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☽*. ⋆ Ichigo Kurosaki ⋆ .*☾
(31st October.)
Ichigo squinted as he turned a sharp corner out onto the main street ahead. The awkward dying rays of light temporarily invaded his vision as the sun began to dip into the depths of the horizon. Sight clearing again, he saw the muted tones of his home closing in up ahead.
Two girls abruptly ran from his side and skipped eagerly over towards their front door.
The three of them had just accomplished a rather successful, almost-too-early, round of trick or treating. Karin had been very insistent that they "get all that good crap early". Ichigo had only rolled his eyes in exasperation yet begrudgingly agreed.
Even though he had been seriously starting to consider if they weren't getting a little too old for it all, one look at Yuzu's sweet adoring—knowingly manipulative—face and he’d caved. It helped that she at least looked around 12 years old still, despite being the twin of a 15 year old. Who horrifyingly could pass for far older these days.
Having finally reached their home with bags of said 'good crap', the girls darted inside as Ichigo stood in the doorway; adoringly watching as his sisters bounced towards the plush family sofa. Karin flopped down with maximum smugness, sharing a small bundle of gifted cash and change with her sister. Yuzu was somehow already well on her way to creating neat little organised piles of candy; sorted by type, colour, and personal favourites for each person. She had even set aside piles for himself and their father.
He sighed. I wish they could just stay like this forever. Stupid ageing. Dumbass time.
"Oi, you gonna stand in the door like that til we all freeze to death; or til your face sticks looking that dumb forever?" Karin snapped him out of his musings, amusement laced in her tone.
"Yeah, Ichi-nii, you're letting all the cold in, come sit! We still have movies you can watch with us?" His lips tilted into a rare soft smile at her offer.
"Thanks, you two, but I think I'm in the mood to walk around some more.. I'm gonna head past Uraharas for a bit too." Ichigo admitted reluctantly at the end. He knew he had been going there an ever-increasing amount lately and he knew they had noticed. He waved as he quickly turned to make his leave, eager to avoid any emotional probing.
As he reached to pull the door closed behind him, he stilled. Tiny giggles and whispers reached his ears. Suspicious irritation caused his eyes to narrow through the remaining foot-wide length of open doorway. "What.”
"Oh nothing, Ichi-nii," Ichigo's irritation rose further at Karin's saccharine sweet response. "We were just saying how nice it is that you have such good ‘friends’ at the Shoten. We wouldn't want you to get lonely.. or feel blue."
"Why you littl—"
"Karin! Don't make him face his deeply repressed love if he isn't ready!" Yuzu Interrupted.
Ichigo felt heat rush to his now shock-slackened face.
"Yuzu! You too?!" He huffed, running hands against his warming skin, his outrage seemingly being brushed away. Somewhat. He did not have the energy for denial this late in the day. "Whatever. I'm off, see you both later."
With a final reluctant wave he closed the door. Far softer than he would have liked to mind you, and whilst doing his utmost to ignore the increasing howls of laughter that became muffled by the now closed wooden entrance.
And so began his wandering journey of solitude through the darkening alleys of his town. He pulled his coat around him tighter then sighed. Puffs of breath warmed air swirled out of him in a mixture of exhaustion and sullen acceptance. I can't even be annoyed at them for joking about it anymore, after all it's all true isn't it?
Ichigo often felt almost a sense of shame towards his feelings. Surprisingly not at who the feelings were for—Though many would likely say I should be ashamed of that part. That blue-haired asshole was.. well.. an asshole. And violent. And harsh. And brash. Oftentimes cruel and so. fucking. stubborn. But strong too. And passionate. And intelligent. And powerful. And so damn breathtaking it hurts to be physically near him. And fuck— I am so in love with him.
That there was where his shame lay. In that sheer dumb intensity of his feelings, even despite how hopeless he knew it was. He couldn't stay away though. His heart was such a damn masochist for that asshole.
He supposed there was a chance; a tiny, almost invisible possibility, that his feelings were not as unrequited as he was so certain they were. It just felt so impossible to him when Grimmjow seemed so vast. His presence was overwhelming. Sometimes he felt miniscule underneath that cerulean-gaze, often he even felt uplifted—empowered by it—yet still, he always felt so out of reach for Ichigo.
Over a year had passed since the Quincy war had ended, and Grimmjow and Ichigo had spent almost every other day together since. Either recovering, or sparring, or verbally sparring or more recently, shockingly, simply relaxing together while enjoying each other's quiet company. Throughout all of that he had quickly discovered just how much there was to Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. He was so much more than merely a hollow or tool of war, and he was absolutely certain that he still had a heart. He caught glimpses of it so often now. Even though Grimm always tries to be as frustratingly subtle about it as possible.
Ichigo smiled brightly, his footfalls stumbling ever so slightly on the pavement. He remembered—with extreme warmth—witnessing Grimm slyly steal handfuls of Yuzu's favourite sweets from Urahara's stock room a couple months ago. He’d been taken aback, more than a little Intrigued, so Ichigo had followed discreetly as Grimm had snuck out the store. He had known by that point that Grimm was very much capable of selfless acts, however it was still incredibly rare to actually witness one first hand. So Ichigo had not been able to help himself.
Mid-step Ichigo broke out into a bark of sudden laughter—likely looking certifiably insane to everybody else currently on the street—as he recalled the rest of that day. After silently trailing Grimmjow to Ichigo's very home, he’d watched as the sky-haired idiot realised that the house was, of course, locked. Ichigo still swears he had almost heard Grimm’s mental lil’ blue gears turning, pondering how to get his secret gift inside without negating the whole secret part of it all.
His resulting idea had been the most hilarious, most adorable—most Grimmjow thing—that had ever been lucky enough to witness. He had watched as Grimm snuck round the walls, till fierce determined eyes met Yuzu’s bedroom window and assessed the small ventilation gap in the semi-open though still very much locked glass panels.Then carefully he had taken each individual sweet—and for some still unknown reason practically cradled each one as if it had been porcelain—and deposited them deftly, one-by-one through the tiny opening. Ichigo had burst out, howling with laughter by the end of it all, unwillingly revealing himself. After a startled almost-bashful-turned-fiery-fury glare from Grimmjow, Ichigo had been effectively and quite literally beaten to a bloody pulp in the resulting sparring match. It was so worth it.
Ichigo exhaled deeply, finally pulling himself out of his musings as he continued to stroll down the deep winding alleys of Karakura. He tried to keep a leisurely pace, attempting to enjoy what he knew would certainly be a fleeting moment of solitude and calm. Yet his feet soon betrayed him and he ended up walking with haste in spite of himself; closer and closer to what he was constantly drawn to these days. Before he knew it Ichigo was face-to-door with the entrance of the Shoten.
☽*. ⋆ Grimmjow Jaegerjaques ⋆ .*☾
“I would very much appreciate it if you could create your.. artwork.. using materials that are not otherwise in use.” Kisuke pleaded with clear, visible exasperation. Something which had once been a rare sight to behold yet was now irreversibly etched into the increasing lines of his face; ever since a certain arrancar had been taken into their family of misfits and oddlings.
Atlantic eyes glanced upwards. Grimmjow's hands paused, sharp clawing nails hovering over the deep gauges within the oak table beneath them. He snarled at his definitely-not-father-figure but reluctantly withdrew his hands anyway. The crude carving of Pantera getting a brutal stab right through Kurosaki's clavicle, Zangetsu angled for retribution, was now sitting upon the wooden surface, glaring back at him almost tauntingly. Pfft. Typical. Even drawings of our fights get interrupted.
“Whatever.” Grimmjow huffed, slouching. Some might call it brooding but he was not brooding. In fact he was actually being incredibly well-behaved in his opinion. He could have been tearing everyones throats out right now, yet here he was, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, god damnned ex-sexta, fucking doodling instead. He grunted. He should feel outraged, trapped, pathetic. However these days those harsher tendencies and urges had become so faint.
The shocking part to him was just how much he didn't care about becoming.. not duller.. and definitely not fucking soft.. but maybe more self-controlled. He could redirect his sharp edges now. And strangely enough most of the time he actually wanted to do so. He had found over the past year that when he was more careful with his more violent aspects, he could be closer to gentler things. Precious things.
Don't get him wrong, he could still get fucking furious. Like right now for instance. Just because he could bring himself to stop decorating the family coffee table with borderline pornography, doesn't mean Kurosaki won't still be skewered like a gory game of Kerplunk when he shows his face.
Grimmjow grinned, slow but manically. Yes, just because the thought of killing Ichigo made his chest convulse these days, doesn't mean he won’t thoroughly enjoy making that god damn gorgeous face bleed.
A lengthy drawn out sigh sounded beside him. A fan fluttered over a face filled with an odd mixture of exhaustion, a glint of excitement and.. was that fondness? Urgh gross. “I take it from that expression that you and Kurosaki-kun will be requiring full use of the training grounds this evening?” Kisuke questioned expectantly.
“Fuck yes.” Grimmjow replied eagerly whilst his eyes took on a glow of indecipherable emotion. He was gonna show that oranged-headed asshole what happens to those that tease him. His anger swelled up again at the reminder. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, visualising calming thoughts.
Tessai had taught him the technique but he would throw himself on his own damn zanpakuto before he ever revealed what thoughts—fantasies—actually soothed him. He drew in a full breath once more; heavy lids closing in focus.
Deep earth swollen eyes beamed into his own. Hair the shade of bright autumn leaves fell over lightly freckled skin. He brushed the strands aside with a level of gentleness that he desperately shielded. As his fingers grazed a devastatingly soft cheek, warm skin beneath shifted. A breathtaking smile broke out across the other's face. Grimmjow's chest ached. How the hell can somebody look like that? That smile alone could save the three worlds all over again. The edges of Grimmjow's lips tilted upwards into the softest expression his face has ever achieved, reverently offering his rarest of smiles in return.
His anger drained. Calm took over his being—
“Yo! The girls finished trick or treating early so thought I'd stop by for the rest of the night if that's cool?” A frustratingly addictive voice called out and Grimmjow's eyes snapped open.
Socked feet pitter-pattered softly towards the table's edge as the very star of his relaxing exercises entered the room, and ironically, refuelled his anger to the brim. Grimmjow's nails dug back into the oak below. He's not even sorry. How dare he.
“Of course Kurosaki-kun! You are always we-”
“Where. The. Fuck. have you been?!” Grimmjow interrupted brashly, leaning over towards Ichigo. Ice blue shot harsh glares in an futile attempt to melt those stupid-damn-beautiful chocolate irises. “You're late.” He hissed darkly.
“What the hell are you on about?!” Ichigo leaned backwards, his expression was confused before his brows furrowed and his eyes sharpened with indignation. The red-heads face blushed ever so faintly. Damn he looks good like that.
“How can I be late when I never even made plans to be here tonight asshole?!” Ichigo pushed back into Grimm’s personal space, stubbornly giving back all he got.
“Your fog horn of a spiritual pressure is basically a god damn walking RSVP Kurosaki.” He shoved Ichigo roughly. This damn idiot. “I felt you heading this way like 40 minutes ago and I know damn well it only takes 20 tops in your stupid meat suit. You kept taking dumbass diversions, wiggling all over the fucking place. Teasing me.” Grimmjow's tone turned deadly towards the end.
Ichigo's face in response was such an endearing mixture of pure bewilderment and intense irritation that he almost lost all his anger all over again; however this time he held it tight. He needed this fight tonight.
He felt pathetic but he longed for this idiot, his idiot, in any way he could get him. He wasn't as emotionally-stunted as everyone seemed to think he was. Sure he ran from his feelings, often, but he at least made an effort to know what he was running from. So over the past few months he had very begrudgingly come to accept that he does in fact love this dumbass. That was where the problem lay though. He loved him too much to say anything. For once in his hollow existence somebody else's well-being took priority, and he knew that finding out an ex-monster was in love with you would be a heavy burden to carry. And Ichigo, he didn't deserve any more weight on those shoulders.
Two sets of eyes filled equally with unrestrained intensity gazed for a moment longer before Ichigo steeled his expression and opened his mouth to make a snappy retort.
Except before a single decibel could escape his mouth a very familiar feminine voice made a sudden and very un-familiar sound.
All prior bickering was cut short. All heads in the room turned to stare wide-eyed as Yoruichi practically fell into the room. The ghost of a bitter metallic twang hit the back of Grimmjow's throat when he took a shock-sharpened intake of iron filled air.
Darkened semi-clotted blood weeped from heavy gashes scattered all over her deep toned skin. Some fresher wounds were dripping like a dropped pin in the silence of the stunned room.
The un-familiar sound broke the atmosphere once more. Screaming cries and sobs left Yoruichi, even as she stumbled to the ground. She looked inconsolable and far more emotionally damaged than physically. Grimmjow and Ichigo stood frozen to their core. I have never seen her shed even a tear before.
☽*. ⋆ Ichigo Kurosaki ⋆ .*☾
Ichigo didn't know how to react. The sight before him was so alien, the only body part that seemed to comply with his urgent need to move were his eyes as they roamed the crumpled pile of one of the strongest people he has ever known.
Another sob seemed to metaphorically shake the room, enough that the paralysing atmosphere shattered. Within a blink both himself and Grimmjow were by her side. What the fuck could have done this to her? Ichigo gritted his teeth, his mind supplied him with far too many unhelpful and ultimately horrifying answers to that question.
“What the hell happened?! Are you okay?? Shit sorry. Of course you're not.” He mentally slapped himself. He didn't know how to help with this. The critical damage seemed to be emotional and the only defence Ichigo knew against that was either running like hell or burying the problems in a mental grave deep deep inside and skipping out on the funeral. I really need a therapist.
Shaking himself back to the problem at hand, he resolved himself to at least treat what he knew how to. Long legs stubbornly stood whilst he turned to go find medical supplies, or maybe see if Tessai was around. Damn, maybe he should call Orihime. Can she reject emotional trauma? Now that would be fucking usefull.
As he turned he came to an abrupt stop. Grimmjow sat almost protectively beside Yoruichi. He was vibrating with restraint, and a vengeful glint in his eyes. Eyes that seemed to be harshly directed at—
Mirthy chuckles escaped said target of Grimmjow's glare. “Oh my, it seems like it got you pretty good this year Yu-chan~” Urahara practically sang, the edges of a well-entertained grin surpassing the borders of that damn fan.
Okay just what was happening? Ichigo was beyond confused. His stomach churned uncomfortably. Was emotional motion sickness a thing? Because he was pretty sure he had it. Seriously, what th-
“The fuck is going?!” Grimmjow helpfully finished his mental plea, with a roar that quite literally did shake the room this time. He watched as Grimm rushed across the small room and pinned Urahara to the wall. A fist shaking in its grip on a now-crumbled green collar. “Now, now, Grim-kun,” Threads and cotton creaked. “There is no need to worry, Yoruichi will be fine. She was a very consensual and willing participant.” A feral growl followed that statement.
“I do not think phrasing it that way is helpful to the confusion at hand Kisuke.” Tessai’s voice suddenly filled the room. Ichigo and Grimm turned their heads harshly once more. A sharp twinge pulled on his neck. Great. Now I have emotional and actual whiplash, he thought bitterly. “He is correct however. There is no need for concern. This is a yearly tradition that Yoruichi has happily enjoyed for decades now.”
Ichigo and Grimmjow watched as Tessai helped to lift the now silent form from the floor. Looking still awful but drastically better already. The sight caused something to drain from Ichigo. Seemingly from Grimm too, if his now lax hand and utterly bewildered, and utterly adorable, expression on his face was anything to go by. Still though. The confusion was overwhelming.
“Wait- Wha- Tradition?!” Ichigo questioned.
“Happily?!” Grimmjow followed.
“Decades?!” They both exclaimed at the same time.
“Why Yes!” Urahara readily supplied with far too much cheer. “Think of it as our yearly Halloween challenge! And despite her poor state, Miss Yoruichi here has actually succeeded this year very well! Congratulations dear!~”
Yoruichi, now standing with ease without any aid, narrowed her golden eyes. Despite the dried salt ridden tracks down her cheeks, she gradually raised her arm towards the hat-clogged man and showed him a very specific finger. Then, astonishingly, she had simply sauntered—albeit wobbly—out of the room.
This served to further rack Ichigo’s aching brain with confusion. He felt like he was going to have a haemorrhage. He didn't think his neurons were supposed to fire so quickly. He turned his glance to see if Grimmjow was still suffering along with him but saw that all prior confusion, concern, or even anger had been completely replaced with pure eagerness. Ichigo simply rolled his eyes. He knew exactly which word from Urahara’s last sentence had wiped his brain like an etch-a-sketch.
“Challenge?” The level of pure excitement in Grimm’s voice made his heart rhythm do stupid little twirls. Ichigo could almost see the faint outline of his resurrection’s ears perking with sudden interest. Ichigo was rudely broken out of his fawning by Urahara's very bemused tone.
“I know what you are thinking Grimmjow, but this tradition is closer to a brutal and bloody training exercise than a fun activity. I really would highly recommend against participating.” Urahara took a pointed look between them. “Either of you.”
Oh god damnit—Ichigo internally exclaimed—He just had to go and say that. Urgh. He straightened up, attempting to mentally prepare himself for what he just knew he was going to be dragged into.
☽*. ⋆ Grimmjow Jaegerjaques ⋆ .*☾
(The training grounds.)
HA!
Did Kisuke really think he wouldn't jump down the blood drenched throat of such an opportunity? Pfft. I mean really. Training? Brutal? Potentially blood filled challenges? AND his never-gonna-admit-it-outloud-but-basically-parental-figure doesn't want him to do it? fucking sold.
“So what, it’s just like a haunted house ride or something?” Ichigo spoke from beside him, directing questions at Kisuke’s reluctant, yet somehow also eager explanation. But Grimmjow wasn't paying attention. He bounced on the heels of his feet with restlessness. He didn’t want a fucking verbal instruction manual for the damn thing he just wanted to go inside already. And win.
A sharp but also oddly smooth elbow poked into his side. He withheld a yelp and turned a glare onto the orange-headed-dumbass beside him. “The fuck?”
“Pay attention!” Said dumbass whisper-hissed back at him. “I'm only doing this if we both know the hell what to do. I've had far too much confusion today already.”
“Tch, whatever.” Grimmjow supplied grumpily but he did try to listen from then on. He wasn't afraid to do it alone or anything, but the only way his okay-maybe-kinda-parental-figure would agree to let him do this was if his personal ginger idiot was doing it alongside him. And since that just meant Ichigo was added into an already awesome equation that didn't seem like too bad a compromise to Grimmjow. After all: Blood Challenges Kurosaki = A great fucking time.
“Hm.” Kisuke Hmmed. “Yes! Well.. Yes If those rides also included pain, terror, disablement and potential torture!” Ichigo started looking vaguely horrified but of course Grimmjow was only spurred on further.
“Awesome! So like those extreme scare houses? I could win those easily.” Grimmjow replied, nodding his head adamantly and still very much hyped up.
"You don't win them— wait, how the hell do you even know what they are?!"
"Pfft, the internet exists Kurosaki." he rolled his eyes then paused. He smirked, thrilled at such a golden opportunity. "And i know you know it exists too, Mr.. shatteringfate15"
Ichigo paled.
Grimmjow could practically see all his little thoughts twisting themselves in knots trying to do a mental hopscotch between utter panic and fury.
"What! How did you find— what the FUCK Grimmjow." He glared furiously at him even as his face reddened from more than just rage. He looked delicious."Are you stalking me online now too?!"
"Oh my, what a username~ What is that for Kurosaki-kun? Secrect Pornhu—"
"NO. no. It's nothing." Ichigo interrupted sternly, quickly shutting that line of thought down and nailing it shut. Grimmjow could feel his glares, just daring him to reveal anything further.
A tense almost palpable silence saturated the open space.
“...”
..he just couldn't help himself.
"It's his secret poetry blog!" Grimmjow blurted out, looking uncharacteristically anxious about the impending doom that he knew would be coming but filled with glee nonetheless.
"GRIMMJOW JAEGERJAQUES.” Kurosaki’s voice echoed throughout the grounds. His voice tinged with a dual tone. The taste of his otherness, his darker self, filled the air. Grimmjow's chest heaved. Ichigo was so close now, leant into him while his harsh breaths of fury puffed against his skin. He was so fucking powerful. So god damn beautiful. All of him.
”I. will. kill. you." Ichigo breathed the words almost silently into the remaining space between them. Grimmjow grinned violently.
"Can’t wait baby." He tried to say it with glee, he really did, but the words tumbled out as an too-soft awed murmur. The sound of such gentle awe coming from him must have shaken something in his darkened-ginger, as the gold laced eyes continued to stare with wrath but the edges were softened now. Softened with such a deep look of something that Grimmjow genuinely thought he must have been doing his calming exercises again for a moment.
“Ahem.” Kisuke snapped them back from their haze.
“Anywhoo!~ You see this was originally developed as a very literal training exercise for the Onmitsukidō. Hence why it has been somewhat of a tradition for myself and Yoruichi for many decades now. I just ~spookify~ it slightly for the festive season!” Kisuke stated as if nothing had just transpired. As if the foundations of his damn soul had not just been rearranged by that one look from Kurosaki.
What did that look mean? He wondered; feeling as if he was a thousand dimensions away from his body still.
“..Spookify..” The ginger next to him mumbled, utterly bewildered. His brain cells had clearly not returned yet either.
“Mhhm! So! There are three rooms in total. Each one is based on one of your personal fears; as assessed and generated by your reiatsu upon entry. Since you will be participating together the rooms will alternate. Ichigo, the first room will be yours and after will be yours Grimmjow. The third and final room will be randomly generated to keep things fair.”
Urahara had paused, seemingly checking to make sure everything was being absorbed. How he was content with what he saw, despite surely witnessing only a single brain cell bouncing back and forth between the two dumbfounded idiots Grimmjow would never know. He simply looked pleased and continued anyway.
”All you have to do is verbalise certain things out loud and you instantly move onto the next room. This is designed to force entrants to face, accept and process their most impactful fears, quickly and efficiently. As such this will not be a puzzle, you will likely know the answer you need to say right away. Saying it is the hard battle of this exercise. In fact each room will even state the actual fear on which it is based. So no guessing needed. All you are required to do is state why you fear it.” Urahara paused once more “However. You must be willing to admit these reasons quickly. If you do not state your answer after 5 minutes the room will begin to harm you in varying, potentially traumatising, and definitely lethal ways.”
The only words his brain processed from that clusterfuck were ‘not puzzle’ and ‘hard battle’. So he felt prepared enough. The last sentence however seemed to make him do a mental rewind noise. Beside him Ichigo had seemed stuck on the trauma and pain part, but Grimmjow had other urgent thoughts that required answers. “Wait a damn sec. 5 minutes per room? So it only took 15 minutes inside this thing to reduce Yoruichi to THAT?”
“Well no.” More obnoxious fan sounds grated against his remaining last knackered nerve. “As you know she is the queen of speed!~ Yoruichi only spent an average of 2 minutes in each room this year. So it would be more accurate to say that 6 minutes inside ‘this thing’ reduced her to that.”
“Holy shit..” Ichigo breathed.
“Tch. I can beat that.” Grimmjow responded stubbornly. Mentally shoving down the slight twinge of hesitance he was feeling.
Whatever, it was likely just jumpscares and weird ass creepy shit that Kisuke had come up with. Sure the thought of any invention from that clogged-pain-in-the-ass was horrific, but only in a scary film kinda way. Besides, if for some reason something was “too scary” to admit outloud, he could just punch whatever the hell it was to death. Sorted. Perfect plan. Tch, and Kisuke thinks he’s the genius around here.
He turned eagerly then; towards the “Portal Of Fear”, as they had been shown when first arriving in the bunker earlier. It looked like some shitty frankensteined puddle floating in the air with some decrepit looking creaky-ass-cobwebbed-door within the outlines of the vague blob. It was almost like Kisuke had somehow managed to convince a senkaimon and a garganta to bang, birth a bastard child, and have said offspring develop a goth phase. Knowing him that probably was how he made this thing. Gross. Dude has weird fetishes.
Before Kurosaki could get his knickers all twisted—he quickly brushed aside the sudden and wanted-but-not-right-now image of Ichigo in baby blue lace lingerie—he grabbed his arm roughly, yet still with more care than he could grant any other person, dead or alive, and yanked him spluttering backwards towards said “portal”.
“Oh boys!~ One last thing to note,”
“Urgh, get on with it already!” Grimmjow snapped, out of eagerness and definitely not out of suppressed nerves.
“Every year we do this challenge we assign a different overall theme, this narrows down what types of fears of yours are able to generate.”
Azure eyes rolled. Like he gave a crap about themes. He turned, about to jump into the floating blob, but the red-head tightened a grip on his wrist, preventing him.
Earthy eyes focused intently on Kisuke. “What is the ‘theme’ Urahara?” Ichigo asked with no small amount of suspicion.
Apparently rightly so because an oh-no-that-never-means-anything-good grin began to split the very edges of the other man's face. His head tilted up, fan suddenly nowhere in sight, and eyes fully visible in all their bad-intended glory.
“Animotophobia.” Kisuke stated Ominously “The fear of one's own emotions.”
Oh shit. Was the last comprehensible thought Grimmjow's brain could muster before a flash of a suddenly very-much-okay physically and even-better-than-okay emotionally, purple haired traitor, appeared in front of them both. Golden eyes blazed with feline-mirth as they were both kicked fast and hard into the portal, falling towards their emotionally-themed-nightmares.
☽*. ⋆ Ichigo Kurosaki ⋆ .*☾
God fucking damn it.
He knew, he fucking knew this was going to be another twisted scheme. When has anything ever gone any differently? When has Urahara ever planned something not at Ichigo's own expense? I am going to kill those conniving pricks when I get out of this damn thing.
Ichigo threaded his hands throughout his hair and grasped at sunset strands desperately as if they were the last strands of his fraying sanity.
He looked over at Grimm. Damn. He looked like his brain had just been stuck between fight or flight, but without anything to fight but possible emotions, and nowhere to run to, his mental capacities seemed to have imploded in on themselves.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.” Ichigo winced at the infuriated screech. “That bastard! Emotions? Emotions?! How the hell do I punch my way out of a feeling Kurosaki?!”
Normally he would have found his ferally flustered state hilarious, maybe endearing, but Ichigo felt far too mildly terrified at the notion of what he may be forced to face to even process that sentiment. And it will all be with Grimm as a witness. Crap.
“Okay, it’s okay—”
“It aint fucking okay dipshit! We are trapped in a feelings box!” He yelled, blue orbs wild as the look of an impending storm at sea brewed inside them.
“I know that Grimm! Shit— We need to calm down.”
Ichigo glanced around trying to orient himself but they were surrounded by white endlessness. Only a strange sensation of what direction he should walk towards being any indicator of a way forward. It wasn't too unlike navigating through a garganta when he thought about it. Steeling his resolve he stomped in the direction that felt correct.
“Look, the first room will be mine, so just follow me and.. chill while i.. face an emotion?” Uncertainty mixed with slight squeamishness broke through in his voice.
Quick petulant footfalls seemed to follow behind him. He heard bitter mutterings but couldn't make out what Grimm was saying and honestly he didn't have the brain capacity to try.
Out of complete-god-damned-nowhere, things appeared around them. Lots of things. Full fresh trees lined their horizon, the smell of pine needles and sap saturated the air, and was that water he heard?
Spinning around Ichigo took in an unexpected but beautifully welcome sight. A tranquil lake sat in front of them. At his feet lay a cream cotton blanket, on top of which plates of seemingly delicious fresh fruits and soft, fluffy, sandwiches were arranged. His mouth watered despite himself but he was pulled out of his daze by a snort and rather sarcastic chuckle behind him.
“I knew you were fucked up Ichi but this is something else.” Making his blood pressure stay within an healthy range after hearing Grimm’s pet name for him was nigh impossible. Not now stupid heart.
“The hell do you mean? This place is amazing” He replied flustered and also slightly offended.
“Exactly. Yet this is supposed to be what you fear right? So the hell do you have to fear about pretty lakes and a good-ass-looking picnic?”
He was right. This was supposed to be terrifying for him wasn't it? How messed up was it that he apparently feared.. what.. safety? No, that didn't feel right. It was a calmer sensation in this place than just feeling safe. Too calm actually. It made him feel on edge all of a sudden. Oh. that's right, this anxiety, this is how I feel when I am at-
“Peace.” Ichigo heard the other state. He glanced downwards towards Grimm’s boot as It nudged the blankets edge. Clear sky blue threads were embroidered into the large fluid shapes of those 5 letters, spreading across the corner of the fabric.”Tch. Cliche hero complex’d moron.” he heard muttered.
“OI! Fuck you!” Ichigo yelled and shoved Grimm roughly. He stumbled backwards and unfortunately across the spread of delicious foods. A freshly fruit covered arrancar growled deep. Ichigo tensed, however before he could receive what he was sure would have been a brutal retaliation, a sharp sound like thousands of panels of glass smashing all at once reverberated throughout the area.
“Ah shit.” Grimmjow stated as he lifted to inspect his now blood smeared hand, beneath which Ichigo noticed spiderwebbed cracks that trailed out across the entire landscape.
The cracks continued to spread whilst his eyes traced the path of crystalline splits straight up. Loud snaps increased in volume as his eyes searched the distance above them. A soft glistening approached. Rain? No. Shit. He leapt and pushed himself over Grimmjow as a very large, very glass-like, shard of the fucking sky smashed into the ground beside them. Smaller fragments rebounded and sliced into his side.
They groaned, their injuries were thankfully not bad but annoying and painful. That could get much worse soon though, Ichigo could make out larger shards about to drop and the ground underneath them both looked like they had just fallen through a damn window display.
“Hurry up and admit why you are scared of picnics, asshole!”
“It's not picnics, you even read out—” He seethed but cut himself off. This is not the time for arguing. Grimm’s right, I need to get us the hell out. Peace, okay, peace. Why do I fear peace? This is so dumb.
The sound of another crack made them both flinch simultaneously. Ichigo felt his brain go blank from sudden panic, then blurted out the words seemingly before his mind could even think of them. “Because peace is fragile!”
The shards stopped falling. Frozen and floating in mid air. They were surrounded all around them by soft glitterings. It created a sight that could be beautiful, almost romantic even, if not for the sheer alarm and feeling of emotional pressure he was experiencing right now.
He yelped, a sharp bite to his forearm brought him back to the present. “Keep going dickwad” right.
He took a pained breath and did a mental grab for the closest thought he could find and vomited the words right out once again.
“I'm scared to feel peace, because it's fragile and I think, I know, I will be the one to end up breaking it.. and sometimes I think I want to.” The words just slipped out but they felt true anyway.
Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, he didn't realise how much that thought, that fear, had actually been weighing on him before. Maybe there was actually a meaningful point to this twisted thing? Before Ichigo could process that further the room shifted and without warning they were surrounded by complete darkness.
☽*. ⋆ Grimmjow Jaegerjaques ⋆ .*☾
Nothing.
He was surrounded by absolute dark nothingness. It felt painfully endless and claustrophobic at the same time. It was hollow. Empty. He hated feeling empty. But he didn't fear emptiness, it was excruciating for him, the weight of nothing always somehow felt infinite, but it fueled him. It's what drove him to survive, and in some sick way he cherished it. So what the hell was the fear?
Abruptly, blazing white flashed, filling and draining the room of light repeatedly. They strobed over and over till his retinas burned. There was some kind of shape to the lights but they were too blinding to focus on. Instead he searched for orange.
Sudden desperation permeated him when he realised he couldn't feel him nearby. He couldn't feel anything nearby.
“Kurosaki!” He yelled out but his voice died and fell flat. The words were muffled the second they had left his lips, as if he was screaming into a gag, yet there was nothing covering his mouth. Nothing was around him. So much nothing.
Then he saw him, Ichigo's face flashed into view, only a few feet away, relief flooded and then abruptly gushed right back out of him as the lights shut off completely before he could reach him.
As he stood there, breathing harshly, he noticed he could now make out the shape from the lights moments before; the afterimage was deeply seared into his vision. A single word that floated like an omen across his sight; ‘Alone.’
☽*. ⋆ Ichigo Kurosaki ⋆ .*☾
He was very confused. And yeah okay he would admit it, he was damn scared.
When they had fallen into the room everything was black, dark and void. Ichigo could thankfully see Grimm somewhat, almost as if he was glowing in the darkness. It was strange but he felt something in him ease at the sight.
Until he caught the pure panic in his eyes and that alarmed him. He had seen Grimmjow be many things over the years, but very rarely, has he ever seen fear like that in him. He didn't understand, it was just a dark room. He couldn't be scared of the dark. He lived in hueco mundo for fucks sake.
The strobe lights kicked in. It fucking hurt. And he was disoriented as all hell, but still, it wasn't anything that Ichigo would have thought Grimm would consider scary by any measure. Yet through the flashes he only saw that fear increase. Then he heard it. Grimmjow yelled his name with such raw desperation he felt his heart shatter just a little. Fuck. I never want to hear Grimm sound like that ever again.
He quickly moved towards him as best he could, their eyes met and then the darkness was back, yet thankfully, Grimm still appeared visible.
“Hey, I'm over here Grimm.'' Ichigo called over, trying to sound both loud and gentle. He didn't react. Shining blue irises looked around blindly, desperate again. It was like he couldn't hear him, or even see him. He had a churning in his gut when he realised that Grimmjow had closed his eyes. He knew that focused look, he was using his pesquisa. Trying to find him. And it looked like he couldn't.
With a start Ichigo noticed the now fading afterimage from the strobes; It hung and danced over his eyes. He only managed to glimpse it briefly before his sight recovered, but he saw the word anyway. ‘Alone’. Ichigo really did feel his heart shatter then.
He heard harsh pounding footsteps as a manic fear fueled Grimmjow paced back and forth. He didn't know what to do. Maybe he can feel my touch? He reached his hand outwards when he got close enough, yet when soft fingertips met even softer skin, an overwhelming, indescribable weight saturated the room. They were forced to crouch down low, yelling in agony. It felt like every ounce of matter was being simultaneously pulled from the room and pushed on top of their bodies. The sound of vast nothing screamed against his eardrums.
He felt warmth as it trickled through the hands clasped over his ears. Ichigo faintly heard whispers he thought, but at that point it was just as likely that his last thread of sanity had finally snapped.
Then, without warning, the sound, the pressure, the nothingness, it all stopped. All Ichigo heard before being hurtled into the proceeding final room was the penetrating, far rougher than usual, voice of Grimmjow.
“—’cause It gets too loud when I'm alone..” A reluctant, utterly exhausted sigh sounded. “Cause It's too easy to get lost inside all the fucking voices."
☽*. ⋆ Grimmjow Jaegerjaques ⋆ .*☾
Fuuckk. He lent upwards from the ground in wherever-the-hell-they-were-now, and held his own head tightly as the world's most dickish migraine seeped away.
That was awful. He is so going to mince his most-definitely-not-father-figure into tiny tiny pieces and feed clogged-ass-stew to the whole god damn family. And I bet it would still taste better than any monstrous concoctions he ever cooked.
Although, and he would never admit it to another, he did feel somewhat better having said all that outloud. Maybe the stupid feelings challenge really did do something useful after all? At least Kisuke had the decency to make it so they couldn't hear each other back there. Having the singular person I have ever dared to love actually hear me say the words ‘I'm scared of feeling alone’ would be mortifying.
Grimmjow chuckled to himself, he realised he sounded somewhat deranged but also amused and relieved and—
Why is Ichigo acting all shifty? He's not making eye contact. What the fuck. is that pity?! Grimmjow seethed. But then he breathed. Flashes of freckled smiles broke through the smog of his rage. No. He knew better now. Kurosaki had never pitied him. He's only ever sympathised. But why is he looking that sympathetic?
“Ichi..” he began. He hoped that if his answer was what he was dreading it would be, that maybe he could at least even things out by flustering him with that name and tone.
☽*. ⋆ Ichigo Kurosaki ⋆ .*☾
He felt a reluctant heat rush to his face. Damn. It's so not fair when he uses my name like that, and in that voice. Urgh. His sanity had been absolutely shredded since arriving at the Shoten, the useless tatters blown away into the ether, never to be seen again. Grimmjow seriously had no idea just how close he was too pressing him up against the nearest surface and-
“Did you er.. hear what I said in that last room?“ He mentally brushed away his fantasies like unwanted cobwebs.
Except they were wanted weren't they. So instead Ichigo collected the lusty cobwebs and stored them away protectively in his mindscape, like the creepy little dork-in-love that he was. Shit what did Grimm just say? Oh right.
“Yeah.. I did. I tried to call out but.. It didn't seem like you could hear me.”
“Fuck” he heard said softly. Strangely softly.
Concerned, he stopped Grimmjow to look at him. He raised and placed his own hand against his cheek gently without even thinking. Grimm’s face was warmed and reddened, but for once not with anger. Impossibly endless ocean eyes were shining with such intensity, such vulnerability, that Ichigo swore he had just drowned. This is it, there's no coming back from this. After that one ground shattering moment, Ichigo Kurosaki had no hope—nor desire— to ever recover from Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Dammit Grimm, why did you have to look at me like that?
Sad clarity trickled back to him as he remembered why he wouldn't let himself close the distance between them. Why the chance of losing Grimm altogether was far too awful a risk to take.
Ichigo breathed out a jagged breath, somehow finding the willpower left to drop his hand and averted his gaze. “Don't worry about it Grimm. I will forget all about the last room. If you need that. I won't ever mention what I heard”
“Thanks Kurosaki '' It was said so softly. So genuinely, that he almost lost his sanity all over again and finally pressed his lips against him. But he restrained himself. Barely.
“Besides;” Ichigo replied, voice calm despite the tightness in his chest. “I bet this last room will be mine, and i’ll have to say something worse”
He spoke too soon. He really did.
A vague drip-drop-sizzle sounded nearby.
As they turned around he had been expecting something a little more “~spookified~” like bleeding walls maybe? Instead he was bewildered to find them standing in what looked like a photography studio's dark room.
The room was small. Hued in dark red light, and had a long dangling bulb, switched off in the dead centre of the space; a long rusted pull chain was clinking beside it.
It was otherwise almost completely empty except for the source of the drips. Hanging high above them were what appeared to be 1000s of developed photographs hung on twisted up twines of string, completely covering the ceiling. It was too dark to make out the images but inky liquid fell from some of them, dripping to the ground and dissolving deep holes like acid, on impact.
Ichigo tried to jump slightly to make out the images above, looking for the word maybe. He was reluctant to touch anything unless they really needed too.
Grimmjow however had no such reservations, and like the cat drawn to the long dangly string that he was, he pulled on the chain clanking against the bulb.
The light was far brighter than it should have been. Ichigo was growing very tired of his retinas being blasted off into the far reaches of space. All concerns however, over anything that wasn't the photographs above dropped away from him very very quickly when he finally saw the images.
Oh god. No.
As fast as he possibly could he once again threw himself over Grimmjow. Dread flooded his entire system. He felt a block of hard ice clunk to the depths of his gut. His hands were desperately clutching over Grimm's eyes. Please, fuck, i hope he didnt see.
Please please please.
“Oi! The fuck Kurosaki! Quit doing that! Why are you covering my eyes?!” The blue bane of his heart bellowed from underneath his grip.
“Grimm please—” His voice wavered and broke pitifully but the silver lining of his shame was Grimmjow at least stilled beneath him. No further protests were made during the thick pause while he gathered his voice again.
”Please, trust me okay? I really really need you not to see right now. Remember what I promised about the last room? You will pretend to forget anything you hear me say here too, right?”
The only sound in the room was the incessant drip-drop-sizzles and a shuffle of fabric as a dumbfounded nod came from beneath him. “I need you to promise Grimm.”
“I promise Ichi” Ichigo barely withheld the bittersweet sob that bubbled up from his chest that time. He pressed his lips softly against his ear “ Thank you” He whispered as heartfelt as he could manage.
“Keep your eyes closed.” Another shuffle. One last nod.
He slowly removed his hands and pushed himself off with aching, trembling limbs. From the new angle on ground he was belatedly able to make out the pattern that the acidic droplets had torn into the ground.
A self-deprecating, very much unhinged laugh escaped his mouth as he silently read the word that was practically engraved into the floor.
‘Love.’
His laughter unhinged a little further and somewhere in the tatters of his mind he distantly became thankful for the dripping as it covered the sound of his own saline-filled drops; now tumbling from face.
“Kurosaki, snap out of it your freaking me the fuck out here!” The man he was quite possibly about to lose for good snapped at him.
Grimmjow was clearly on his last thread too. I need to do this quickly, shit, if he opens his eyes there's no coming back from this. As if he needed more damn pressure suddenly the sound of acidic rain began to fill the room. More photographs were weeping, their acrid bastardized-rainfall getting closer.
FUCK fuck. fine.
Through silent tears and barely un-broken vocal chords Ichigo just fucking said it. He didn't have anything left in him to refine or even consider his wording. The words were choking him yet at the same time he was absolutely petrified of them leaving the confines of his throat. So he just flung them out of his mouth for the universe to deal with for a god damn change.
“I fear.. love—” He choked in a breath and felt a jolt from the unseeing man beside him. “Because I am fucking terrified of loosing you Grimm. I'm afraid of this love for.. you, because I don't want it to scare you.” He lowered his head between his hands in sullen acceptance and whispered: “..scare you away from me.”
The next few moments awaiting a response, or possibly a runaway arrancar when they could finally leave this hell, were filled with a kind of horror-tainted-anxiety that Ichigo could barely comprehend. He felt numb all over his body. He couldn't tell if his heart was beating far far too quickly or if it simply wasn't beating at all.
“Ahg!” He started when he felt Grimm leap up beside him, grasping at his own forearm out. A forearm that now had a dark ragged hole gauged right the way through. His blood decided to join in with the symphony of drips enveloping them. “That stings like a bitch!”
Ichigo's panic somehow deepens to previously unfelt levels, when he realises the room is not changing. The droplets were still closing in on them.
“What the hell?! I said it! I may have fucking destroyed us but i said it all! Why the FUCK is this piece of shit room still trying to murder us!” Ichigo could only count a couple of times that he had felt such deep, pure rage this distinctly, and all of them had preceded almost world-ending catastrophes. So that really didn't bode well for the situation at hand.
A very long suffering drawn out groan sounded from Grimmjow. When he looked towards him he saw the direction of his gaze. No. no. He was looking upwards at the photos. At the thousands of images that all held Ichigo's most cherished memories of Grimmjow. All their fights. All their jokes, and taunts, and purposefully-accidental close touches, and naps together and oh no. It's all over now isn't it? Will he ever look at me the same again?
“Ichigo Kurosaki” His heart stuttered. Please don't. “You giant. Absolute. Fucking moron! Oh christ I can't even—”
What. That tone was.. fond? Annoyed as fuck but fond. Is he not freaked out? Does that mean he might be able to stand knowing how deep my feelings are after all? His heart hopelessly fluttered.
He wasn't too sure what on earth would happen following that, however what he heard next was at the very bottom of his list of expectations, yet at the very top of his list of wildest dreams. They were standing a few feet apart, separated only by rouge acidic drips, as Grimm spoke.
“It aint stopping because this is my room, my fear, you utter fuck.”
“Wha—”
“Shut the hell up idiot!” Said idiot promptly shut the hell up.
“I fear— Ah bitch!” Grimm swatted at another ink droplet as it rudely interrupted him, then continued in a fast paced but shockingly even tone. “I fear, I have been fearing for possibly years now if I'm being literally forced to be honest with myself.. Urgh.. Love.”
Ichigo felt every atom of his world pause. ..what?
“All because I, Sexta-fucking-Espada,” His arms flew out dramatically, self-depreicatingly. “I have been afraid of how badly, how damn desperately and greedily, I want yours Kurosaki.”
His eyes were burning him. How can blue burn so deeply? Ichigo could barely breathe yet he forced his lungs to do so anyway, he would rather burst his organs from the effort than lose enough breaths to risk missing a single word.
“But I am me,” Grimm continued, his voice soft now, barely a whisper ”A hollow, an only barely ex-monster, and I was afraid creatures like me were not made to be able to receive a love like yours.”
The room melted around them. Quite literally. The walls fell into puddles on the floor, everything else disintegrated leaving behind only the training room, but Ichigo couldn't even begin to focus on details as insignificant as those when faced with the enormity of what he had just heard. He felt fresh tears drip down his face but he didn't have a hope in hell of figuring out what emotions were causing them. Relief? Happiness? Hope? Desperation? Need? Maybe it was all of them.
Grimmjow was breathing ragged but his eyes had not dulled one bit, his gaze not fallen from his for even a split second, even as the room had disintegrated around them. He hadn't run either. He was here. He was right fucking here. Holy shit—
“Ichigo! I swear to fuck, if you don't snap out your dumb little daydream and come kiss me or some gay ass shit right no—”
The sound of Grimm’s becoming-slightly-hysterical ranting was broken by a thumpthwump as Grimmjow's back hit the surface of a hard rock face, closely followed by his own body pressing against him. With tremor filled arms, Ichigo reached. His hands cradled the face of the most breathtaking being he has ever known, delicately in the palms of his hands; staring astonished and utterly reverent towards him.
“Why?” Their lips ever so faintly brushed past each other as Ichigo whispered against them, every nerve ending feeling like a pending explosion and—oh god. Ichigo thought he deserved a damn medal for his restraint at that moment. Just this last question, he had to know for certain.
♡ Artwork By ana-rinray-art ♡
☽*. ⋆ Grimmjow Jaegerjaques ⋆ .*☾
Grimmjow couldn't breathe.
He could barely hold a single thought other than mental pleas of ‘please kiss me please fucking kiss me you asshole’.
All he could see was endless tanned freckled skin. All he could feel was soft sunset strands falling against his own face and the warmth of the long strong body of the man that he had dared to love seeping into his skin. And holy shit, those lips. Fucking kiss me.
“Why what?” He managed to rasp out. He gazed still. Into those eyes that he loves-that-he-hates-that-he-loves and swore that sunlight poured from them, incinerating him soul deep. Burn me Ichigo.
He only realised that he had responded to a question when Ichigo replied back. “Why do you want.. that emotion.. love. From me.. so badly?” Ichigo was pressed so close that he could feel him gulp and tremble slightly against him.
Grimmjow reached his hands upwards, passionately mirroring the gentle hold his sunlight-filled-idiot had on his own face.
“Because,” Unused muscles around his mouth curved his lips gently, purely and honestly, and he finally got to give his softest, most hidden away smile, to the only person who could ever deserve to have it. He heard and felt ichigo's breath hitch almost violently and his lips tilted further. “You know I have always wanted us on equal grounds, Kurosaki.”
There wasn't a single fragment of time between when the last syllable left Grimmjow's mouth and when the softest lips he could ever dream to know pressed against his. The two moments simply merged, time seemed to overlap itself whilst he got absolutely, utterly, lost. He had always hated feeling lost. Yet somehow, that walking-orange-enigma that was busy reconstructing his soul with his lips, has made loosing himself fucking enjoyable.
There were desperate moans of pure, unadulterated relief and triumph and elation; but neither could possibly pinpoint which sound came from who. They were irrevocably entwined. Ichigos hands were in his hair and everything felt so fucking incredible. He felt like he knew absolutely nothing at that moment yet at the same time, as if the whole damn universe finally made sense.
When tongues finally twined together all was lost. The world had been set ablaze around them. At that moment Grimmjow was certain he was kissing the sun itself.
Maybe facing shit was worth it in the end. Maybe being trapped in a god damn feelings box was worth it. Who am I kidding? Of course it was. Fuck anything would be worth it for this. For him.
So maybe, he could forgive his okay-fine-father-figure, just this once.
Plus, y'know what? I definitely fucking won.