Chapter Text
Dust from shattered rock and pulverised sand hung in the air of the bunker like a layer of fog that stuck in gritty particles to Ichigo’s sweat dampened skin. This fight had been a long time coming, years of taunts and promises, and it had not disappointed. His muscles burned, his left knee threatened to buckle beneath him and blood stung viciously as it dripped into one eye. There was a deep cut into the side of his wrist that leaked blood down Zangetsu, but his twin blades were steady as they dug through Grimmjow's hierro, one on either side of his moon bleached neck. He held the arrancar’s life between his blades, and Zangetsu was thrilled.
Furious aqua eyes bored into his own.
“Do you yield?” Ichigo demanded.
“What?”
“Do you yield?”
“Stop fucking with me and take my head off,” Grimmjow spat, a strange emotion in his eyes. “Do it, Kurosaki!”
Instinct made him push down, Zangetsu crooning in triumphant victory in his mind as Grimmjow’s knees thudded to the dirt, Ichigo’s blades resting heavy on his shoulders, slicing perilously close to his collarbones. “I never wanted to kill you,” he reminded his opponent.
The light breeze from unseen fans blew the last of the dust away from the pair, leaving the air unforgivingly clear as Ichigo stared down into green lined eyes. There was blood on Grimmjow’s mask, and he wondered for an idle moment which of them it belonged to.
Grimmjow bared his teeth in a vicious parody of a smile. “I didn’t think you were the sort,” he sneered, defiance written in every line of his body. Slowly, unwillingly, he crossed his wrists behind his back and tilted his chin up a fraction. “King.”
Ichigo raised his swords in shock at hearing Zangetsu’s name for him fall from Grimmjow’s lips. Bright red blood stained Grimmjow’s shoulders and neck in sweeping lines where Zangetsu had sliced through armoured cloth and heirro to the flesh beneath.
/Ain’t that a pretty sight?/ Zangetsu crooned.
Ichigo averted his eyes, his gaze falling on the gently steaming water of the healing spring. “Go dunk yourself before you bleed out, idiot,” he said, pretending to be completely occupied with sheathing his sword. Goosebumps shivered across his skin as Grimmjow’s wild reiatsu retreated, Pantera resuming her sealed form on Grimmjow’s hip as his resurrection faded away.
Ichigo followed suit, letting his bankai fade away and gritting his teeth as a fresh wave of pain flared through his battered body. He just needed to get to the hot spring, and whatever alchemy Urahara and Tessai had concocted would soothe his injuries away in minutes as if they’d never happened. It was like walking on knives, but he managed to make his way to the edge of the spring with his dignity mostly intact, only to realise that Grimmjow was standing stiffly on the edge, his hands on his belts. After a moment long enough that Ichigo opened his mouth to say something, Grimmjow began shedding clothing with jerky economy of movement.
The warm, gently steaming water stung like a bitch as always, but Ichigo was familiar enough with the sensation and managed to keep his face neutral. Having won the battle he wasn’t entirely sure why he was continuing the tough guy façade, but it felt right.
/A lot of things feel right, King/ Zangetsu muttered. /The question is, how far are we going to go? My vote is for all the way of course./
/What are you talking about?/ Ichigo demanded, but a manic laugh was his only answer.
“So, what’s the plan now?” Ichigo asked. “Back to Hueco Mundo?”
Surprise widened Grimmjow’s eyes as he looked relieved for a moment before he nodded, dropping his eyes to focus on his rapidly healing knuckles. “I’ll need to talk to Harribel,” he said quietly. “But you’ll see me again soon.”
“I’m not looking for a rematch,” Ichigo said hastily. “One fight, that’s all I-”
“I’m not asking for a do-over,” Grimmjow snapped. “You don’t have to worry. You won.” He ducked under the water, which was an effective way of ending their conversation. By the time he emerged, dripping and scowling, Ichigo’s mind had moved on to his rumbling stomach.
“Say, do you need to get back to Harribel straight away?”
Grimmjow looked suspicious. “I… guess not,” he shrugged. “Why? Need me to clean your shoes?”
“Why is everything a- never mind. Yuzu’s making curry and I’m starving so you probably are too. Want to come over for dinner?”
There was a long silence from the other side of the healing spring. When Ichigo eventually cracked and looked over there, it was to find Grimmjow staring at him in disbelief.
“I’m dead, dipshit. I can’t eat human food.”
“Urahara wanted someone to test out the reiryoku conversion abilities of his latest gigai, this seems like a good opportunity. He’d probably owe you a favour.”
“Owe you a favour,” Grimmjow huffed, looking down. “I… you want me around your family?”
“Well, I’d ask you to try not to traumatise them, but I think dad already has that covered. Don’t threaten to eat either of them.”
“I would never,” Grimmjow objected, offended. “I don’t prey on the weak.” He lent back on the edge of the spring and stared up, water dripping from his hair and darkening the dirt behind him.
“Then we won’t have a problem, will we,” Ichigo said flatly. He ducked under the surface to rinse dust and rock particles from his hair and hopefully close the scalp laceration Grimmjow had caused with a particularly savage and difficult to avoid kick.
When he resurfaced Grimmjow was halfway through climbing out of the spring and he closed his eyes against the unexpected eyeful. It was a futile effort, the plump, flushed cock and mat of water slick blue pubes was already seared into the back of his eyelids. He wondered if it was the warm water or lingering adrenaline, or perhaps the arrancar’s cock was never as pale as the rest of him. Then he wondered why he was wondering, as his own dick stirred with interest. Ichigo sank back until the waterline hopefully hid his blush. The sexuality crisis had hit several years ago, but Grimmjow? Not a person he had expected to find himself blushing over. Although his fledgling crush on Hisagi Shuuhei should have made him realise that he liked a bad boy, and Grimmjow was certainly that.
When he dared open his eyes again Grimmjow was dressed and…. Waiting. Hands in his pockets, staring resolutely into space and waiting with a lot more patience than Ichigo would have ever given him credit for.
“I’ll just be a sec, you got me good on my scalp and I want to make sure it’s closed before I get back into my body. Soul injuries transfer, sometimes weirdly.”
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Grimmjow scowled. “And it wasn’t good enough, was it.”
Ichigo climbed out and pulled his haori over damp skin as he’d be in different clothes in two minutes anyhow. “It was good, most enjoyable fight I’ve had in a long time,” he said, trying for reassuring and suspicious that he was falling somewhat short. Or perhaps missing some hollow subtext, from the way Zangetsu was practically giggling inside his skull.
Grimmjow shrugged. “Nearly got you three times, but nearly doesn’t cut it,” he said. “You said your sister is cooking?”
“Yuzu, yeah. I have two sisters, Yuzu and Karin. They’re not much alike.”
“And your old man is a Shinigami, right?” Grimmjow fell into step a pace behind as Ichigo headed for the ladder.
“An exiled Captain, yeah.”
“You sure he’ll be ok with a Hollow as a dinner guest?”
Ichigo contemplated Isshin’s reaction for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll text him when I’m back in my body, but it should be fine. He’ll be overjoyed that you’re interacting like a civilised person.”
“What are the other options?” The arrancar scoffed.
“Rukia squatted in my cupboard and stole my sister’s clothes, and half the visitors to my house come in through my bedroom window with their shoes on.” Ichigo revealed.
“Well that’s rude as fuck.”
Ichigo shrugged, and then started climbing. “It’s a low bar, is what I’m saying,” he said over his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. Yuzu is going to be overjoyed to meet anyone, she can’t see spirits and I think she’s been feeling left out. Karin took a more active role when I lost my powers, and now that I’ve regained them she’s the odd one out.”
“She’s descended from a Shinigami and a Quincy same as you, right? Weird.”
Ichigo bristled. “I prefer unique,” he snapped.
“No, I- I meant that if you and …Karin can, then it’s weird that Yuzu can’t.”
They climbed in silence for a long moment before Ichigo’s ire dissipated and he began to feel a little silly about his overreaction. “I guess. Urahara is likely the only one who would be able to figure out why, and the chances of Dad letting him anywhere near Yuzu when he isn’t actively saving her from a threat is non-existent.”
“Got it, King.”
Ichigo swallowed down his first reaction, which would have been to snap at Grimmjow again for using Zangetsu’s stupid nickname. He’d already overreacted once in this conversation. “Got what?” He asked as they reached the trapdoor at the top of the ladder.
“Kurosaki Yuzu is to be protected,” the arrancar replied, shocking Ichigo enough that he nearly dropped the trapdoor on his own head, which would have been embarrassing and potentially painful if the resultant jolt had knocked the pair of them back down to the floor of the bunker.
Before he could ask Grimmjow when the hell he had decided that Ichigo’s family were worthy of his protection, Urahara appeared lugging a large suitcase. His hat was askew and he carried the scent of burnt fabric with him like cologne.
“Kurosaki-saaaaaan! As the bunker is of course monitored at all times, I have brought the experimental gigai for Jaegerjaquez-san to test. And I took the liberty of calling the house to warn them of the extra dinner guest, there is no need to text!" he said in a rush. "As supposed, I will owe one favour in return for the test data. Pleasure doing business with you! Now I’m afraid I simply must be off.” Snapping his fan and winking, he backed out of the room, leaving the suitcase on the tatami next to Ichigo’s body. In the distance there was a thud followed by a muffled shout that sounded a bit like Tessai.
“…I don’t want to know,” Ichigo decided. “This place is a madhouse. Come on, let’s get out of here before we’re forced to pick a side. If it comes to it, never pick the side Jinta is on. It always looses.”
“You make no fucking sense,” Grimmjow complained, but he snapped open the suitcase and leapt back with a curse as the gigai inside flopped out and inflated with a hissing noise. “The hell?”
“They do that,” Ichigo said, sitting up and rubbing at the pins and needles in his arse and thighs.
“Yours never did that, that I saw,” Grimmjow said suspiciously, poking at the faux body. It was one of Urahara’s newer models, with a blank face designed to take on the features of the soul inhabiting it and a shock of pale hair, dressed in a black flannel shirt with a grey check and a pair of grey jeans. There was a jacket with a fluffy faux fur collar in the case as well, Urahara must have been interrupted while getting the thing dressed.
“Mine isn’t a gigai,” Ichigo pointed out impatiently. ”Just get in already.”
“It’s not like I do this on a weekly basis,” the arrancar muttered. With movements reminiscent of someone entering an extremely hot bath, Grimmjow folded his form into the gigai, opened his eyes and wrinkled his nose. “Feels kinda tight,” he complained.
“Give it a second to adapt to you,” Ichigo advised. “The face has moulded in pretty well from the blank. I’m not sure the hair is going to take though, you might have to live with blond. Probably best though, the neighbours already think the Clinic is somehow affiliated with the Yakuza.”
“The Shinigami or the Quincy?” Grimmjow asked, shrugging into the jacket.
Ichigo shrugged and lead the way out of the shoten. “Neither, most of those were invisible to the neighbours. The Fullbringr arseholes on the other hand, they were all too obvious.”
Grimmjow continued to keep pace a step behind as Ichigo headed for home, and after two streets of having to turn his head, Ichigo had had enough.
“Why are you behind me?” He demanded, spinning to face the arrancar.
“What?”
Ichigo frowned when he realised that Grimmjow seemed honestly confused. “Walk next to me like a normal person,” he demanded. “I know we’re not exactly friends, but this is ridiculous.”
“I… sorry.”
And the sound of that word falling from Grimmjow’s lips shocked Ichigo speechless for the rest of the walk. But Grimmjow did step up to walk alongside him, which felt far more comfortable than having him trail a pace behind like a demure Meiji-period wife.
"I don't live there anymore, you know," Ichigo felt the need to clarify. "I moved out. But they still like me to visit for dinner, and Yuzu always makes enough for leftovers, and her cooking is much, much better than mine. Honestly the only things I make well are omelettes and instant ramen."
Grimmjow's elbow brushed against his arm as they walked. "Why the fuck are you telling me this, Kurosaki?"
Ichigo shrugged. "Not sure, honestly. It's not a secret or anything though. I have skills, it's just that cooking is not one of them."
"Hollow's don't cook," Grimmjow said flatly. "Not unless you count cero burns as searing."
Ichigo folded his arms behind his head and peered up at the sunset-washed clouds. "I think there's a philosophical argument in there, but I'm too hungry to think properly," he decided as they turned the last corner. The windows of the clinic shone gold and orange in the light of the setting sun, and the camellia bush that Karin had chosen two years earlier was finally flowering in the brick planter by the door.
"I'm home," Ichigo called as they stepped inside. "You got the message about the extra dinner guest, right?"
Karin's head appeared as she lent into the hallway. "Yup, old Sandal-hat called..." her eyes widened as she took in Grimmjow's gigai. "You look different, Arrancar-san."
Grimmjow glanced at Ichigo. "Good different or bad different?" he asked.
Karin stepped fully into the hallway, hands planted on her slender hips. "The blue suits you, but this isn't bad," she decided after a long moment. "Yuzu is super excited to finally meet an arrancar, so try not to make her cry, ok?"
Grimmjow reared back a step. "I... Why would she want to meet me? Hollows are arseholes, she must know that?"
"She gets most of the news from Jinta when he sells her discounted candy in exchange for smiles," Ichigo explained, passing a pair of house slippers to the arrancar. "And he has been known to embellish. I think in her head hollows are terrifying monsters and arrancar are cool."
Karin nodded. "I can see how she would come to that conclusion."
"It's wrong though," Grimmjow objected. "We're all monsters."
"And some monsters are men," Karin pointed out. "Hollows, arrancar or no, don't corner the market on monstrosity. Come on, dinner is nearly ready and I could hear Ichi-nii's stomach growling before you opened the door."
"Hey!" Ichigo objected.
It was supremely surreal, Ichigo would reflect later, to see Grimmjow actually being polite. The surly and brash arrancar treated Yuzu like a princess, calling her Kurosaki-san until she laughingly objected and switching to Yuzu-san only when she threatened to smack him with a wooden spoon coated in curry. He all but crouched down to be on her level, but she wasn't a child anymore and that would have been a step too far.
Isshin was nearly late, but only gave Grimmjow one suspicious glance before launching himself at his son in an attempted headlock. Ichigo avoided him with the ease of long practise. "Ichigoooooo! Bringing dinner guests! Masaki would be so proud!"
Having successfully tripped his father into a swan dive and settled one house slipper on his shoulder blades and the other on his face, Ichigo looked up to see Grimmjow looking in shock from Ichigo's face to the large poster of his mother behind him, the one that Isshin refused to take down. At this point, the dining room would look strange without it.
"Kurosaki, your family is weird," Grimmjow said helplessly.
"Just sit next to Ichi-nii, Grimmjow-san, and ignore them," Yuzu said cheerfully. "Would you like green tea or barley tea? I'm afraid we don't have any beer, Dad finished it last night and I haven't been to the store today. Oh, or I think we have some oolong in the cupboard?"
"Barley tea is fine," Grimmjow assured her as he took the seat she pulled out for him. He kept on glancing between the poster and Ichigo's face, but although the substitute Shinigami braced himself for a question, it never came. Instead, the ex-espada turned to Isshin and said carefully, "thank you for allowing me into your home."
Isshin gazed back equally calmly and nodded once. "Take care not to break it, the contents are precious."
Grimmjow glanced over at Yuzu as she retrieved the jug of chilled barley tea from the fridge and swallowed. "I will," he promised.
"That's enough of that, Karin said decisively as she distributed rice bowls. I have practise early tomorrow morning. Ichi-nii, will you come?"
"What time? I've got work at seven."
"I was going to leave at five." Ichigo wrinkled his nose at the thought and Karin playfully stabbed him with her chopsticks, laughing. "Just say no already!"
"I like spending time with you, but not that much. I'll go to your next match, how about that?"
"Aww, but I was hoping you could give the team some pointers. We've been hopeless since Shiro-kun left."
"Hitsugaya-taicho," Yuzu corrected her as she brought a stack of bowls to the table. "You know it made him so cross when you called him Shiro-kun."
Grimmjow accepted a bowl of rice with a confused frown. "You had a Shinigami captain on your team?" he asked.
The prompt was enough for Karin to launch into the story, and conversation flowed easily after that as they all laughed at the memory.
After dessert - Yuzu had unearthed a tub of ice cream from the depths of the freezer - Grimmjow started to look uncomfortable.
"Is it the gigai? Ichigo asked as they carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen. "Don't ignore it if you feel strange, that thing is experimental after all."
"The gigai is fine, I just... I should be getting back to Hueco Mundo. I have some things to sort out before I come back."
"All right. When do you think you'll be back?" It was the second time Grimmjow had mentioned returning, and part of Ichigo was strangely thrilled at the thought. He had half suspected that after their deciding battle he would never see the arrancar again, which had been a lonely thought.
"A week or so I expect."
"Cool. Say hi to Nell for me. You want me to walk back to the shop with you? Urahara-san can be a lot sometimes."
Grimmjow bared his teeth in a grin. "I can handle the old guy," he promised.
Ichigo saw him to the door instead. "Thanks," he said awkwardly as Grimmjow fussed with his boots. "I mean, I thought that was a pretty good dinner. Maybe we can do it again sometime."
Grimmjow's bright eyes bored into his own. "Whatever you want, King," he said, shifting uncomfortably. Ichigo frowned, certain once again that he was missing something, but before he finished opening his mouth to ask, the door squeaked on overly dry runners and Grimmjow was gone.
Thinking that maybe he would meditate that evening and force some answers out of Zangetsu, Ichigo went to help finish the washing up and collect the leftovers that Yuzu would have already boxed up for him. It was nice to fall back into the routines of home for an evening, although the knowledge that he couldn't just go upstairs and fall into bed, that there was a walk in the cool evening air waiting for him, was a little weighing.
Yuzu and Karin clung when it was time to leave of course, asking him to stay and watch TV with them, Yuzu offering to make up his old bed with fresh sheets, but Ichigo was firm. He had an early start in the morning, teaching a class at Tatsuki's dojo, and it was time to go.
"I'll be back Wednesday?" he offered. "Want me to bring anything?"
Yuzu thought for a moment. "I might make ramen. Bring over some eggs please, Ichi-nii."
"You got it."
Ichigo found himself smiling as he left his old home behind him and headed to the apartment building where he rented a suspiciously cheap flat. He thought that Ishida's dad might have had a hand in it, given that his former classmate and distant cousin also lived in the building, but he was too poor and grateful for the distance from his family to question too hard if the man who was technically related was now taking an interest. It wasn't like he was living in luxury, the place had a kitchenette on the side of the main space, a tiny bathroom with a shower that was almost too small for him and fusuma with a geometric design of interlocking squares that he had used to block off a section for the bedroom. The apartment building did have a full bath in the basement, along with storage units for each flat and a laundry room, and the times that Ichigo had ventured down there he had had the place to himself, but he usually put up with the undersized shower in his flat for convenience.
Yuzu's leftovers went into the under counter fridge, and he took a moment to prep the rice cooker for tomorrow before throwing himself face first on the overly expensive fluffy futon that Tatsuki and Orihime had clubbed together to buy him as a moving in present.
/Quite the day/ Zangetsu chuckled, reminding Ichigo of his vague decision to meditate.
Which made him think of Grimmjow. The battle had been a long one, and although fighting Grimmjow was always tough, if he was honest he had never expected to loose to the blue-haired ex-espada. Grimmjow's reaction afterwards though, that had been strange. He had been oddly subdued, although subdued wasn't exactly the right word.
/Obedient/ Zangetsu offered.
Ichigo scoffed. Obedient wasn't a word that he would ever use to describe Grimmjow. The man hadn't obeyed Aizen, as far as he could tell Grimmjow had never obeyed anyone in his life.
/Yeah, well Aizen didn't do it right, did he? Tricks and subterfuge don't earn the loyalty of someone like Grimmjow/
Ichigo hummed his agreement and reluctantly left his comfortable bed to brush his teeth, knowing from long, bitter experience that he would only regret not doing it in the morning.