his chin back. "Not at you."

Ichigo frowned up at him. "For now." The sudden chime of his ringtone startled then both. Ichigo flinched, reaching to pull the phone from his kosode and read the caller ID. "Kisuke?" It had been awhile since the scientist had reached out to him for anything, it was the last person he expected to hear from.

Answering on the last ring, Ichigo said, "Hey, Kisuke. Been awhile."

"Indeed Kurosaki-san, although I'm not calling for myself. Hold for a moment."

Ichigo heard the rustle of the phone changing hands, then a steady, baritone voice he hadn't heard in months. "Ichigo."

Ichigo sat up, forcing Grimmjow's scowling ass back on his thighs. "Chad?"

"Can we talk? It's important."

The tone he held was one reserved for business. He sounded happy to hear from him, but his voice was lined with uncharacteristic stress. Ichigo shot Grimmjow a look and said, "Yeah, give me a few minutes. I'll be there."

They hung up, leaving Ichigo with an unresolved conversation, a heavy heart, and worry for his friend. Grimmjow looked at him expectantly, and Ichigo answered, "It sounded important."

"We're done anyway," Grimmjow growled. He climbed up off of him and Ichigo felt the irritation tightening his jaw.

Ichigo followed him up, tying his pants with a frustrated scowl and a stiff jerk of his wrist to tighten the knot. "We're not."

"Whatever." Again with these stupid mood swings. Grimmjow's heart ached, so he brushed it off with anger, his first instinct to isolate himself. Fuck that.

The arrancar still wouldn't look at him. Ichigo grit his teeth and gripped his shoulder, spinning his conduit around to face him. He fisted his hands in his jacket, pushing them both through la sangre. He was tired of softness, of flowers.

He threw him back hard into a stone wall, crushing their lips together. Grimmjow's hands found his waist, and Ichigo bristled, grabbing his wrists to pin them against the wall along with the rest of him. Ichigo's voice was low against his lips, breath hot between them. "Don't walk away from me if you don't mean it."

Grimmjow snarled, "I do that all the time."

Ichigo dropped his voice and hissed, "So stop. Makes me want to hurt you."

"You wanna hurt me anyway, so what?"

The ache in his jaw to bite was so strong, Ichigo swayed back. His teeth itched to sink into the soul before him, to smother his life and take it, keep it, consume it. He bit down on his forearm instead, squeezing his eyes shut to focus on the thrum of life around him. This was Karakura. He knew these souls, he knew Grimmjow, so relax.

Ichigo wasn't sure when he let Grimmjow go, but he felt his hands, tentative on his head. His arrancar pulled him in close, wrapping his arms around him to pull him into an awkward embrace against his chest. It was an intense, confusing desire, to want to relax and retaliate, all at once. His conduit was quiet, holding him for several moments before he dared to speak again. "You're really holding back."

Ichigo grunted in agreement, prying his own teeth from his arm with a grimace. "What was your first clue?"

Grimmjow fisted his hand in Ichigo's hair and pulled, wrenching his head back to see his face. Eyes locked on his lips, Grimmjow spoke absently. "You drew blood." Tempting fate, he dipped down to lick it from his lips. His tongue was warm, dragging a wet line along the curve of his lower lip, following it to the downward turn of his mouth.

"Stupid," Ichigo hissed.

"Your chaperone isn't here," Grimmjow said. As if that was permission enough to provoke. "You taste good, you know that?"

Ichigo made a chiding sound, tilting his head back and away as Grimmjow kissed and licked at the blood on his lips. "Doesn't mean much coming from a cannibal."

Grimmjow growled back a word layered like an insult. "God-eater." Ichigo stiffened, turning his head away. Grimmjow let Ichigo put a stop to that kiss with a low laugh. "You taste pure, Kurosaki."

"I don't know what that means. I ain't pure."

Grimmjow smiled. "You're not. You taste like life, souls, power." He tilted his head, debating stealing another kiss, so Ichigo braced a hand on Grimmjow's chest, physically holding back that thought. "Does it make you feel better to know I wanna eat you?"

"In a sexy way?" Ichigo asked.

Grimmjow scoffed, leaning back against the wall. "Yeah, Kurosaki, that too."

Ichigo thought about it. It felt fair, in a way; justified. "A little."

"I'll take it." Grimmjow prompted changed the subject. "We in Karakura?"

Ichigo blinked, impressed he'd noticed where they were. He didn't think Grimmjow was stupid, but the arrancar persistently surprised him. Distracted, frustrated, threatened, even aroused, and he was still acutely aware of his surroundings. It only made him more desirable. "Yes, Chad sounded concerned."

"Yet you brought me here and kissed me."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, feeling defensive. "I did."

"Why here?"

"Just wanted a reminder of what else I had to lose." Of what tied him to humanity that seemed to slip further and further away. He ran his forearm across his mouth but he wasn't sure what it solved. He looked back at Grimmjow. "I can't show up on Kisuke's doorstep bloody."

"You have before."

"Didn't have a choice."

The arrancar lifted his thumb to his mouth and rubbed away any evidence, his fingers brushing his cheek when he was done, tracing the dark swath of the markings striping his face. "Could have just used la sangre."

"Didn't want to."

"Why, just to make me do it?"

"Maybe," Ichigo said.

"Lazy bitch."

Ichigo gave him a dry look, taking a slight step back. It was hard to step away from something he wanted; From something the God's wanted. So much of that was due to user error. If he could focus on something else for half a second maybe he could separate that things he wanted from impulses that weren't his own, but these sensations were brand new, he had nothing to compare against, no memory of who he was for reference, and it bothered him.

What was a kiss even supposed to be like? He didn't think this was right, but it felt right.

Grimmjow pushed off the wall and took a purposeful step towards him. Ichigo took a step back.

That drew a thoughtful scowl across Grimmjow's face, throwing his hands into his pockets for lack of anything to do with them. "Relax, Kurosaki, I'm not doing anything." And that was a damn shame.

Ichigo reached for him, and Grimmjow watched steadily as he raked his hand through his hair, pushing back loose strands and bringing some order back to the mess he'd made. Ichigo pulled a blade of grass and a crushed flower from blue locks and gave his handiwork a once over. "Good enough."

Grimmjow raised a brow. "Just good enough? Savage."

"Very handsome. Feel better?"

The arrancar flashed his teeth in a smile. "Never called me handsome before."

Ichigo was teasing, but it was true. Grimmjow had a rugged, sharp appeal he liked, but he wasn't going to give him any more of an ego over it. "Where's my compliment?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Grimmjow's voice held the same teasing edge, but it was rooted in a heavy reality. He was still there, despite all his shit and problems; he fought him, talked back, argued and whined, and it was the biggest compliment he could get from Grimmjow. Words weren't their strong suit, but actions meant everything.

"We should go," Ichigo said.

Something too stifling to be disappointment hung over them both. Ichigo didn't like knowing that despite Grimmjow standing less than a foot away, he was still somewhat out of reach.

It was a bone deep ache, a chasm of loneliness he couldn't seem to breach. No matter how hard he fought to free himself from it, he kept getting pushed further and further away. He knew Grimmjow felt it, he couldn't hide sadness like that from him, but neither had any idea how to fix it.

Fix, like some broken thing. The idea didn't sit well with him, not with Grimmjow's eyes locked on his own, so he looked away, and for that moment, Grimmjow pretended not to notice. He let him hide.

Ichigo held out a hand to Grimmjow and without hesitation, he took it. They could moan over semantics, but he intended to stay.

Pulling them both through la sangre and into Kisuke's courtyard, Ichigo dropped Grimmjow's hand. The arrancar took up a familiar spot beside him, just to his left. It was a both a thoughtful and cautious place to stand; it left Ichigo open to draw without gutting him and kept him in his peripheral.

Chad followed Kisuke from the shop, and while seeing Chad was something frequent, he hadn't seen Kisuke since the night he'd woken up, stuck like this. Kisuke's eyes raked over him, appraising, then flicked to Grimmjow. The shopkeeper saw a lot, Ichigo couldn't be sure what he guessed, but he didn't think he or Grimmjow were good enough liars to hide from him; Kisuke was merely kind enough to pretend he didn't notice. "Looking good, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo scoffed. "Don't lie to my face."

"Tsk, I lie to you all the time," Kisuke said.

"Yeah, but at least try." Ichigo looked away from Kisuke to Chad, offering his friend a stiff smile. "I wish I was here under better circumstances."

The smile Chad gave him was wide, stepping up to him to put a hand on his shoulder. "The circumstances could be better, but it's always good to see you, Ichigo." His hand was warm and heavy on his shoulder, oddly comforting, when normally he shied away from touch. He didn't feel the urge to devour his friend, not by the spurring of any God.

With his attention focused so intensely on his own reactions, it honestly surprised him the urge wasn't there. It was an odd feeling. Chad wasn't a conduit, but something about him was noticeably displaced from the world he stood in, and he'd never noticed before.

Grimmjow noticed his quick acceptance of Chad's touch, the change in him was nearly instantaneous. He wouldn't have ever pegged the arrancar as jealous, but that wound was still too raw and his jealousy was tempered by Alteza.

Grimmjow moved, but Ichigo was faster, always faster.

Before Grimmjow could get his hands around Chad's neck, Ichigo had them both at far end of the courtyard, throwing Grimmjow face down into the ground. He twisted one arm firmly between Grimmjow's shoulders, his foot grinding his half drawn blade into concrete.

Snarling like a trapped animal, Grimmjow screamed obscenities and insults, fixating his rage on Chad, but he wasn't the source, just an easy target.

Chad looked as surprised as Kisuke, the shopkeeper looking between the three of them with raised brows, before admitting, "I feel like I've missed something."

It was hard to hear his voice over the racket Grimmjow was making, but Ichigo worked it out. "It's complicated," Ichigo called back.

Despite knowing exactly what was going through Grimmjow's mind, Ichigo was pissed off too. He reminded himself it wasn't entirely Grimmjow's fault, but the desire to hurt him, punish him, was still present. He raised a hand to someone he cared for, and regardless of the reason why, it made him angry.

Leaning down, Ichigo hissed, "Cease, or so help me, Grimmjow, I will shatter your arm."

To his credit, Grimmjow stopped squirming to free himself and snarled his insults at him instead. "Go fuck yourself."

Ichigo leaned down even closer, pressing his knee between his shoulder blades and leaned in so close his breath tickled the nape of his neck. Curse the Gods, he wanted to bite him, dig trenches in the muscles bunched beneath him in rage. He hissed, "Just because I can stop you doesn't mean I'll tolerate you raising a hand to the people I care about. Do it again, and I will hurt you."

For a few seconds, Grimmjow just breathed, his lungs struggling to expand under his weight. "He-"

"I don't give a shit what your excuses are. This is your only warning."

Grimmjow sagged into the pavement, the sharp edge of defeat ringing in his soul. Grimmjow felt he'd lost more than a fight, and Ichigo couldn't be sure how to fix it.

Climbing up off his arrancar, Zangetsu muttered, "What a fuckin' mess."

Ichigo climbed up off of him and let him stand, humiliation shadowing the arrancar's eyes. Ichigo couldn't fix that with an apology or some words, Grimmjow's access to his soul had fucked up any hope of that. One little touch was enough to rub in his face the things he couldn't have. And Ichigo had nothing more to say.

Turning back to Chad, Ichigo crossed back over to him, Grimmjow trailing behind him like a scorned cat.

Chad started, "I didn't mean to offend-"

"You didn't do anything," Ichigo cut him off. "Just forget about it." That wasn't going to happen, but he wasn't going to drag all his problems into the light with an audience. The wary look Kisuke was giving him was bad enough.

Filing away the knowledge he'd just gained, Ichigo asked, "What did you ask me here for?"

Cursing how accusatory he sounded, Chad pretended not to notice, and if his feelings were hurt, he didn't show it. "I met some people recently. People like me."

Ichigo blinked at him, trying to reason what that meant. Grimmjow grumbled, "Big and tall?"

Chad elaborated. "Fullbringers."

Ichigo's eyes widened in understanding. He didn't know the word, but it carried with it a mountain of implications. "Fullbringers? There are others like you?"

A small smile graced Chad's face, something he tried to hide and failed. "Yes." Ichigo recognized that look, he'd felt the same fluttering feeling of kinship before. It was nice to know you weren't alone; he missed that feeling. But he'd killed his predecessors, that feeling wasn't for him.

Chad shook his head and changed the subject. "But I didn't ask you here to talk about me. They've noticed something, and I think it's best that you talk to them personally."

"Noticed something?"

"They can explain it better than I can. I didn't see it, but it involves the shinigami."

Ichigo's interest piqued. "Elaborate."

The glance Chad shared with Kisuke was proof enough they had already spoken, and if Kisuke was silent, then he'd confronted something he had little expertise about. Ichigo tried not to jump to conclusions, but his gut told him this was far from coincidence.

Chad said, "A Fullbringer saw a shinigami...killed, but they can't be sure what killed him."

Ichigo stilled, his stomach churning in concern. "When?"

"Yesterday."

That couldn't be right. Ichigo cast out his senses, delving into Sunyaya's power with little regard for consequence. Any rage or anxiety he felt was sapped away by the cold indifference of entropy. Ichigo turned his thoughts inwards. 'I didn't sense death, how is that possible?' Eyes unfocused on the souls burning at the edge of his consciousness, he noticed there were less.

His shinigami were being hunted.

In his arrogance he thought he would feel a threat, and he'd been wrong. Instead, he'd been distracted, looking in the wrong place; he should have considered a thing that knew his name, knew him, might hunt in the city he once called home.

"Do not blame yourself for this, Ichigo."

'He slipped beneath my notice. The signs were there, I'm just stupid.'

"This is an unknown threat, Ichigo, and a delicate game with rules we don't yet understand. This was a misstep, learn from it. This is knowledge you didn't have before. Use it."

Ossan was right. This thing was lying low, which meant it was weak. Not so weak it wouldn't gloat to his face, but it couldn't challenge him yet, it was hunting stragglers, coasting beneath his notice.

Someone called his name, he wasn't sure who, but when he refocused before him, he noticed both Chad and Kisuke were a few paces back, and Grimmjow was almost directly before him, stepping into sight. Disagreement or not, Ichigo appreciated the gesture. Chad and Kisuke were afraid, putting himself between them was a bit of a diffuser. Grimmjow asked, "What do you sense?"

"It's what I didn't sense. Their souls are gone, I didn't feel them die, and I don't feel their death." His voice sounded flat, even to him. Sunyata fucked his emotions, he knew that, but what he was feeling wasn't rage, it was too cold.

Sunyata was paying attention; it Looked through him, and now it was a part of his hunt. It couldn't have Grimmjow, it couldn't have the Gotei 13, but it could reject this, this threat.

The worry in his arrancar tripled, and despite his posture and expression remaining the same, Ichigo saw a look in his eyes he'd once thought was pity. Grimmjow asked, "You in there, Kurosaki?"

"Mostly." The knee-jerk reaction to eliminate this threat only intensified, and he knew that wasn't him. He shoved at Sunyata, but it clung to the core of his soul like taffy, and there was no true alternative. The Gods were restless; there was a wolf among their flock and its teeth were soaked with blood.

Ichigo raised a hand to his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "They're...needy." Even with Sunyata at his fingertips, Alteza howled and die Konigin screamed. For once, amongst all the chaos, the Gods shared a target, and it was nauseating.

Kisuke spoke, "What set them off."

Ichigo rubbed his temple. "Knowledge. The thing hunting the shinigami is a threat, to all of them, but their awareness is limited to my own."

Ichigo turned the subject away from him, uninterested in lingering on things he couldn't change. "These Fullbringers have powers like yours?"

"Yes," Chad answered.

"Good, then they'll be easy to find."

Kisuke straightened, curious. "You're notoriously bad at finding people, Kurosaki-san. Would you mind elaborating?"

Eyes slipping to Grimmjow, Ichigo chose his words carefully. "The Gods aren't interested in Chad, I never noticed before, because I never thought to look." He tilted his head. "That's not true. Out of respect to you, I never tried to reach deeper in your soul.

Chad's brows raised. "What do you mean, Interested?"

"You're different," Ichigo said. "You're not a child of die Konigin, Sunyata, or even Alteza...I admit I never gave it much thought. You power is hollowlike in nature, but ultimately, it exists outside of my control. I'm not sure what you are."

Kisuke looked offended, and much more infested in the conversation than Chad. He eyed the fullbringer with a sharp light he often reserved for mischief. "And you never told me?"

Uncertain under this new attention, Chad fidgeted, and took a step away from the shopkeeper, asking Ichigo. "What does that mean for me?"

Ichigo paused and admitted, "I really don't know, Chad. I might have more of an answer if I meet other fullbringers." The tension in the giant's shoulders led Ichigo to realize the source of Chad's concern.

Chad had always had faith in him, but this version of himself, influenced by power forced onto him, he didn't trust. If Sunyata wasn't hanging around him so thickly the air shimmered like crystal, he might have felt bad about it. But he felt nothing. "I won't hurt them."

Chad nodded, but it was hesitant, unconvinced.

"Thanks for asking me here, Chad." It wasn't a calculated risk, his friend wasn't like that. Chad was involving him out of respect for their friendship, nothing more and nothing less.

Ichigo dragged him and Grimmjow away through la sangre, pulling Rukia to him in the process, regardless of what she was doing. They stood now in a residential district in an alley, Rukia mid bite through instant noodles. She paused, disoriented, found Ichigo's gaze, and shouted, "You left me!"

"We were busy!" Grimmjow snapped.

"I was bored!" She blinked, her annoyance crumbling as she took in Ichigo's expression. "What happened?"

Ichigo sighed. "Eat your noodles, I'll catch you up to speed."

- xxx -

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

Blue eyes scanned the rooftops, empty streets, and saw no one, sensing nothing but the dusty hum of unfamiliar reiatsu. "Someone's watching us," Grimmjow rumbled.

"Very astute," Kurosaki said blithely.

Grimmjow swiveled to face him. "Don't you care?"

"It's annoying, but if it makes them feel better…" Kurosaki shrugged it off, his attention still locked elsewhere, on ungrateful fuckin' shinigami, with a godlike level of surveillance that required him to use Sunyata. That fucking bitch of a God that flatlined everything about Kurosaki he loved.

He hated it, and Kurosaki knew it, so the demigod wouldn't look at him, wouldn't acknowledge the soft breaking of a fresh promise. Rukia didn't notice their tension, she was focused on other issues. She had eaten her noodles with distracted perseverance, and now she sat, scrunched up on the curb in thought. "Did you call me here to watch me?"

Without moving from his spot against the wall, Kurosaki's eyes slid to her, brows creasing. "I might have."

"You're worried."

"...Yeah." Kurosaki folded his arms, a weird mannerism, given how much it restricted movement. This wasn't a nervous or defensive gesture, he was holding back.

The hybrid felt guilty, that's for fuckin' sure, and Grimmjow wasn't sure how to change his mind. Did it hurt that Kurosaki's friend happened to be one of the people he didn't want to devour? Did it feel unfair that he couldn't be that person? Hell yes it did. But he'd carry on anyway.

He stared long enough that Kurosaki began to notice. The hybrid's eyes fell to his lips, brows creasing in distress, even with his shallow grip on Sunyata.

Grimmjow was seconds away from saying something when a man strolled up to them from the end of the street. He wasn't a soul, and he wasn't some random human. He could see them, that was certain, but whatever power he had was masked. Black hair was slicked back from his face, but some strands had come free, falling into his face in a look that reminded him too much of Aizen. He already hated him.

The man walked from a cloud of warm afternoon light into shadow and stopped. A band of light cut between the buildings and obscured the man from his night sight, but that wouldn't bother Kurosaki, and Grimmjow bitterly hoped this stranger didn't know that. He was still pissed and resentful and if he couldn't take it out on Kurosaki's friend, he'd take it out on this stranger.

The man called out. "Are you Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Kurosaki made a sound of agreement, but didn't leave his place against the wall. Rukia straightened and called back. "Who's asking?"

The man shifted his weight, his feet square beneath his shoulders. Rukia tensed along with Grimmjow, both anticipating a fight. The man didn't answer their question. "Thought Kurosaki Ichigo was a substitute shinigami. You look like an arrancar."

Grimmjow tightened his hands into fists. "And you look like a prick."

"Wasn't talking to you, arrancar."

The insult layered in that word pissed Grimmjow off. "Answer," he called back.

The man was silent, and Rukia slowly lifted her hand to rest on the hilt of her sword. The man smiled, flashing white teeth and raised his hands, the picture of nonchalant innocence. "No need for violence." He let his arms fall, his center of gravity still poised to defend or attack, it could go either way. "Call me Kugo."

Rukia's brows furrowed in recognition, her hand tightening on the hilt. Kurosaki separated himself from the wall and reminded her. "We're not here to fight, Rukia."

"I'm not going to talk to her," Kugo said.

"Why not?" Kurosaki asked.

"Don't like shinigami," Kugo responded. His tone was light, but there was a weight in his words Grimmjow could pinpoint and recognize. He honestly felt the same way, which only served to piss him off. Seemed shinigami weren't much liked by anyone.

Kurosaki took a couple of steps to stand beside Rukia, reaching for her shoulder. Grimmjow half expected her to jump at his touch, but she eased into it, brows drawn tight into feigned annoyance. Her hand fled the hilt like she'd been caught and she let out a tense breath in a rush. "Fine, but I'm only moving out of earshot."

Kurosaki's hand briefly rested on her shoulder, then he stepped around her. "Thanks, Rukia." He dropped his voice, but Grimmjow could still hear. "Sorry this is such a mess."

Rukia glanced to Grimmjow, of all people, bit her lip and hissed, "Fool." In a blur of shunpo, she was safely out of earshot, directly on the building above them.

"Him too," Kugo said, jerking his head towards Rukia's new perch. Grimmjow ground his teeth, taking that to be even more of an insult than it was probably meant to be. All these barriers between him and what he wanted, and this asshole was going to add one more?

"No," said Kurosaki. "He stays."

Grimmjow looked to him in surprise. All it cost him for this conversation was a sliver of Grimmjow's pride, but he wasn't willing to concede, no matter how foolish it might be. It felt good to be chosen, even over something trite.

Kugo's was voice thick with derision. "I don't care much for arrancar either, you see."

"I don't give a damn," Kurosaki said. "It isn't up for negotiation."

"Then maybe our meeting was premature." Kugo reached for his neck, and from the metallic glint, he was fingering a necklace. "Maybe a few more shinigami need to die."

Kurosaki's shoulders tightened at the threat, his voice low enough Grimmjow knew Kugo would need to strain to hear it. "I've been polite, Kugo, more than I think you deserve out of respect for Chad, but I'm in no mood for threats. Do you want to talk, or not?"

Grimmjow couldn't make out Kugo's expression, but he hoped he was annoyed. The man finally shrugged and asked, "What do you know about fullbringers?"

"Assume I know nothing," Kurosaki said.

The man twisted his necklace in his fingers, dropped it, then crossed through the band of light to stand at a more reasonable speaking distance. He wasn't close, but he didn't look like he trusted them worth a damn either. The man explained, "There's a soul in all things, fullbringers can manipulate the soul that resides in physical matter."

Kurosaki seemed unsettled by that information. The hybrid didn't let it show, but Grimmjow felt the twist of surprise.

Grimmjow asked, "So what the fuck does that have to do with a shinigami dyin' on your turf?"

Dark eyes slid to him, not altogether fond of acknowledging him. "The way he died is relevant."

"Explain," Kurosaki said.

"Should I?" Of course the fucker wouldn't give it to them for free.

"What do you want?" Kurosaki demanded. Grimmjow looked at him, wondering if he couldn't just take what he wanted, or if he was making an effort not to. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

"Just confirmation." The man tried to keep the interest from his voice, but he failed. "Was Seireitei destroyed?"

After a moment to contemplate the truth, Kurosaki said, "It's gone.

Sharp satisfaction sharpened the stranger's features, a small smile quirking his lips in sadistic glee that could only come from someone seeking vengeance. Grimmjow knew that smile, it burned like acid in his gut when he'd first seen the damage done. "They say you did it," Kugo said.

"They?" Kurosaki asked.

"Shinigami. The damage done to Karakura turned some heads. So did you do it?"

"No."

Kugo's intensity burned off at that answer, asking, "Where's the guy that did it?"

Grimmjow growled, "It ain't an interrogation."

Foiling his desire to give this asshole nothing, Kurosaki answered, "I killed him."

Kugo shrugged. "That's a pity. Would'a been nice to meet face to face."

Kurosaki took a step forward, and to Grimmjow's satisfaction, Kugo took a small step back. Kurosaki's voice was calm, steady, but Grimmjow heard the undercurrent of violence just as much as Kugo. "Now isn't a good time. I don't know what you want from me, but you're not going to find it. Talk, or I'm leaving."

Kugo pushed his hair back from his face and turned to walk away. "Take it down a notch, I ain't interested in a fight."

"Where the fuck you goin'?" Grimmjow snapped.

Kugo paused, looking back. "Relax. Thought you'd wanna see the body."

"You kept the body?" Kurosaki asked.

"What was I supposed to do, leave him in the street?"

Grimmjow didn't think his so called charity had anything to do with goodwill, but at the moment he had no reason to fear him. Kugo moved away again and Kurosaki followed, throwing a gesture to 'stay put' up at Rukia. Grimmjow was surprised that Kugo turned his back to them when he was already so cautious, but the feeling of being watched hadn't dissipated, so it wasn't a stretch to think someone was watching his back for him.

The man led them only a single street over, to a building that seemed from the outside to be abandoned. He took out a small black card, swiping it in on a keypad by a thick steel door. There was a soft mechanical click and he swung open the door into a dimly lit room.

He stepped in, gesturing for them to go ahead. Kurosaki didn't hesitate, but he had absolutely nothing to fear from these people. It went against Grimmjow's nature to blindly follow a potential threat directly into their shitty lair, but his pride didn't let him reconsider following.

It seemed like some sort of bar or lounge, populated by a stoic, older bartender, and what looked to be a kid hunched over a game. Neither felt particularly powerful, but Grimmjow kept his guard up anyway.

The kid didn't even look up from his game and the bartender carried on as if they weren't even there. Rude, to be so confident they wouldn't even acknowledge strangers.

"Nice clubhouse," Grimmjow muttered. "I half expected a 'no shinigami allowed' sign."

Kugo gave him a sour look, but it was the kid that spoke. "Your sense of humor is just as bad as your style."

"What was that?" Grimmjow snapped.

"You're not even wearing a shirt," Kugo said.

Kurosaki grabbed his arm before he could cero his smug fucking face and said, "Just take us to the body."

Kugo' eyes went from Grimmjow's hand, to Kurosaki, and said, "If you break my bar, you buy it."

"Good luck collecting payment," Kurosaki said dryly.

Kugo's brows shot up. "So you do have a personality."

The look Kurosaki shot Kugo was nothing but pissed, but Grimmjow knew that remark struck a little too close to the mark. The arrancar said, "You heard him, show him the body, or I'm gonna start breaking shit."

"Control your arrancar," Kugo said, tone dropping in condescension.

Kurosaki let go of Grimmjow's wrist, which was more of a statement than if he'd spoken. "He's not a pet," he said, yet the look he shot Grimmjow was weary. Fine, he wouldn't cero the bar. He'd wait until they got what they needed.

The fullbringer voiced his disapproval with a hiss of air sucked between clenched teeth. He turned to cross to the back of the bar without any further preamble, and Kurosaki followed closely behind him.

They were brought to a back room, the shinigami laying across two tables that had been shoved together. Grimmjow didn't know him, but from the subtle tension in Kurosaki, the hybrid did. There was no panic in his heart, this wasn't a lost friend, but he did recognize him.

There wasn't a mark on the shinigami; it just seemed he was asleep, but he was too still, too silent. It creeped Grimmjow out.

Kurosaki stepped up to the table, reaching out to touch the shinigami on the arm. It might seem like a tender gesture from the outside, but Grimmjow knew better, it was as calculated as they came, and Kurosaki's emotions were far from reach.

Without removing his hand, Kurosaki frowned to Kugo. "He's alive."

Kugo frowned back, just as confused as Grimmjow was by that statement. "I think I know a dead body when I see it."

"Look at him," Kurosaki insisted. "This is wrong."

"I see a dead body," Kugo reiterated.

The hybrid frowned down at the shinigami, his grip on his wrist tightening. His voice was soft enough that Grimmjow didn't think Kugo could hear him from the door. "You don't see…"

Sensing the heightening doubt in the hybrid, Grimmjow was worried he was on the edge of mania. He offered, "Creeps me the fuck out, but I dunno why."

"His soul is gone," Kurosaki said. "This isn't supposed to happen." He dropped his hand, and looked back to Kugo. "This is what you wanted me to see?"

"Apparently. A fullbringer manipulates soul, it's in everything; people are the obvious offenders, but soul is in the ground, this building, the air...The area he was found was devoid of soul. It was barren. Whatever killed him did something I've never seen before."

Kurosaki watched Kugo strangely, a shock of cold fear in the hybrid's heart startling Grimmjow. Kurosaki was afraid? Grimmjow sensed he knew more than he was letting on, but he didn't trust Kugo, not by a long shot. "Show me a fullbring," Kurosaki demanded.

Kugo's suspicion skyrocketed at the demand. He tensed, shifting his weight defensively, and said, "You've seen Chad's, many times. Why mine?"

"I've only seen Chad's," Kurosaki said, "I need to see another."

"If I refuse?"

Grimmjow expected violence, but it was still a shock to blink, and find Kurosaki was across the room, slamming Kugo into the wall. The drywall cracked under he weight, a long, double edged sword suddenly barred between them, held to Kurosaki's throat.

The hybrid was still afraid, but it had nothing to do with Kugo. Removing his hand from the fullbringer's chest, Kurosaki ignored the sword at his neck and stepped back. "I have what I need. I'm taking the body." It wasn't a request, and enemy or no, Kurosaki usually left the illusion of choice. For some reason that mentality didn't extend to this situation. Grimmjow had to wonder why.

Kugo's skin shone with nervous sweat, letting go of a stilted exhaled as he straightened from the wall. The two fullbringers beyond the door had stopped moving, all of their attention on Kurosaki.

In an attempt to swing back control, Kugo snapped, "Take him. As if I need a body rotting in my bar."

Kurosaki stared at Kugo with such intensity and stillness, the fullbringer began to fidget. Not even Grimmjow could read the thoughts behind those eyes, and he remembered how deeply unsettling it was to be the center of such focus.

For Grimmjow, it was a pleasant thrill to have the full attention of someone he desperately loved, be it negative or not. But for a stranger, they might not know if they were going to make it out from beneath that gaze alive.

Whatever Kurosaki was looking for, he either found it, or gave up, because he turned to the body on the table. Kugo visibly relaxed, his brows drawn tight. Dark eyes lingered on vulnerabilities, and while the fullbringer couldn't harm Kurosaki, it pissed off Grimmjow enough that he stepped between them.

Instead of sending the body through la sangre, Kurosaki bent and picked him up, bridal style. Something about that struck a chord of deep sadness in the hybrid, but he buried it well. He turned and warned, "I'll be back, Kugo."

"I'm not looking forward to it," Kugo said.

In a curtain of dark, they were suddenly standing at the top of the same building they'd left Rukia on. She immediately stood, then her eyes fell to the shinigami in his arms. Her jaw tightened, filling in the blanks with information and preconceptions even Grimmjow didn't think he had.

"Kugo didn't kill him." Kurosaki felt the urge to defend Kugo, and Grimmjow couldn't fathom why.

"Not this time," she said. There was an accusation there steeped in distaste.

"You know him?" Kurosaki asked.

"He killed shinigami, he stole their powers."

"Like I stole yours," Kurosaki answered bitterly.

She flinched, and Grimmjow felt he was missing some history.

"Stop talking over my head," Grimmjow growled.

"There's nothing to tell," Kurosaki said. "I don't trust the word of Seireitei." His eyes fell to Rukia. "And neither should you."

"It won't be a problem," Rukia answered, voice clipped. "Seireitei is gone."

"Their secrets and lies aren't," Kurosaki said. He sounded annoyed, even watered down by Sunyata. Before Rukia could start an argument, he said, "I'm sending you back to Soul Society." The tone of his voice was a touch different, he wasn't talking to her as a friend, but something else.

Setting the shinigami down on the ground, Kurosaki's eyes lingered on the body, unsettled. "I'd bring him back myself, but I don't want to leave my family unprotected."

Whatever argument Rukia had been preparing died in her throat, real concern darkening her expression. "You think they're at risk?" Which explained why he would send Rukia away. She was his friend, but his family always came first.

Kurosaki said, "It was naive to think they wouldn't be. My father is strong, but this is something else entirely."

Rukia looked down at the shinigami and let out a slow breath, her demeanor shifting ever so slightly. Her shoulders squared and she looked back to Kurosaki. "What do I tell the Soutaichou? How did he die?"

Kurosaki was quiet, and not for a lack of an answer. He was hiding something from them, he was choosing his words carefully. A terrible liar, bit it was still a lie. He said, "Inoue was killed outside of this world, outside all of them. She's never coming back." His gaze fell on the shinigami. "Neither is he."

"But he was killed here, in Karakura."

"And the result is the same. He doesn't exist, this body is like a ghost. An empty imprint."

Understanding hit Grimmjow and Rukia at the same time. This thing was beyond dangerous. If getting caught by this thing meant true death, no reincarnation, no afterlife, just poof...it was no wonder Kurosaki was refusing to leave Karakura. A dead shinigami on his doorstep was as good as a threat.

Now Grimmjow understood Kurosaki's dissociation. This could have been a friend, a sister, a father. The hybrid wasn't just annoyed, he was fucking pissed. But he was also scared.

Called itself Shinigami...for the first time, grimmjow thought he might fear death. A sudden stop, one that could come anytime, from anywhere. This thing could move from Soul Society to Living World. That must mean it could move to Hueco Mundo as well. No one was safe.

"You still can't track this fucker?" Grimmjow asked.

The look Kurosaki gave him said it all, Sunyata or not. "I can't sense anything." Which meant the Fullbringers were their best shot.

Kurosaki turned to Rukia and asked, "Ready?"

Some of her mask slipped and she gave him a look full of support and concern. It was a look Grimmjow had only been on the receiving end once in this life, and he finally understood the desperation people would go to to have it. She said, "Good luck, Ichigo. Be careful."

His expression softened, even if he didn't manage a smile. "I'll try." The light bent and shimmered in a beautiful kaleidoscope of color, and they were sent away, off to Soul Society.

"I hate being ignorant," Kurosaki muttered.

"What weren't you teling Kugo?" Grimmjow amended that statement. "What aren't you telling me?"

Kurosaki scoffed, "Kind of ruins a secret if I tell you, doesn't it?" Grimmjow opened his mouth to argue, but Kurosaki cut him off. "I wish I didn't know, I won't burden you with it too." From his tone, it wasn't a topic he was willing to indulge or argue.

The hybrid turned to face him, his face falling in distress now that they were alone. "I'm being used." He bared his teeth in a need for violence so strong, Grimmjow took a step back. "I hate being manipulated."

"Kurosaki…" Grimmjow didn't really know what to say. He hated it too, but he wasn't sure what to do about this. He was delegated to standing there, a useless prop. He couldn't barely even touch Kurosaki, his presence was just hollow comfort at best.

Kurosaki let go of Sunyata, seizing die Konigin. He saw the flare in his eyes, he heard the screams through the reverberation in Kurosaki's soul. Letting out a slow, calming breath, Kurosaki spoke, his voice on unsteady ground. "I'm scared for my family. It knows me, it knows I'll protect them. It picked off stranglers I wouldn't notice, then came straight here, straight to Karakura. It's getting what it wants; unprotected prey." Panic slipped into his voice unbidden. "I can't protect everyone, I can't."

Grimmjow reached for him without thought, gripping his hair in his hands. "Hey." He got his attention, golden eyes locked on his own. Kurosaki looked at him. Not through him, beyond or between. He looked. "You could never protect everyone, that's not on you. You try, Kurosaki, more than you fuckin' should. You know how I feel about it, I don't think you owe them shit, who cares what you are? It ain't your responsibility. Your responsibility is to yourself."

"I have the ability to help, I should–"

"Says who?"

"No one else will do it. No one else can."

"Arrogant," Grimmjow hissed, his hands tightening in Kurosaki's hair.

Kurosaki smiled at the insult, a self deprecating smile. "Yeah...arrogant."

Grimmjow was struck with the thought that he should say something. He loved him, through and through, but saying it was so hard. So he said nothing, but he didn't think he had to. Kurosaki knew now. Untwining his hands from his hair, Grimmjow rested his palm against the side of Kurosaki's neck. So tense, so anxious, so fearful. Someone so strong should be above that, yet he felt it more than ever. What a fucking idiot. Grimmjow said, "You gonna bring that Kugo bastard to us?"

Kurosaki smiled. "How did you know?"

"You're in a mood."

The smile that lit up his face was off, teetering too closely to violence. "Yeah," he said, "I think I am."

He yanked Kugo through die Konigin with no regard to consequence. Kugo staggered, doubling over to rest his palms on his knees. Grimmjow took a swift step back right as he threw up. He had the forethought to catch his necklace before he puked on it, but he wasn't gonna be in good shape for awhile.

Kurosaki pat his back, and it was far from friendly. "It'll pass. I have some questions for you, Kugo."

-xxx-