Work Text:
They celebrated until late into the night. Truthfully, Ichigo fell asleep very promptly, still exhausted from his fight, and he wasn’t the only one to go to sleep early. But his sisters, Dad, Tatsuki, and the others made a ruckus until late into the night. Truthfully, when Ichigo went to bed, he didn’t know how he was supposed to sleep with the noise, but he’d been so dead tired that he was knocked out completely in an instant. He woke once in the night when his dad and Urahara drunkenly stumbled over each other in the garden, then he slept all the way to morning.
Ichigo still felt drowsy and tired when he stretched and blinked sticky sleep out of his eyes. The sun had already risen, blaring through his window, heating his cushions. Unhappily, he turned to his side, away from the heat.
“Gha!” Kon screamed when Ichigo rolled over the stuffed animal’s leg.
Annoyed and wanting to continue his sleep, Ichigo pulled the lion out from under him and threw Kon against the wall. On the other side of the room, Kon immediately jumped on his cotton feet, raging and insulting Ichigo for his behavior, making it impossible to continue sleeping. Begrudgingly, Ichigo sat up. With Kon yelling at him there was no way he could continue sleeping, so he slowly made his way to the bathroom, stuffing Kon into a drawer on his way, so he wouldn’t wake the whole house.
There were people everywhere. On his way to the bathroom, he wondered if his friends and family had just stumbled over each other and collectively lost consciousness. His dad was sprawled right in the middle of the corridor, with Yuzu drooling on his shirt. Shaking his head, Ichigo climbed over them and closed the door to the bathroom.
Staring into the mirror, he yawned. There were still some bruises from his fight against Yhwach, but he had healed well. With his orange hair sticking in all directions, his eyes still half-closed from sleep and the crumpled old T-shirt he looked more as if he’d survived a long night on a camping trip rather than a battle for the fate of the world and the afterlife.
“Ah,” he groaned as he stretched going all the way to his tiptoes, then he leaned over the sink to wash his face.
“Aaah.” Somebody echoed his yawn.
Ichigo jumped, hitting his head against the small shelf above the sink. Stumbling, he whirled around. There, uncomfortably wrenched into the bathtub was Urahara Kisuke, yawning and stretching and cracking his back, sounding every day his age.
“Get out!” Ichigo glared at him.
Kisuke blinked. “Morning,” he cocked his head, then he started climbing out of the tub with an agonizingly slow pace as if he had broken all his bones in one night in the hard tub. “It’s morning already, right?”
Ichigo threw a glance at the clock next to the cup with the toothbrushes. “It’s past 10 am already.” He hadn’t known it was so late.
Urahara shrugged, then he suddenly stopped midmotion. “10 am?” He flinched. “So late?”
Ichigo’s eyes narrowed. Urahara looked almost guilty as if he’d done one of his stupid pranks and now, he had to admit to it. “What happened? What’s supposed to happen at 10 am?” He knew Urahara well enough to take such small guilty pouts seriously.
“Nothing, nothing,” Urahara waved him off with a grin, jumping to his feet with the agility of a squirrel. There was no problem with his back at all. “Nothing! You should hurry, enjoy a good healthy breakfast.”
“What did you do?”
With a broad smile, Urahara fished his hat out of the tub and pulled it deep over his eyes. “Nothing. I might have told that Arrancar that he can come to kill you at noon,” he sang in a cheerful tune.
“That Arrancar?” But there was only one Arrancar hellbent on killing him. “You told Grimmjow that we would fight? Today?” He glanced at the clock. “In not even two hours…”
Urahara shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t want him to ruin the party. And who knows, maybe he’s not on time.”
Irritated, Ichigo quickly dried his face. He wanted to take a long hot bath, but now he didn’t have time for it. “Right, not on time. He’s been itching for a rematch.” It was the only reason Grimmjow had helped them during the war. In a way, maybe Ichigo should be glad that he could get it over with soon. This would’ve been the kind of thing he would’ve pushed off for weeks and months until Grimmjow would eventually corner him at the worst time. Now, was fine. And still… “You should’ve told me.”
Urahara patted his shoulder. “Didn’t want to ruin the fun. And I told you—just now. As I said,” as he spoke, he made motions as if wiping some fuzz off Ichigo’s shoulder, “get a hearty breakfast. I’m sure that will help. You can do it!” He gave Ichigo a smiley thumbs up.
The boy felt a sudden need to punch the old man in the face, but then he just made a sharp turn, storming out of the bathroom, jumping over his shifting father and sister, and sneaking past the sleeping figure of Ikkaku and Yumichika leaning against the banister. He found Rukia and Renji curled into the couch, Tatsuki sleeping in an armchair, and Rangiku lying with her torso over the table and a drink still in hand.
Somebody else was already awake. As he tiptoed past Keigo on the carpet, he heard something clutter in the kitchen. A short white-haired boy stood against the counter, trying to make the coffee machine work.
“Let me,” Ichigo offered, shooing the Captain of the Tenth Division away before he could accidentally freeze the whole kitchen.
“You have basically no food in the fridge,” Hitsugaya complained with a frown on his face as if it was a great failure for a host to lack the food to feed their guests.
When Ichigo opened the fridge, it turned out that Hitsugaya was right. “You ate everything already,” Ichigo said. He was sure the fridge had been full the day before. However, Hitsugaya wasn’t appeased so easily, so Ichigo quickly switched the coffee machine on and offered to get something to eat from a nearby store.
In truth, when he slipped out of the house, he was somewhat glad to be outside. With all those guys breathing the same air, it got rather hot inside, and only now that he didn’t smell it anymore, did he really notice how much it stank of sweat.
One and a half hours, he reminded himself. He had no doubt, that Grimmjow would come on time. Truthfully, Ichigo didn’t know Grimmjow well enough to know whether he would normally come on time. He seemed the rebellious type, so Ichigo doubted it. But when it came to challenging Ichigo…There was little hope, Grimmjow would come late to that
So, Ichigo hurried a bit, buying food for twenty people, aware that some of his friends could eat for two, and arriving back at the house an hour later. Some of the others woke up already, by the time he entered with three bags of breakfast. Next to Hitsugaya, two women sat at the kitchen table. Yoruichi seemed chipper as always, ordering Urahara around as he was making more coffee for them. Next to her, Yoruichi’s biggest fans looked at Ichigo, never looking away.
In truth, Ichigo was somewhat unnerved why Soifon had joined the party at all. He liked her well enough, but they weren’t exactly friends. Though he assumed that Soifon came just to spend some time with Yoruichi, he hadn’t taken her to be the kind of person to waste time partying.
“Good morning,” he greeted, awkwardly.
Soifon kicked the chair opposite her a bit away from the table, inviting him to sit. “I need to talk to you.”
Oh…Here we go.
Ichigo knew she’d be the type to have an ulterior motive. Curiously, he sat on the offered chair, dumping the bags on the ground beside him. “What is it?”
“I’ve…Soul Society has come to a decision recently.” Soifon seemed uncertain, eyeing Yoruichi and Urahara in the room, then Hitsugaya. None of them seemed to know what she was talking about, not even her fellow captain. They all looked back at her with mild interest. Ichigo nodded, though he had no idea what this was about. “About the future of Hueco Mundo.”
“Hueco Mundo?” Urahara set the coffee cups down. “What about Hueco Mundo?”
“The Quincy caused serious harm to the hollows,” Soifon continued with a small frown.
Ichigo nodded, feeling troubled. While Soul Society had survived the attack with many losses but ultimately with their forces intact, the hollow population, from what he knew, had been crippled. He remembered Nel begging him for help at the start of this war. He still hadn’t figured out, how he could help the situation. “If you have a way to help,” he smiled, “I want to help. I have some friends there.”
Soifon’s frown deepened. “It’s not about helping, you see…”
Maybe Ichigo was still a bit too groggy to understand fully. “I don’t—”
“Captain,” Urahara hissed in a rare moment of seriousness. “What did the higher-ups decide?”
Soifon bit her lip. She looked down at her hands, then her shoulders tensed. “We have evaluated the situation and figured out that this is our first chance in a while to get a handle on the Arrancar situation.”
Ichigo blinked. “The Arrancar situation?”
“They aren’t supposed to exist. What the Hogyoku did to them… They are neither Hollow nor Shinigami, but…abominations.” She said it as if it wasn’t her choice of words. “They shouldn’t exist.”
Of course, Ichigo knew that Arrancar weren’t meant to exist. But they did. Some of the most powerful Hollows in Hueco Mundo had been turned by Aizen, which couldn’t just be undone. “There’s no way to reverse it,” he said, with a glance at Urahara seeking confirmation. The old man nodded.
“No there isn’t,” Soifon agreed. “That’s why they need to be taken care of.”
“Taken care of,” Ichigo echoed. “You want to kill them?”
“It’s not about what I want,” Soifon growled. “They are dangerous and…unnatural. Maybe we could tolerate some of the more stable ones, like your friend, that green-haired girl. But the other ones have to go.”
The other ones…
Ichigo suddenly understood the timing of the situation. “You want to kill Grimmjow?” He looked at Urahara. “You told them he’s coming.” It was just about him, Ichigo was sure. He doubted, the Shinigami even had any issue with his unnaturalness. After all, they’d come to accept the Vizords by now too. It was just Grimmjow who was a threat—not because he was unnatural or an abomination, but because he was a powerful Hollow threatening any Captain in power.
Soifon looked at the old man apologetically. “I have spies,” she said, turning back to Ichigo. “And he didn’t really make it a secret that he wanted to challenge you, as soon as the fighting ended.”
“Grimmjow was our ally,” Ichigo said. He couldn’t believe it. They had fought together against the Sternritter. That had to count for something. “You can’t kill him!”
“Oh, don’t kid yourself,” Soifon growled, annoyed now. “He’s not our ally. He helped because he wants to kill you himself. That’s not an ally.”
But it didn’t sound right, the way she said it. Although Urahara had just told him that Grimmjow would come to kill him, Ichigo wasn’t afraid of him. Even that first time, when Grimmjow announced that it was the only reason why he helped the Shinigami fight the Quincy, Ichigo hadn’t been afraid. Not because he was confident that he could defeat him—though he felt fairly confident in that regard—but because he was half-certain, even Grimmjow didn’t mean it the way he said it. He was like a cat, who wanted to play. He’d been furious when Ichigo hadn’t killed him after their last fight, but then again, Grimmjow hadn’t killed any of his friends either, though he certainly had the chance in the past.
“So, that should be my issue if he wants to kill me,” Ichigo growled. “He won’t kill you.”
Soifon nodded. “No, he won’t.” There was something hard and cold in her eyes. Something unsettling. “You’ll kill him.”
“What?”
“Later, when he comes to challenge you, you will kill him.”
Ichigo shook his head. “I won’t.”
“You won’t have a choice.”
He gritted his teeth. “Why me?” It was cruel to demand this of him, after everything he’d done for the Soul Society.
“Because he’s coming to fight you. Leaving him alive, you hurt his pride. We’ve watched him for a while now. He either wants to be killed by you or surpass you once again. With anybody else, there’s no telling, that he won’t flee when things go south. But you…When you overpower him, he’ll wait for you to kill him. As you should’ve done when you last fought.”
Ichigo stood. He hadn’t eaten anything, and he wasn’t hungry anymore. “No. No, I won’t do this. He’s our ally. He’s a friend!”
“He tried to kill you how many times? He tried to kill your friends, too.”
Ichigo shook his head, vehemently. “If he wanted to kill them, they’d be dead.”
“Don’t be naïve!”
Ichigo stormed to the door, opening it. “Out! Leave! I won’t do this!”
She looked at him, almost apologetic as if it wasn’t even his choice. As if the dice were cast and he just had to live with it. But if they thought he’d kill for them…or that he’d led them to kill somebody he almost considered a friend…He’d gone to war for less.
“I’m sorry, Kurosaki.”
“You can’t force me!” He opened a door a bit further, glaring at her. “You should go.”
Soifon finally stood. She was already at the door when she stopped right in front of him. “It wasn’t my choice, Kurosaki. That’s why I’m telling you. To give you a chance. If you can stop him from attacking if you can prove that he’s stable—”
“It has nothing to do with being stable!” Ichigo hissed. She didn’t understand their rivalry. The minute Grimmjow would jump out of his Garganta he’d attack. There would be no stopping him. It wouldn’t be necessary either. Just because some Shinigami demanded it, didn’t mean, he’d kill an ally, even if they were forced to fight.
“Try to stop him. If you can’t—”
He gritted his teeth, feeling his muscle tick in his jaw.
“That’s enough, Soifon,” Yoruichi spoke.
“You don’t understand!” He hadn’t seen the captain of the Second so distraught before. “I didn’t have a choice, I…I can’t stop this!”
“Stop what?” Yoruichi asked.
Soifon looked up at her. “The poison…” Her eyes widened, suddenly. Immediately Ichigo knew what had happened. He felt the Reiatsu bear down on him, heavy and thick.
He ran, barged through the door into the garden, staring up, where the sky parted. “Grimmjow…Grimmjow stop!”
But all he saw was a streak of turquoise, a maniac’s grin, and the spark of steel. Still, in his human body, Ichigo ducked under the attack.
“What are you waiting for?” Grimmjow growled. “Get your sword out, it’s no fun chopping you up if you’re not armed.”
“Wait, Grimmjow! There’s something wrong—” Ichigo started, and froze, when Grimmjow lifted his arm, palm opened toward the hospital. “Grimmjow!”
Let me out!
What?
Let me out! Let me out to play!
He heard the Hollow laugh, as the Cero built up, right in his face. He had to jump out of his body then, it was an automatic reaction to such a threatening situation. He raised a hand against the Cero, his Zanpakutou in his fist, only now realizing that he left his human form behind.
“Grimmjow stop!”
Go to sleep, King!
“There you are,” Grimmjow grinned, as Ichigo saw his vision narrow and focus. He wanted to scream for Grimmjow to run. Run! But his lips didn’t follow his command. Instead of warning Grimmjow, he heard himself growl and snarl and laugh.
And Grimmjow laughed back at him. It was the last thing, Ichigo saw. Then, as his eyes blinked open again, he found himself under a stormy sky, in an empty city of skyscrapers. He knew this place very well by now, but the fog was new.
“Zangetsu,” he screamed. “Zangetsu stop!”
But the fog didn’t lift, and all Ichigo heard was shrill laughter that he hadn’t heard in so long, he had forgotten his fear of that part of himself. The part, that would kill and hurt without pause.
**
Kurosaki used his Hollow mask right from the start. Even after all that time, Grimmjow still didn’t know exactly how the human was able to access Hollow powers, but he was glad to see the mask. It wouldn’t be right, without that. In their prior fights, Kurosaki always held back. Grimmjow had to work hard to coax the mask out of him. How could he say he killed the boy fair and square if the kid didn’t fight with his full power?
Clearly, Kurosaki finally understood that too. Good! Grimmjow hadn’t expected for him to use the mask so close to his family home, but presumably, during the war, he had finally conquered his inner Hollow, so he saw no reason for concern.
“That’s it, Kurosaki,” Grimmjow yelled. “Show me what you got!”
Ecstasy searched through his veins, as he sidestepped a counterattack and aimed with Panthera for the boy’s shoulder. To his shock, the boy was able to block his slash with the back of his forearm. He couldn’t see Kurosaki’s face, but he heard the mad laughter ring in his ears. Like a drill digging through metal armor.
Grimmjow took a step back. “I’m glad you take this seriously,” he laughed. “Let’s take this to Hueco Mundo—”
But he hadn’t even lifted his hand to reopen the Garganta when with a flash of his black blade, Kurosaki rushed him. Surprised, Grimmjow blocked the attack. The force of it pushed him back several steps. Kurosaki laughed.
“Patience,” Grimmjow growled, feeling a familiar ache in his wrist where he had absorbed the power of the blow against his blade. “You don’t want to kill your friends.” He smirked. “I wouldn’t mind of course,” he added nonchalantly flashing a grin at the short woman rushing out of the house. He recognized her well enough. Once he smashed a fist through her lung. That was a few years in the past. Behind her was the red-haired Vice-Captain and behind them the crazy old man.
“Grimmjow!” Urahara called out. “Grimmjow, stop!”
It was annoying, that the boy’s friends wanted to interrupt their fun once again. They didn’t understand. They simply didn’t get it! Grimmjow needed this fight. It was the whole reason for his partaking in the war in the first place. “Get lost!” Grimmjow commanded, looking at the others rushing out of the house more so than the old man. “Or I can’t promise that you won’t get hurt.”
“You don’t understand—”
But before he finished the sentence, Kurosaki raised his sword. “Getsuga—”
“Are you mad?” Grimmjow asked confused.
“Ichigo, stop!” The short woman yelled.
“—Tenshou!”
Grimmjow used Sonido to get away. Like a black storm, the attack cleaved through the garden in front of the Kurosaki Clinique, and the street behind it. It was the first indication that something was seriously wrong. Surely, the kid he remembered wouldn’t fight all out in his own family’s backyard, in the middle of the city. He’d always been so careful about collateral damage, especially when it came to his friends.
“Let’s go to Hueco—” Grimmjow tried again, but was cut off when Kurosaki flash-stepped right in front of him.
When had he gone Bankai?
“Fuck!” Grimmjow fled to the roof, but Kurosaki was faster than him. He hoped to get a chance to open a Garganta, but any attempt was interrupted forcing him to either parry or flee. His hands hurt from the forceful blows clashing with Panthera again and again, weakening his grip. He needed to go into his Resurrección, he knew. And soon if he wanted to get the upper hand.
He tried to get some distance to the house, throwing a series of quick Bala to distract the beastly boy, before he readied his Zanpakutou.
“Grimmjow!” The old man screamed. “Grimmjow, it’s not really Ichigo.”
But Grimmjow didn’t need to be told. He already understood that somehow, though he had thought Kurosaki finally had his Hollow under control, something had set him off. The real Kurosaki wouldn’t endanger his family or fellow humans, fighting in their world like that.
“Shameful!” Grimmjow screamed at him, feeling a blow to his own pride, once again, realizing that he’d lost to a kid with barely any control over their powers. Such indignation didn’t help him here, though. “Grind, Panthera!”
At the release of his Reiatsu, wind surged, sand, leaves, and twigs were blown into the air, tiles were lifted off the roofs. Shortly, he lost Kurosaki out of sight.
“Ichigo!” a girl screamed. “Big brother, what are you doing?” He saw the young brunette running from the premises, the captain of the Second Division on her tail, trying to call her back. Then Grimmjow heard the rattling breath of the other hollow.
“Shit!” Grimmjow hurried to catch up to them.
When Kurosaki crashed into him, ripping his shoulder open, Grimmjow didn’t quite know why he had so carelessly thrown himself between the boy and his sister. He should’ve just relied on the captain to protect the human girl, instead of doing it himself—No, scratch that! He didn’t care about the girl, anyway. Other than realizing that she was one of Kurosaki’s sisters he didn’t even know her. And yet his body had moved on its own.
The captain of the second stared at him with big eyes.
“You’ve gone mad,” Grimmjow grit out, glaring at Kurosaki, feeling furious, that of all days, today he had to lose his mind. He hadn’t lost it like that even against the Quincy king and now that he was supposed to give Grimmjow his revenge, he had to lose his marbles again. That wasn’t the match he had wanted. Sure, he wanted to fight the kid in his Hollow form, but not like that. Even the last time they fought, when Grimmjow forced him to use his mask in Las Noches, Kurosaki still had the presence of mind to protect Inoue. It was different now. As Grimmjow stared through the holes in Kurosaki’s mask, he saw nothing but madness.
The mindless Hollow raised one of his two swords for an attack. Grimmjow should get away, he knew, but instead, with the girl and captain still behind him, he only raised his claws to block. Kurosaki’s sword cleaved through his defenses, cutting the skin on Grimmjow’s right palm and arm. Still, Grimmjow managed to kick the boy away.
“Get the girl out of here!” He yelled to the captain, angry that she was still staring at him in such obvious confusion instead of moving her ass. “Get back to the house!” He hoped the house was safe, but at least there would be enough powerful Shinigami to slow Kurosaki down on his rampage.
“Jaeger—” Soifon began, then her eyes widened, she pulled Kurosaki’s sister close and ducked. “Jaegerjaques, duck!”
Grimmjow didn’t have time to react.
“You gotta be kidding,” he grunted in confusion, as he felt his leg drench in blood, the pain from his side only hitting him with some delay. Kurosaki had impaled him… Fucking impaled him! Not with a sword, but a single horn, ripping the skin around his Hollow hole open. The mask was gone. Instead, when Kurosaki pulled away, blood splattering from his horn, Grimmjow stared into a pale white face, golden eyes glowing, surrounded by black. For a moment, he couldn’t fathom, that Kurosaki had changed into this form already, then with a cough, he convulsed and spat out a mouthful of blood. “F—fucking hell,” he stuttered.
They’d fought four times, and this was the first time, he realized, that Kurosaki genuinely fought to kill him. He’d wanted exactly that, waited for it for years, furious that Kurosaki hadn’t finished it the last time, but now, a new sort of rage overcame him.
Their battle was supposed to happen in Hueco Mundo, away from Kurosaki’s obnoxious friends that would only be distractions. Of course, Grimmjow hadn’t thought that the roles would be so reversed, that he’d be the one to throw himself in front of them to protect them, but in any case, he didn’t want them close during their battle. And he wanted Kurosaki fucking awake and knowing what he was doing. Somehow, wanting the boy to fight seriously, to fight to kill him was different from seeing it.
This Kurosaki…This creature hellbent on killing him was terrifying. And Grimmjow would maybe embrace the challenge, if it weren’t for the mere fact that he knew, it wasn’t real. Sooner or later, the boy would come to, sooner or later he’d wrestle back control—and if waking up he realized that he had killed any of his friends, even his own sisters, he’d never forgive himself. It was an odd realization for Grimmjow when he understood that it was that concern that made him throw himself in front of the boy’s sister. It was that which made him want to protect Kurosaki’s friends from the kid himself.
“Shit,” he grunted, feeling immediately mad at himself, for doing something so stupid, and yet, he felt no regret at his decision. When his fangs and claws clashed with Kurosaki’s blades and horn again and again, for the first time, he had the odd sentiment that he wasn’t fighting to kill, or to dominate somebody he hated, he didn’t fight to stop the kid from looking down at him. He fought to protect what the boy held dear.
Because this wasn’t the rematch he had hoped for, but if he wanted another chance at it, he needed to protect the boy’s heart.
For a creature without a heart of his own, Grimmjow fought long and hard to save that of another. In the end, he’d rather die himself, than allow the kid to kill his friends. He owed Kurosaki his life after all, for the boy had spared him years ago, and in a way, he had only sought out this battle, so they could finally get even. So, if he died, it was meant to be. But for the boy to kill his own friends… He couldn’t allow that.
Grimmjow knew he was weaker than Kurosaki. He’d known it even before today when he watched him fight the Sternritter. Of course, Grimmjow had grown stronger since their last battle, but Ichigo’s powers had seemingly multiplied. Each hit, though Grimmjow managed to block a fair few of them, pushed him further back. His defenses were flimsy and hastily thrown up and despite his Hierro, his skin was soon riddled with small scraps and deeper cuts. And still, despite finding himself on the defense constantly, he managed to move the battle away from the boy’s home, and the city, until with aching limbs and blood-soaked rags, he smashed into a small forest park, feeling his Resurrección vanish.
“It’s never good, when a Resurreccion vanishes on its own,” Kurosaki mocked, voice sounding like the voices of three people, drilling into Grimmjow’s head, giving him a migraine.
It was the first time Kurosaki spoke in a while. Other than mad laughter, Grimmjow hadn’t heard much of him. “Is that you, kid?” Kurosaki landed a few feet away from where Grimmjow struggled back to his feet, fist locked around Panthera. But though the creature spoke, it clearly wasn’t the boy he knew. The eyes were still burning with the same ecstasy Grimmjow had seen when Kurosaki almost killed his sister.
“It was nice of you to save the girl,” Kurosaki mocked as if he didn’t even care about his own family. “Ichigo will thank you for it.”
“Will you allow him back into control after you killed me?” Grimmjow asked uncertainly, raising his hand.
The hollow laughed mockingly. Instead of answering, he charged right at Grimmjow. But the short conversation gave Grimmjow just enough time to prepare. With a flick of his wrist, finally—finally—the Garganta opened right in front of him, Kurosaki too startled to stop his momentum. Grimmjow closed the portal immediately after the boy fell through.
Exhausted and feeling the last of his Reiatsu drain out of him, he fell to his knees, head hung low as the Zanpakutou fell from his grip. He had all but given up on surviving the day, but now, for the first time, he felt a sense of relief. He also felt a bit cowardly for avoiding death once more.
When he heard steps, he looked up. Soon after Kurosaki disappeared, the Shinigami appeared in the park, surrounding Grimmjow. The way they stared at him, raised his heckles enough that he wanted to flee. Feebly, he fumbled for the hilt of his katana. Were they about to attack?
“Stop!” the captain of the Second Division appeared. Physically, she was the shortest of the Shinigami, but her Reiatsu was tightly coiled and threatening. “Stop, pull back!”
“What is this?” Grimmjow coughed, tasting blood in the back of his throat.
“Our orders—” One of the Shinigami started to protest.
“Your orders are to retreat,” the captain hissed, just as Urahara and Yoruichi appeared next to her with uncharacteristically stern expressions on their faces.
“Where is he?” Urahara asked.
Grimmjow was about to answer, feeling his wariness slowly drain out of him, now that the other Shinigami were retreating, when his whole body froze. There, right in front of him, just an arm’s length away from his face, the atmosphere ripped apart, opening the black maw of a Garganta. With mad rage burning in his golden eyes, Kurosaki stared down at him.
“Since when…” Grimmjow muttered, feeling immensely exhausted. “When did you learn to open a Garganta?”
He didn’t have the strength to raise his sword, not even his arm when Kurosaki lifted the black blade over Grimmjow’s bowed head.
“Today, you’ll end it, huh?” He felt a surprising amount of regret at the realization, closing blue eyes as the sword fell.
Hurried steps, a cloud of smoke—some gas?
He felt the cold steel against his neck when the blade suddenly stopped. As he looked up, the boy blinked down at him, black retreating from his eyes, horn falling apart. Soifon stood close, hand still raised from the smoke-bomb she’d thrown.
“What—” Kurosaki stumbled back, he tripped over a root behind him and fell hard on his ass.
Weirdly, no matter how much he had regretted having to die, at the realization that he wouldn’t after all, he felt the same old familiar indignation raging through his veins. “Why can’t you fucking get it over with?” he growled, struggling to his feet, empty-handed, not even having the energy to pick up his sword. “If you can’t kill me, our battle won’t ever end.”
Kurosaki blinked at him. “What have I done?” He looked around, looking confused. “Where are we?”
“Pick up your Zanpakutou!” Grimmjow commanded raising his own hand to fuel a final Cero with his last bit of Reiatsu…maybe it wouldn’t be enough for a Cero, but at the very least he could manage the smaller Bala. The red light illuminated the face of the shaken kid. “Come on, kid, don’t think it’s over.”
“Where’s my family?” Kurosaki asked back. He scratched his head, eyes narrowing to look past the red ball of light. With wide, fearful eyes, he found Grimmjow finally. “Grimmjow you’re injured.”
“The hell I am!”
“Your family is fine,” Soifon started to explain. “Your sisters are still at home.”
“But I—” Kurosaki held his head as if trying to fend off a headache. “I lost control in our garden. Please tell me, I didn’t hurt anybody!”
“You didn’t hurt anybody,” Soifon answered, then hesitated as she looked to Grimmjow. “Apart from…”
Kurosaki stared at the Hollow with regret in his eyes. “What are you looking at?” Grimmjow raged. “You didn’t hurt anybody you care about. I made sure of it, so don’t even think about running away!”
Kurosaki didn’t move. His lips twisted as if there was a terrible pain in his heart as if he didn’t get what Grimmjow was saying.
Why was he looking like that? Grimmjow had made sure that the kid wouldn’t hurt his family or friends! He had no right to look at him like that now as if his world was falling apart. With so much guilt in brown eyes.
“Pick up your sword!” Grimmjow already felt the word tilt under his feet.
“Grimmjow…” Kurosaki’s eyes suddenly widened, impossibly huge. “You’re injured…Why are you—Did I?” He glanced at the captain and suddenly seemed to remember something. “Wait—Soifon, get away from him, don’t hurt him—He’s—"
But at that moment, the energy exploded in Grimmjow’s hand, unable to find enough Reiatsu for an aimed attack. He slumped, losing consciousness before he could feel the kid catch him.
