Chapter Text
The ringing doesn’t register at first.
It’s quiet, but incessant. Ichigo slaps for his phone, nearly knocking it right off the nightstand in his fumble for it. He swipes to answer, holding it to his ear as he rolls over onto his back. “Mm?”
“Sorry to disturb you, Kurosaki.” Urahara’s voice comes through the phone, a little bit tinny. He sounds breathless, like he ran over to the phone from a mile away. It wakes him up slightly, knowing that Urahara’s actually pretty fit but still out of breath. “But you need to come to the lab.”
“The lab.” Ichigo stifles a yawn and checks the analog clock. He blinks, once, twice, then, “Right now?”
“Well, no, but you won’t regret this. We’ll be going underground five floors.”
It’s the fact that Urahara’s giving him clearance for the base floors that convinces him. He’s got clearance for the two negative floors, but not for the bottom three. He mutters, “I’ll be right there” and forces himself to roll out of his nice, warm bed.
He drags on two layers and a jacket because it’s freezing at four in the morning, and treks out the door. The road's icy, and a little bit of sliding wakes him up faster than coffee would by the time he parks at the facility.
Ichigo heads down, swiping his clearance badge to access the first base floor, where he assumes Urahara will wait for him. He assumes right, spotting the man waiting for him by the supercomputers.
“Have you slept lately?” Ichigo demands, glancing at the heavy bags underneath the blond’s eyes. “Jeez, you look like a walking corpse.”
“I slept twenty-five hours ago,” Urahara says flippantly, leading him down the other elevator. He swipes the card against the bottom slot and the numbers dip to -5. “This was more important.”
Sleep-deprived Ichigo had to disagree. Still, he follows him out of the elevator and into a dark room. It’s lit by multiple bright monitors, still flickering with data and various open tabs. Urahara flicks a switch and the overhead lights come to life, revealing the massive, carved-out room and an impressive equally sized fish tank.
Ichigo gravitates towards it immediately, searching the confines.
It’s a massive tank, reaching halfway up the room height and spanning from one end to the other. There’s no lack of decoration within the tank—There’s a fake coral bed, boulders, even a small kelp forest throughout the sand floor.
But throughout the entire tank, there is not a sign of fish. There’s an eerie sense of stillness that raises gooseflesh across his arm.
“Is it empty?” It’s a guess, though he’s aware there’s probably something in it. Urahara has quite a bit of money, but even he wouldn’t keep a clean tank running.
Urahara calls out to him from where he’s climbing the stairs to get to the catwalk. “Wait there. Let me show you something.”
He waits obediently by the glass as Urahara opens and closes something. There’s the distinct smell of something fishy before the sound of splashing. Immediately, the water turns a cloudy red as a bucket of fish is dumped in. Some are alive, quickly swimming off into the open waters; others are freshly killed, the source of the blood.
Ichigo waits one minute, two minutes, then frowns. “What are we wai-”
From the thick kelp forest comes a bolt of color, and then the fish are being snapped up faster than they can swim. He’s watching a massacre, fish being torn apart and devoured quickly. In less than a minute, all seven fish are eaten. The creature stills and sets its gaze on Ichigo.
It’s a beautiful specimen, there’s no doubt about that. The torso vaguely represents a human male, but everything else is completely alien. It’s almost three times his size, especially with the long tail that shimmers underneath the light. Wherever there’s scales, it’s colored white with wild streaks of black and electric blue, the latter being the color of its hair. It’s also packed with muscle, but built for speed, just as he saw when it was hunting.
There’s dressing around the lower end of its tail, a stark white against the rosettes of black and blue. It’s stained pink, probably the result of an open wound.
Ichigo doesn’t realize it’s come closer until he nearly bumps his nose against the thick glass. The creature comes closer too, looking mildly amused. Ichigo doesn’t miss the intelligence in those cerulean eyes and the flash of teeth in a manic grin.
He’s aware he’s dangerous, especially having seen what those claws and fangs can do, but it still startles him when it slams its tail hard against the glass. Ichigo yelps, taking half a step back. The creature cackles loudly, somewhat disturbing and amazing to hear underwater, before taking off into the thicket.
“He seems to like you.” Ichigo huffs, glancing at Urahara descending the stairs. “He didn’t seem to like Yoruichi much.”
“Well, I think he’s an asshole,” Ichigo grumbles halfheartedly. He can’t deny he’s in awe, but the specimen did not make a good first impression on him. “And how do you know it’s a ‘he’?”
“Well, he’s quite smart, not to mention well-informed of subterranean culture,” Urahara shrugs. “He reacted negatively to other pronouns other than he/him. He doesn’t like to be called PA-06, but I don’t like the term ‘mermaid’ or merman’.”
“Have you tried asking him?” Ichigo glances at the dissipating pink color in the tank. With all the movement in the water, it’s turning clear once again, but he can’t forget the carnage that happened less than five minutes ago. “He’s smart enough to know his own pronouns; he’s probably got a name.”
“Well, you can ask him when you get the chance,” Urahara says cheerfully, clapping his hands on Ichigo’s shoulder.
“Wait, wh-”
“For today on, you are officially in charge of PA-06 until we release him.” Urahara beams and checks his watch. “You can start now. He requires antibiotics, so I’ll help you sedate him so we can roll him up to the ramp.”
He starts walking towards the catwalk once more, leaving Ichigo to scramble after him. “Hey, wait, you can’t possible expect that I can handle him by myself-”
“Oh, he’s mostly safe,” Urahara tells him. “In any case, you’ll be responsible for feeding and recording his behavior most of the time. Don’t worry, I won’t abandon you.”
That was…better than what he was expecting to do. Still.
Urahara senses the trepidation in his face and smiles innocently. “For the duration of PA-06’s stay, you will receive an extra ¥10,000 to your hourly wage.”
That was very generous of him, but there was the danger factor to think about. Ichigo chews his lip, debating over the pros and cons when one of those cons could easily be death by predator.
Urahara tacks on another number that sells the deal. And food from the local shops while he’s within the premise.
“Oh, what the hell,” Ichigo sighs hard, throwing his hands up. “If I die, you’re legally obligated to tell my family yourself.”
Urahara’s well aware of Karin’s lack of mercy to those who hurt her family. And while it’s Karin who’s hotheaded, it’s Yuzu everyone watches out for.
Her crotch-hits and ability to headshot someone with household objects are legendary, among other interesting (painful) talents within his family. “Yes, yes, I agree. Let’s hurry up. PA-06 should be waiting.”
Waiting? Didn’t he leave in the opposite direction?
He finds his answer sitting on top of a floating ramp, looking bored. Out of the water, he looks flat with all his hair clinging to his skin. He eyes Ichigo in a way that Ichigo believes he’s pondering on whether he tastes good or not.
“Meat sack.”
He nearly slips in the wet catwalk at the sound of PA-06 talking. His hand clamps on a rail as he steadies himself. “You can talk?”
“You can talk?” PA-06 mocks him, and it’s the strangest thing when what comes out of his mouth is Ichigo’s voice but with a sassy tone. He cackles, dropping the tone to a sort of rumbly purr. “Of course I can talk.”
“He’s very mouthy,” Urahara chimes in, shuffling through a metal box. “You’ll get along well.”
“Don’t like him already,” Ichigo mutters darkly. “He’s an asshole.”
“So you’ve said,” PA-06 drones boredly. He lays on his side now, head propped up by a palm. “Hurry it up, meat sacks. I don’t have all day.”
“You’re in a tank,” Ichigo points out dryly. “Where have you got to be?”
“Could be out killing the two of you, but here I am being a saint,” PA-06 sneers, flashing pearly white fangs. His tail flicks out like an irritated cat. It reminds Ichigo that he’s playing with fire and he backs off.
“You’re right, sorry.” Ichigo leaves his jacket out on the table and shucks off a shirt. It’s warm in the room, even warmer where they are now. After some consideration, he takes off his top pants to leave him in briefs. He’s guessing he’ll probably end up soaked, but he can’t help but feel vulnerable with every layer he takes off. “How are we doing this?”
“I’ll show you how to apply the treatment,” Urahara instructs, holding up a tube and extra dressing. “It should be done once a day, everyday.”
And then he tosses a neatly folded wetsuit at Ichigo’s head. “And put that on. Changing room’s on the bottom left of the stairs.”
Grumbling here and there, Ichigo’s back on the catwalk in a wetsuit in less than ten minutes. Urahara mirrors him in a wetsuit lined with neon green. “Good, come here.”
They trek down the ramp, where PA-06 doesn’t even bat an eye as they crowd his tail. He’s half submerged in the water, tail out on shallow water while he’s under the deep end. With Urahara’s verbal instructions, Ichigo unwraps the dressing and stares at the injury. It’s ugly and oozes something pink, but it isn't as bad as Ichigo thought it might have. “No infection, clean entry; it’s healing pretty well.”
“The harpoon went straight through his tail less than a week ago,” Urahara explains absently. “He can regenerate flesh.”
“Of course he can,” Ichigo mutters under his breath, exploring the well-healing wound. He applies ointment on the wound and rewraps it as told. PA-06 doesn’t immediately move from the ramp, choosing to flip his tail up like he was examining it. Then he grins and slaps his thin fins against Ichigo’s cheek with a loud thwap !
“Asshole,” Ichigo barks as PA-06 shoots back into the water with another watery laugh. “Geez.”
Urahara chuckles and disposes of the bandages in a biohazard bin. “Oh yes, I think you’ll get along very well.”
─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .*｡☆ :. ───────
Urahara helps him out the first four days, making sure he knows what to do, what to document, and to just keep an eye on things in general. PA-06’s as snarky as always, always poking great fun at Ichigo for every little thing. It grates on his nerves, but it’s not the worst treatment he’s had.
He explains PA-06’s injury is the result of spooked commercial fisherman. Coincidentally, the fisherman had been a friend of Urahara, so the PA-06 was captured, sedated, and transported to the lab. Urahara tells more stories of PA-06, including how he got his tentative trust, but he’s more interested in the fact PA-06 actually put his trust in the scientist.
One the fifth day, Urahara ducks out of the process with a flimsy excuse of having to take Yoruichi out for an anniversary date, which he knows is a lie because it’s actually two months later.
He stomps out of the changing room appropriately dressed in his wetsuit. Urahara mentioned before that PA-06 had to be fed once a day from the adjacent tank. Due to the size of PA-06’s tank, it had been overlooked the previous day that there was a slightly smaller tank filled with various fish.
“Chow time,” Ichigo calls out. He’s aware PA-06 can hear very well despite the water. He heard Ichigo past all that water and glass three inches thick. Still, there’s no answer, not even a flicker of movement from the kelp forest he’s always hiding in. “Oi.”
He sighs and sets down the bucket of live fish to dangle his hand in the water and give it a swish. “Come on, aren’t you hungry?”
A hand snatches his wrist and yanks hard. Ichigo yelps and inadvertently inhales saltwater as he’s submerged in water. Panic sets in as water rushes down his nose and throat, and he flails wildly. True fear sinks in as he realizes he’s not breaking the surface, and he thrashes harder.
An arm wraps around his torso and he’s jerked up onto the ramp. Ichigo hacks up saltwater that comes out from his mouth and nose, and isn’t that the worst feeling. Everything burns and aches like he’s run a marathon; he doesn’t even notice the presence by his side nor the hand on his arm.
“Hey, meat sack.” PA-06 shakes his arm firmly. “Hey, what’s the matter with you?”
“You-” Ichigo coughs, retches once, and heaves a shaky breath as he pulls away from PA-06. “You- That wasn’t funny!”
“Well, I didn’t know you weren’t going to inhale water,” PA-06 snaps, baring his teeth defensively. “You don’t see that scientist trying to breathe in water.”
“He holds his breath,” Ichigo snaps back, pulling himself fully out of the water to drape himself over the ramp like an exhausted walrus. He reminds himself PA-06 wasn’t trying to kill him, and was only playing a practical joke. “I didn’t have time to hold my breath.”
“Tch.” PA-06 clicks his tongue against his teeth (and it’s such a human action that he has to crack a smile), and drags himself up the ramp to lay next to him. “I didn’t mean to drown you.”
For as long as Ichigo has known PA-06, his brusque personality doesn’t allow him to say things like “please” and “thank you”, but he’s aware this is his way of apologizing.
“It’s fine.” Ichigo lays his head against the floor and sighs, exhaustion seeping through his limbs like mud.
They lay there in silence for a solid minute before PA-06 pipes up again. “Grimmjow.”
“What?” Ichigo can’t help the sleepy lull in his tone as he forces the words from his throat. The stinging has resided slightly, but he’s more interested in the word thrown out.
“My name.” Grimmjow snorts. “Or the best way I can say it so you can pronounce it.”
“What’s your actual name?” He turns his head and nearly pokes his eyes out on the spikes on Grimmjow’s ear fins. He wants to touch it, but then-
“Those are poisonous.” He retracts his hand so fast, Grimmjow cackles wildly. His tail slaps the surface of the water similar to how one would slap their knee with mirth. “Just kidding.”
“Asshole,” Ichigo hisses, but there’s a lack of heat behind it and Grimmjow knows it. “Say your actual name.”
There’s a beat in which Grimmjow inhales, and then the deepest rumble he’s ever heard a living being make comes out from his throat. It sounds like something from the depths of hell and then some. Ichigo swears he can feel his brain vibrating within his skull.
“I dare you to say that.” Grimmjow props himself up on an elbow to lean in Ichigo’s space.
“I don’t think humans are capable of making that sound,” Ichigo protests weakly. He doesn’t think his lungs are up to the task, but he makes a valiant effort. It starts off loud, then peters to something pathetically small.
Grimmjow howls with laughter before he’s even done, and this time Ichigo can’t bring himself to be mad. He laughs too, hard enough that he begins to wheeze and cough.
Grimmjow turns him over to his side, thumping his back hard; and just like that, all is forgiven.
Mostly.
There’s always the occasions in which Grimmjow just splashes him with a tidal wave of water and then he’d be soaking wet and still have to mop up the puddles. Or when Grimmjow yanks him into the water, remember to not drag his head under.
His hand makes a quick grab for his ankle and he hops over the hand with a smug grin. Ichigo flicks the middle finger at him, and Grimmjow mirrors him (Urahara teaches him all the bad habits and enables him). “You’ll have to come up with new tricks soon, fish boy- OW!”
Ichigo nearly slams his head on the catwalk as Grimmjow spins on the ramp and sweeps him off his feet with the peduncle of his tail. He groans as he lays his head down anyways and lays there for a few seconds, throwing a hand over his eyes. “Can you go one day without doing that?”
“No,” Grimmjow says succinctly. He takes a victory swim around the tank.
“Looks like you are all getting along swimmingly,” Urahara jokes as he trots up the stairs.
“No thanks to you,” Ichigo replies scathingly. He sits up and collects the antibiotics and rolls of dressing. “Leaving me here with this menace for two weeks. What happened to not abandoning me?”
“Tough love, meat sack,” Grimmjow drawls from the ramp. He waves his tail impatiently. “Now, how’s my tail looking?”
“Now, now, it’s not polite to be fishing for compliments,” Urahara sings, wagging his finger. Grimmjow growls, flipping him off too. “Ooh, using what I taught you, I see. It’s o-fish-cial, I’m a teacher.”
“Please, no more fish puns,” Ichigo begs him from the floor. He picks himself off and groans at the fact Grimmjow got his socks wet.
“You’re starting to sound like a broken record.” Even Grimmjow’s starting to get sick of it. Although the phrase he used wasn’t quite right, he wasn’t technically wrong. Both are annoying.
Urahara sighs heavily like it’s the biggest inconvenience. “Never talk to someone who hasn’t been properly caf-fin-ated.”
“Grimmjow, sic’em.”
It’s a testament to how far they’ve come in their relationship that Grimmjow does as he says, sweeping a small wave over Urahara’s head. Ichigo only receives a half-hearted snarl in return, but Urahara’s soaked so he counts that as a win in his books.