Work Text:
Koi to Koi
恋 と 鯉
***
Late July, and Grimmjow’s sweating his ass off in ugly as sin waders, up to his thighs in pond water. When he got his degree in marine biology, he wasn’t exactly planning to use it to end up babysitting some rich bitch’s prize pet, but student loans won’t pay themselves off.
“Oi! Ponyo!” Grimmjow yells. “Get over here!”
Somewhere off in the far end of the pond there’s an agitated slap of a tail. Grimmjow is never sure if the overgrown minnow actually knows he’s being insulted, or if he just doesn't like Grimmjow’s vibes. Wouldn’t be the first time.
It’s hotter than Sacramento today. Grimmjow would know, he texted Nelliel earlier to gloat, as pyrrhic as the victory is. Everything about him is a gross haze of humidity and sweat, and he feels disgusting . All he wants is a beer and a cold shower, but he’s gotta feed this asshole first. So naturally, the fucker is going to be difficult.
Another splash, this one closer. Still no sign of the little shit though.
“Come on, Ariel, I don’t have all day. You got to the count of five, then you ain’t getting dinner.”
A third, closer splash is the only warning he has before wet arms covered in shimmering scales close around his waist and drag him down. Grimmjow manages to take a hasty gulp of air before he hits the water.
The problem, Grimmjow thinks morosely, is that koi are basically over-hyped carp, and if you leave a carp to its own devices for a while, it'll become a monster. Scale that up to human size, and that's a lot of fish currently pinning him to the slick bottom of an ornamental pond. He squints up through a haze of gold and copper and manages to get enough momentum to slam a fist into the asshole’s side. He knows from bitter experience that if the damn fish doesn’t want to move, it’ll take nothing short of a forklift to make him.
The weight rolls off him and Grimmjow surfaces, coughing up a lungful of water and swiping his wet hair out of his face. One piece peels away to flop in front of his eyes and he grimaces.
“I’m here ten minutes after I was supposed to leave, feeding your fat ass, and this is the thanks I get?” He complains.
Brown eyes watch him from just above the waterline, right out of reach, crinkling at the corners. Fucking fish is laughing at him.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Grimmjow growls, staggering to his feet. “The whole point of the waders is so you don’t fuck up my clothes.”
He at least had the common sense to leave his phone a good distance away from the edge of the pond, because bullying Grimmjow by trying to drown him is the asshole's favorite game. Grimmjow's relatively sure it's the fish bastard's idea of playing and not an actual murder attempt at this point.
The form that slides through the water to tug teasingly at Grimmjow's clothes is long and scaled, up until it abruptly becomes soft and human. The fish half is sleek and sturdy, scales a fiery red-orange intermingled with pitch black. The scales run up his arms and over his back as well, matching long copper hair and thin fins where a human’s ears would be. The human half is, as far as Grimmjow can tell, male - although who really knows with fish and sexual dimorphism. He doesn’t look older than Grimmjow himself, with a sharp jawline and surprisingly expressive features.
Goddamn mermaid in a fishpond. Freshman Grimmjow would never have believed it.
From a scientific point of view, he's fascinating- a fairytale made manifest. From an aesthetic perspective even Grimmjow - who has been told by Nell on multiple occasions that he doesn't have a single ounce of art in his soul - can grudgingly admit he's captivating.
Unfortunately, Ichigo is also a menace to society at large, and Grimmjow in particular.
“You want food or not?” Grimmjow demands, shucking his shirt over his head to wring it out pointedly. It’s probably a wasted effort, since Ichigo seems to think it’s funny to see how many times he can get Grimmjow face first in the pond. Unlike Grimmjow, who hates any temperature over seventy, hot weather just ups the damn fish's already-feisty temperament into "absolute chaotic bastard" territory.
A fish is still a fish though, and the mention of food redirects the slimy little shit from making a grab for Grimmjow’s pants again almost immediately.
Learning what to feed a damn mermaid had been kind of an adventure - koi are usually bottom feeders, but Ichigo’s got a mouthful of sharp teeth that point towards a taste for something more lively then dragonfly larvae or plant bits. Grimmjow’s started from the basics and found that while Ichigo will eat pretty much anything a human would, he has a particular fondness for seafood, especially if Grimmjow makes it spicy. It doesn’t help that the rich bitch who technically employs him sneaks the little bastard snacks at every opportunity.
Ichigo drifts over to the shallower end of the pond, already making a grab for the box of food Grimmjow left deliberately out of reach. The gills on his sides flutter, startlingly black against relatively fair skin. Grimmjow hasn’t managed to figure out if there’s gills on the fish half as well. Ichigo doesn’t seem to be bothered by being out of the water for extended periods of time. The only real way to know for sure would be a dissection and that’s….. Not nearly as appealing a prospect as it was when he first took this job.
Ichigo huffs and glares at Grimmjow over his shoulder. Grimmjow glares right back.
“What? You want it, you know how to get it.”
Ichigo sighs with completely unnecessary drama and heaves himself far enough out of the water to reach the food. Grimmjow wades back over, now that the upper part of the fish tail is out of the water. He got eel today, which is likely to keep Ichigo’s attention for a while.
There’s a series of cuts on the back of Ichigo’s tail, near the long dorsal fin. Grimmjow’s not quite sure where they came from - his best guess is that something fell in the pond and Ichigo either tried to help it, or tried to eat it. Ichigo’s cagey about letting Grimmjow near the wounds though.
“How’re they looking?”
Grimmjow doesn’t look up at his boss’s voice, though he can see the edge of her yellow sundress from the corner of his eye.
Kuchiki Rukia is six tons of attitude crammed in a six ounce body, covered up with a thin veneer of ladylike behavior proper of the younger sister of Kuchiki Byakuya, recently named Japan's richest man. She’s also got a filthy mouth Grimmjow’s former drill sergeant would’ve wept with pride about, for all that she tries to hide it.
Grimmjow avoids the elder Kuchiki, largely because he knows damn well his ability to keep his mouth shut around rich assholes is tenuous at best and he's got student loans to pay off. The mouth is the root of all evil, his mentor was fond of saying, before going into an excruciatingly detailed description of hagfish mouth parts, or whale falls, or anglerfish mating habits. Urahara Kisuke might be a brilliant scientist, but if Grimmjow wasn't so against ocean pollution he would've thrown the man into the sea a hundred times over by now.
The cuts are healing fine, although the dumbass is going to have some silly looking bald patches until his scales grow back in. He looks up to say as much only to find that Kuchiki has brought a slightly tattered blanket out with her and is in the act of spreading it out. She gives him a look he’s learned to read as her “I’m not going to suggest you do something, I’m going to tell you to do it” staredown. Fucking hell.
“No.” He growls before she can even start. She may be his boss but he’s worked for her long enough that they’ve reached an understanding. She doesn’t fire him for his attitude problem, and he doesn’t tattle to her brother for hers.
“Don’t be such a downer, Jaegerjaquez. Your train runs until three in the morning, you can afford to stop and have a drink with your generous boss.” She holds up a pale pink bottle and shakes it enticingly. “I even swiped a bottle of the good sake from Nii-sama’s stash.”
“Don’t you have friends you can annoy instead?” He’s fighting a rearguard action here, but he’s not gonna give in that easily.
“ You don’t have friends.” Kuchiki sniffs. “Shut up and be grateful I’m taking pity on you.”
She’s right, but it’s rude to come out and say it like that. Grimmjow’s never been one to get attached to people. He can count on one hand the number of people he talks to on a regular basis now that he’s out of the military, and to his vast misfortune, Kuchiki and her conniving ways are one of them.
……It is pretty good sake though.
Kuchiki settles daintily on the blanket, tucking her legs demurely under her. It lasts for approximately five minutes before she’s sprawled on her stomach to show Ichigo something on her phone. Classy lady, Grimmjow’s ass. Ichigo’s mostly on land at this point, tail fins idly swishing in the pond. He freckles like a normal human, which never fails to distract Grimmjow when he’s trying to do something else.
“You’re going to turn into a dried sardine.” Grimmjow tells the fish acidly. Ichigo just flips him off without looking.
“ You taught him that.” Kuchiki says accusingly.
“Like hell I did, he already knew it when you hired me.” Giving up, Grimmjow pries himself out of the waders and throws himself onto the blanket with the manzai duo supreme. At least it’ll give him time to dry out before he has to get on a crowded rush-hour train for forty minutes. He gets enough weird looks for being foreign with dyed hair, he doesn’t need to be moist on top of it.
“Your sister is still coming to visit in a couple days, right?” Kuchiki asks. Ichigo drapes himself across Grimmjow’s legs so he can steal rice crackers. Grimmjow has given up hope of ever having feeling in his feet again.
“Yeah.” He grunts. “Gotta pick her up real damn early from the fuckin’ airport.”
“Cringe.” Kuchiki replies so calmly Grimmjow has to do a double take. She tilts her phone to show Ichigo a video of what looks like some guy making…a telescope from chocolate? Where the hell does she find this stuff?
It’s kind of nice, though, to sit in the shade with a bottle of good sake, even if having a metric ton of fish in his lap means he may never walk again. For all he complains, Kuchiki isn’t bad company - she usually just wants to hang out and watch dumb internet stuff with Ichigo, which means Grimmjow can just relax without having to bother making small talk.
The afternoon passes quietly into evening, cicadas giving way to crickets and sunlight to city lights. He manages to coax Ichigo off his lap and back into his pond when Kuchiki has to leave for dinner. The fish is awfully reluctant for somebody who has nothing better to do, but once the sun goes down Ichigo gets sleepy as hell. Grimmjow can’t tell if that’s a fish thing, or an Ichigo thing.
Grimmjow has the next couple days off, which he definitely uses to relax and not try to speedrun making his apartment look like a reasonable place to live and not a crash pad for someone who consistently falls asleep over science journals. Hopefully jet lag will take it out of his sister enough that Nelliel won’t have any smart comments to make.
It’s wishing on a star, and Grimmjow’s never had a head for astronomy.
Monday morning makes Grimmjow wish caffeine IVs were legal, after hauling his ass out of bed at four in the morning to battle Tokyo traffic to pick Nell up from the airport. Naturally, she’d insisted on coming with him to work. Kuchiki had been annoyingly interested in meeting her so he hadn’t really had a way to avoid it.
Nell’s wearing tiny shorts that would’ve been questionable in Sacramento, much less Seireitei’s Rich Fucker Neighborhood, her hair is a seafoam wave, and Grimmjow has to keep glaring at guys who stare at her tits a little too long. Fuck’s sake, being a brother is a pain sometimes.
Nell is unfairly perky for someone who was just on a nine-goddamn-hour flight. She spends the whole train ride from Grimmjow’s apartment to the Kuchiki estate chattering about how many things she wants to see and all the food she wants to eat. He’ll say this for his sister, she’s a creature of simple pleasures. Also it’s really fucking hard to find a good tempura place in the states so she gets a pass. This time.
Kuchiki meets them at the front door, and narrowly avoids getting a facefull of tit when Grimmjow has to grab Nell by the collar and remind her that most people prefer a handshake over being smothered to death for a greeting.
“Well she deserves a hug for putting up with you for so long.” Nell sniffs. Grimmjow seriously considers putting a foot up her ass. It’s a testament to the fact that he actually kind of missed his sister that it’s taken this long for her to test his patience.
“You didn’t tell me your sister was hot.” Kuchiki hisses as soon as Nell’s out of ear shot, tugging at her clothes and patting her hair into order. Grimmjow feigns gagging until she socks him in the ribs. “Stop being a heathen and go be a decent host while I get the snacks.”
“If you feed her, she won’t leave.” Grimmjow warns. “She’s kind of like a raccoon.”
Kuchiki gives him a deeply withering look and Grimmjow leaves while he still has the upper hand in the argument.
Nell is already out in the garden near Ichigo’s pond, admiring the view. It’s all lush green foliage and shimmering water in the summer, and there’s a few actual koi in the pond to keep the mosquito population down. It’s a good testament to what money can build around here - although knowing Kuchiki, the gardens have probably been there since the last time Edo burned.
“Your boss is pretty cute.” Nell informs Grimmjow when he joins her. “You got room for one more? I could use a sugar mommy with these damn student loans.”
“Don’t make me vomit. Also shut up, this is a job. I pay fucking taxes.” And his student loan payments but that’s not the point. He digs in his pockets for a second.“Here, fish food.”
Nell looks at the handful of small green pellets he hands her, and squints suspiciously at him.
“Do you always feed koi wasabi peas?” She huffs when he just waves her towards the pond and walks over to crouch down on the edge.”Do I just throw them in, or..?”
Grimmjow had been counting on Ichigo’s uncanny ability to know when someone has snacks for him to get the fucker’s attention. He’s right of course, since the fish is nothing if not predictable. Ichigo pops up close to the walkway, probably expecting Rukia. Nell shrieks in surprise and falls backwards onto her butt. Ichigo, who’s skittish around new people to begin with, immediately dives for cover.
Grimmjow doesn’t even try to stop the full-body cackling, even though Nell is giving him a very ineffective upside down glare.
“What a shame my dear brother is going to experience a tragic drowning and I’m going to be an only child.” She threatens, rolling to her feet and smacking at her own ass to get any imaginary dirt off.
“The actual mermaid hasn’t managed it yet, good fucking luck.” Grimmjow can see a splash of orange lurking under the footbridge at the far end of the pond. “C’mon, just park it and chill for a bit. He’ll get curious enough to come out eventually.”
Nell huffs, but sits down cross-legged under one of the ornamental trees lining the pond edge. Grimmjow tosses her a can of the weirdest drink he could find in the store. Nell lost her tastebuds years ago, as evidenced by the fact that her eyes light up and she slugs back half the can in one go. Grimmjow folds himself to the ground next to her and opens his own beer.
“Weird, but I think I like it.” Nell decides, studying the can. “So how the fuck did you end up babysitting a mermaid anyway?”
Grimmjow has never realized how long the story is until he has to keep going back and starting earlier and earlier - technically it all started in his freshman year when Urahara Kisuke shoved his stupid frizzy head into Grimmjow’s research and it’s been a downward spiral since then.
The story takes considerably longer than that to lay out, especially since Nell keeps interrupting to ask questions. Ichigo’s been slowly drifting closer as time goes by, though Grimmjow doesn’t think Nell has noticed.
“He’s kind of like a person, right? You don’t think it’s… kind of weird to keep him here?” Nell asks, chewing obnoxiously on a handful of wasabi peas. Grimmjow has no idea why she’s eating them, she has no tolerance for spicy food.
“He isn’t captive or anything, he's a fish . What else is he gonna do with his life?”
“Hmm. Can’t blame him for not wanting to give up the "free food and a hot guy tending to his whims" gig. He's just here to look pretty, eat hot chip, and splash. God, I wish that were me.”
“I have no idea what the fuck you’re saying but I can tell you’ve been spending too much goddamn time on the internet. Go touch grass.”
“Ha! You dare challenge I, Lord of the Memes?” Nell crows, and then ducks rapidly when Grimmjow attempts to sock her in the shoulder. “Okay, okay, fine.”
Nell slings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in, like he hasn’t been taller than her since fifth grade. She’s too warm, and kind of sweaty, and she smells like watermelon and wasabi. Grimmjow is suddenly and abruptly reminded of how long it’s been since he just sat with his sister and did shit all. They’re half a world and two lives apart now.
“I should tell Tier about this.” Nell says thoughtfully, smooshing her cheek against Grimmjow’s hair a little. “She’d think I was insane but I bet she’d love it.”
Grimmjow thinks someone who’s known both of them long enough to be best friends with his sister is nobody to comment on other people’s sanity, but if anybody can deal with Nell’s level of….. Nell-ness, it’s Tier Harribel. Knowing her, she’d probably just start asking for proof like this was a normal thing for someone to tell her.
He fights his way free of Nell’s strong-arm hug and sits upright again. Ichigo’s right by the edge of the pond, watching them with that intense look he gets when he’s not sure how something, or someone, works. He gave Grimmjow that look a lot when he first got hired.
“Oh!” Nell jumps a little. “Hi - Ichigo, right?” Ah, she noticed him. “Sorry I scared you earlier!”
Ichigo looks wary, drifting until Grimmjow is mostly between him and the newcomer. He hauls himself a little bit out of the water, wet shoulder pressing against Grimmjow’s thigh and soaking his pant leg a bit.
Grimmjow snorts, tugging a chunk of ridiculously bright orange hair. “Stop acting cute, Magikarp.”
Ichigo glares at him, digging sharp dark claws into his leg in retaliation.
“I like Magikarp.” Nell huffs, because of course she does. “Hey, wanna hear about the time Grimm fell out of a tree and broke his arm? And then fell out of a window and broke the other one like four hours later?”
Grimmjow rolls his eyes so hard he probably sprained something. Any second-hand embarrassment he might’ve felt over that story is long since gone, since Nell tells it every chance she gets, the brat. Ichigo perks up real fast at the offer though.
“I know I do.” Kuchiki says, stepping out onto the path balancing a large tea tray full of drinks and probably those stupid weird rabbit crackers she likes.
“Up to my damn eyebrows in assholes.” Grimmjow grumbles. Ichigo smirks at him, the damp little shit. He pulls himself higher out of the water to accept a handful of wasabi peas from Nell, which makes her beam like a damn sunburst. Ugh.
Whatever. If it makes the damn fish happy.
***
Autumn brings turning leaves and crisper temperatures, which fill the pond with shades of red and gold and brown. It also brings Pond Cleaning Day.
Pond Cleaning Day is Bath Day for Ichigo, which basically means Grimmjow is in charge of scrubbing down several feet of scales while Kuchiki patiently combs out however many tangles rolling around in the water have left in the dumbass’s hair. It’s ridiculous, but the last time anybody tried to cut Ichigo’s hair they all found out he’s fully capable of putting enough power into his tail to crack ribs.
Grimmjow had fun trying to explain that to his doctor.
To the chagrin of everybody, Pond Cleaning Day also brings around Aizen Sousuke.
Grimmjow’s not really afraid of slime - he wouldn’t be into marine biology if he had issues with it. Aizen, however, is a level of slimeball that not even half-rotting kelp or wet fish can match. It doesn’t help that he’s got some sort of vengeance obsession with Grimmjow’s mentor, while Grimmjow is fairly certain Urahara is only aware of Aizen’s existence in the vaguest of senses.
He kind of wonders if Aizen knows his lab partner Ichimaru has been stealing his research for years.
Aizen’s visits are primarily official - there’d been a big fuss from one of the major universities about something like a mermaid being privately kept and not “available for the study of all” or some bullshit like that. Grimmjow nearly put his fist through Tousen’s face the first time the sanctimonious bastard pulled that line. Fucking hell, the fish is a pain in the ass but he’s not a lab specimen.
Very few people have the balls to try to tell Kuchiki Byakuya what to do though, so all the bullshit professors were forced to sit with their thumbs up their asses until Aizen managed to ooze his way under the door.
Frankly, Grimmjow thinks that they can only get Ichigo to cooperate with these visits when the pond is empty and he literally has nowhere to hide is an indication that Aizen is a detriment and can fuck all the way off, but nobody’s listening to his opinion about it. He’s grudgingly decided that one day of stress for Ichigo is probably better than Aizen just randomly showing up and sliming around the garden until Kuchiki’s redhead yakuza-wannabe…. boytoy? Body guard? He’s never figured out what the exact relationship is there - shows up to chase him off the grounds.
Grimmjow’s elbow deep in soap suds trying to get the damn fish to cooperate long enough for him to get the front of his tail at least passably clean- for some reason the idiot keeps rolling away from him. Kuchiki keeps snickering about it, so Grimmjow’s putting it down to a joke the two of them are in on. Dicks.
Grimmjow doesn’t even look up from manhandling one fin as a long shadow falls over him. Fucking Aizen probably spent like an hour calculating the exact angle he’d have to loom at to be as menacing as possible and Grimmjow refuses to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“Jaegerjaquez-san, Kuchiki-san.” Aizen greets them amiably, with that slightly-too-sharp smile that puts Grimmjow’s hackles right up. Aizen has the messy hair, square glasses, absent-minded professor aesthetic going on, which Grimmjow knows for a fact is bullshit, because he’s seen the man with his hair slicked back in a shitty club and the veneer wears off real fast.
“Aizen-san.” Kuchiki replies with all the icy grace of a woman worth several billion yen.
“And how’s our specimen today?” Aizen asks, leaning over to get a better look at the mermaid sulking on the moss. Grimmjow has to grit his teeth and grab the hose when Aizen reaches for him, otherwise he’s gonna break the fucker’s wrist. Student loans means he can’t afford to get sued.
Ichigo lets out a surprisingly reptilian-sounding hiss, which is the only noise Grimmjow’s ever heard him make other than the occasional chirp. He’s working on a theory that most of Ichigo’s vocalizations are at a frequency lower than humans can pick up, maybe amplified by the water? Shit, it’s in his notes somewhere.
Aizen goes about whatever bullshit tests he does while Grimmjow hoses the last of the suds off - it’s hard to care about the fucker when the freshly cleaned scales gleam like gems. Unfairly pretty motherfucker.
“Alright, sashimi, you’re good.” Ichigo bites him in retaliation for the dumb nickname, but it’s only a love nip, since he doesn’t even draw blood. “Yeah yeah, you’re welcome. Get wrecked.”
Aizen chuckles, which immediately makes Grimmjow want to punch him right in his face.
“I see you two have bonded.” He comments. “When the specimen is moved to the university, I hope you’ll consider at least visiting.”
“‘When’? You been listening to anything I’ve said over the last five years? You take him outta the pond and put him in a tank and he’s gonna start drowning your interns in about ten minutes flat.” Grimmjow says flatly. “You know how much of my job is enrichment? You got the time to have someone stand around arguing about the impact on the thematic pacing of about a hundred useless pages of rigging descriptions in Moby Dick?”
“I have no objections to hiring you on as well, Jaegerjaquez-san, if you’re concerned about your job.” Aizen offers smoothly, picking some imaginary lint off one of his suit sleeves. “University employment offers some good benefits, if you intend to get hired later at a more… reputable institute then private sector work.”
“Yeah, gonna pass.” Grimmjow says flatly. “You can ask Urahara for my notes, but I ain’t interested in working with a bunch of pansy-ass interns who can’t deal with fish guts without squealing.”
“That’s a pity, I was hoping a familiar face around would help the specimen adjust better.” Aizen sighs, but there’s a gleam in his eyes that Grimmjow doesn’t like. “Now, about transport…”
Ichigo, who has both arms wrapped firmly around Grimmjow’s waist and as usual is impossible to move if he doesn’t want to go, just hisses again.
“You’ll forgive me, Aizen-san, but there appears to have been some miscommunication here.” Kuchiki interjects. “As I believe has been discussed before, there is no reason to cause undue stress by removing him to an incompatible environment when it’s perfectly doable to perform any research here.”
Kuchiki’s way better at corporate shit talking then Grimmjow is, and it’s always kind of great to see the way men do a double take when she starts calling them all fucking morons in the politest language possible. Aizen doesn’t disappoint, though he rallies faster than most and plasters on one of those annoying fucking smiles again.
“I have been speaking with Kuchiki Kouga-san, and-”
“Unfortunately, as this is maintained through my own funds, this is purely a matter under my purview.” Kuchiki interrupts sweetly. “Kouga-san has no say here. I have been assured by both Professor Urahara and Jaegerjaquez-san that a more relaxed environment rather than a university lab is preferable for maintaining health. I’m afraid I will have to defer to their judgment in this matter.”
“You can’t possibly-”
“Ichigo will not be removed from the Kuchiki estate.” Kuchiki says, voice cold as a blizzard. She’s probably about five seconds away from physically throwing Aizen over the garden wall herself. “That is my final word on it. You may speak to Byakuya-nii-sama if you have further concerns.”
Ichigo looks delighted. Clearly, he’s following the thread of the conversation just fine. Kuchiki pets his hair a little, clearly dismissing Aizen, and Ichigo butts his head into her hand. Cheesy dumbasses, both of them.
Aizen’s eyes narrow and his mouth works as he tries to find another angle, clearly not expecting to be so completely cock-blocked. Can’t blame the guy, anybody who only deals with Kuchiki Kouga would have no idea how much stubborn pride a real Kuchiki has. Grimmjow’d almost feel sorry for him if he wasn’t such a fuckhead.
“Kuchiki-san, perhaps we-” He starts to say.
“Pond’s full!” One of the garden workers yells from across the way. Ichigo gives Aizen another furious hiss and dives for safety, sending a huge wave cascading over the side and clipping the fucker with his tail as he goes. Aizen staggers back, slips on a mossy rock, and lands on his ass.
“Sorry about that.” Grimmjow says with patently false politeness. “Gets real slippery around here when the fish starts splashing . Think we’re done here, Professor.”
Aizen scrambles to his feet, but Grimmjow just cracks his knuckles menacingly. “Go ahead, keep going. I got a lot less patience than Kuchiki, and a lot less for you to sue outta me. Try it.”
By that point, Abarai has shown up, and Aizen has no choice but to leave, soaking wet and thoroughly thwarted. Grimmjow might even drop a line to Kisuke about it, really fuck up Aizen’s day.
“Classless thug.” Kuchiki says, sounding deeply fond.
“Prissy bitch.” He shoots back. She just rolls her eyes. Grimmjow looks over the top of her head.
“Shithead at ten o’clock. Can I just punch this one instead of listening to you corporate-talk his bitch ass into the ground?”
Kuchiki turns around and winces as the other asshole variable in a shithead equation starts stomping across the grounds like a toddler having a tantrum.
“Tempting.” She sighs. “Very tempting. I think I’d have to fire you, though.”
Kuchiki Kouga is the prime example of everything wrong with old money and old pride. He’s only the head of one of the branch families, but he acts like he’s got bigger balls then he does. It doesn’t help that he hates Grimmjow’s foreign punk ass.
His Kuchiki puts herself between him and Asshole Kuchiki, as if her ten-pounds-soaking-wet self is gonna protect him.
“How many times do I have to tell you, enough of this nonsense.” He seethes. “It’s a waste of time and money, and you should be doing better things.
“This is my responsibility, Kouga-san.” Kuchiki says. “I’m not using family funds, and I’m not taking time away from my other obligations.”
“This isn’t up for debate. Leave the mucking around with animals to the experts.” He sneers.
“Student loans say that’s what I am.” Grimmjow interrupts. Kuchiki tries to elbow him out of the way. He ignores her despite the fact that she has elbows like icepicks. Asshole Kuchiki stares
“This is family business, boy. Stay out of it.”
“Interesting, considering I told you the last time we had this discussion that it wasn’t your business.” Kuchiki Byakuya, probably fetched by Abarai, steps onto the porch. To Asshole Kuchiki’s minimal credit, he’s one of the few people Grimmjow seen who doesn’t immediately quail under the unimpressed stare of a man who could probably literally get away with murder.
“You’re indulging her too much-”
“I believe I am still the head of this family, Uncle,” Kuchiki says sternly, hands tucked into his kimono sleeves in the most pretentious way possible. “Rukia’s personal affairs are none of your concern, and if it were, I would expect you to speak to me about it, rather than go behind my back.” Like a coward goes unsaid, but is heard by everybody anyway.
Asshole Kuchiki looks furious, and Grimmjow’s probably gonna have to double down on checking the pond water for contaminants after this, but in the end tradition wins over ego and he bows a little, gritting out a quiet “Of course, Byakuya-sama.”
The line of Kuchiki’s shoulders visibly relaxes as Asshole Kuchiki leaves, also completely thwarted but significantly less wet.
“I expect you will let me know if you continue to have problems with your work here.” Kuchiki says sternly - to Grimmjow or Rukia is unclear, but Asshole Kuchiki clearly is still within hearing range, because the fucker’s pace picks right up at the unvoiced threat.
“Of course, Nii-sama.” Kuchiki says hurriedly, still looking stressed. “Thank you for your assistance.”
“Hey Kuchiki, good thing Kuchiki was here to save you from Kuchiki.” Grimmjow says as blandly as possible, and smirks when he gets a deeply annoyed look in return.
“Just call me Rukia already, Jaegerjaquez.” She says wearily. “It’s easier than getting you to use honorifics and you’re giving me a migraine with all these Kuchikis.”
“Ice princess.”
“ Wrong .”
“I believe this will be beneficial to your future studies, Jaegerjaquez-san.” Kuchiki interrupts smoothly, as if he didn’t just send his uncle possibly packing to flee the country. He sounds faintly exasperated as he hands Grimmjow a book, and leaves. Grimmjow frowns at his retreating back. Kuchiki is a fucking peice of work, all right.
“What did Nii-sama give you?” Rukia asks curiously, peeking around his arm. Grimmjow shrugs and looks down.
It’s a beginner’s guide to basic sign language.
Grimmjow looks at Rukia.
Rukia looks at him.
“Not a fucking word .” Grimmjow warns. Her mouth quivers with a barely suppressed smile.
“We have two and a half masters degrees between both of us, you’ve been working here for five years, and neither one of us ever even considered we could teach Ichigo sign language. If I don’t laugh, I’m going to weep over my own incredible idiocy, so you’ll excuse me a reasonable chuckle.”
“Just call yourself a dumbass and be done with it. Can’t fucking believe we didn’t think of it.”
“I’m a dumbass.” Rukia sighs, which surprises a laugh out of him. “Well, we might as well get started.”
She has her phone out, probably looking up supplementary resources. He’ll say this for her, he’s never known Kuchiki Rukia to half-ass anything that matters to her.
Tucking his electronics into his jacket and slinging it safely over a tree, Grimmjow pulls off his shoes and socks and rolls up his pant legs, wading into the pond. Ichigo’s sulking just beyond the shallow part, he can see the dumbass glaring at him from under a lillypad.
“Oi, Goldeen, get over here.” Grimmjow yells. “I got a new project for your dumb ass.”
He’s not surprised in the slightest when Ichigo’s reaction is to yank him down into the deep part of the pond. Teeth at his throat, sunlight hazy through a cloud of copper, heavy muscle pinning him down…. Man, if anybody thinks a fat paycheck is worth trading this in for a sterile lab and a bunch of science creeps being voyeurs, they’re outta their minds .
Too bad he needs to breathe.
Grimmjow shoves his hand into Ichigo’s hair and grabs a handful, yanking until the idiot lets him surface. He only gets far enough to get his head out of the water before Ichigo’s practically climbing him, tail thrashing and teeth bared, clearly unhappy.
“Will you chill out? I’m not going anywhere, you scaly shit.” On impulse, Grimmjow shoves Ichigo’s bangs out of his face to plant a kiss on his forehead. It’s a disgustingly mushy gesture and if anybody asks he will deny, deny, deny. Damn fish brings out the worst in him. “Now shut up and get out of the water so I can teach you how to cuss properly.”
Wide brown eyes stare up at him and Grimmjow takes advantage of Ichigo’s shock to jerk his legs out from under his tail.
Predictably, the minute he goes to stand up and get out of the pond, the fucker grabs him and pulls him right back in. At this point, being dry is a distant dream. But there’s wet hands on his face, and a wet mouth on his and yeah, guess there are some things you just don’t need words for.