Chapter Text
Ichigo isn't an ungrateful person; on the contrary, he's very happy and grateful to be alive every day, hugging his sisters, visiting his mother's grave and seeing his friends — even if there is a thin glass separating their friendship. He is happy to be able to see Urahara, Tessai and Yoruichi, and to occasionally hear about the hunts or missions that the Seireitei ask them to do. He even visited the Visored, at least during his college breaks and while he wasn't interning.
So, yes, he was grateful and appreciated the opportunity to be alive and, somehow, still with his powers. All of them, without exception. Of course, discovering that he carried the power of three races in himself wasn't like finding a winning ticket, but with the time he was given, he managed to assimilate it somehow. Even though Orihime and Uryuu still looked at him strangely when his Hollow mask was on his face or hanging from his hand, or when the bloody red and hollow black of his reiatsu slid down his body, he was still grateful that his Hollow was still alive and safe in his inner world.
Something he heard the people around him complain about constantly, not once or twice, but every time he got into a fight to defend someone else, was that he was in constant struggle, agony and sadness. He didn't understand the warnings most of the time, but he came to understand them when Shirosaki left, leaving his zanpakutou broken and without any power, and when the Zero Division abandoned him in the world of the living after failing in their attempt to find the part of his soul.
He learned, with each fight, that nothing was as expected or proposed in his tactics. Learning in practice was much more painful than in theory and, unfortunately, with losses on both sides of the fight, Ichigo valued peace immensely, even though his hand, his soul, his Hollow and his thirst for fighting begged otherwise.
Peace was welcome and desired.
Well, most of the time he had peace.
Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was the antonym of peace.
Ichigo and Grimmjow weren't friends, and even though Grimmjow screamed in his face at their sparring (a euphemism to hide the aggression and blood exposed when they were in Urahara's bunker) and even when they were together, Ichigo was absolutely certain that they were no longer enemies, not sworn to death. He was keeping his promise, meeting the former Sword whenever possible for a fight. And when he said “whenever possible”, it meant that an angry, grumpy man with a reiatsu wavering between blue and black, heavy and anxious, was hanging out of his apartment window every Saturday weekend demanding a fight.
Ichigo would complain, but it would be hypocritical to be so mean when he was able to use his fights as an escape from the stress of weeks of exams, studies, internships and anything else his mind wandered to. His mind was focused on the man in front of him almost as soon as he realized it. He came to realize that Grimmjow took up a considerable amount of space in his life; for example, Ichigo started leaving bottles of fresh milk with some freshly picked blueberries in his fridge, because the idiot would occasionally stop by his apartment while he was in class to 'see what the human ate in his spare time'. For some silly reason, he discovered that Grimmjow had a few favorite treats. This also included the spicy soup that Yuzu made. And, even though he wasn't such a fan, he always ordered a hefty portion when he visited her family home.
He started leaving thick blankets; some were double: one side with a fuzzy fabric and the other quilted. Ichigo ended up remembering one night, early in his first semester, when Grimmjow showed up at his apartment, took over his bed during his study session and complained bitterly about how bad his blankets were and that they weren't comfortable at all. Ichigo remembers that he smiled about it and even made a joke about the Arrancar being stingy because of his feline side. Ichigo doesn't comment on the fact that he received a claw mark on his thigh and let it heal just because. Grimmjow pretends not to make fun of the mark that the human displays from time to time.
Some accommodations had been altered in recent years, including things that made his apartment less empty and more like a home, but also, most of the changes were to accommodate Grimmjow's surprise visits, which, come to think of it, were very frequent. A new sofa was placed in the living room, but Ichigo accommodated a wool bedspread, on which it was easy for Grimmjow to scratch and destroy whenever he got bored enough to leave his claws visible. Scratchers were hung on some of the walls, which earned Ichigo a good beating from Grimmjow. Ichigo avoided laughing in his face when he found out, but many early mornings he would hear the ropes being scratched, even if only briefly.
He had once considered buying toys for cats, but put it off because, knowing the basics of Grimmjow, he would probably come out of a fight with a broken zanpakutou, a severed arm or a severed head. A smile appeared on his face as he bought a toy mouse for fun, but it was still hidden, next to a closed notebook in his locked desk drawer.
In Ichigo's view, they were small adjustments, although Orihime and Uryuu didn't consider them so, but they didn't push the issue. His sisters, on the other hand, were doubtful, considering that he didn't have a cat in sight, but the simple answer they received was: "He comes occasionally, I don't own him." They dropped the subject and didn't dwell on it.
Grimmjow came and went as he pleased, ended the fight when he thought Ichigo was playing with his attention or not giving his all, scratched him or tore up the pages of his notebook when he canceled a fight because he "needed to study", messed up his sheets, clothes in the closet and even tore up some of the covers when Ichigo started his internship, spending more time smelling of hospitals, medicines, sterile gloves and serums. Grimmjow just shrugged and said it smelled awful.
In any case, things fell into place and Ichigo managed to adjust his routine, balancing his sleepless nights with studying, paying attention and fighting with a completely oblivious Arrancar, visiting his family and successfully avoiding the therapy sessions that Isane had offered years ago. Considering all the captains and lieutenants who avoided the world of the living, she still insisted on maintaining friendly and even therapeutic contact. Urahara was happy to hear this. Despite all the misgivings the former captain had, Ichigo noticed the genuine joy the lieutenant had offered him.
“Few people want anything in return for a kind gesture. Isane wouldn't be Unohana's lieutenant if she wasn't completely capable of doing her job, Kurosaki. Don't misunderstand, not everyone can expel their pain or anger by fighting or fleeing to a quiet place.”
However, Ichigo knew that something was wrong. Not completely, but he could still sense a change, something that was leaving him stuck and behind. It didn't start suddenly; from what he can remember, the first time he noticed something different was after his first sparring match with Grimmjow. The exhaustion was normal, considering that they both fight until they abuse their powers, and, to be honest, following Grimmjow's Resurrection is always fun, even if he has to sleep for several hours after a fight.
Ichigo remembers the exhaustion that followed that night, even after bathing in Urahara's healing hot spring, Tessai having used the Kaido to recover his health, heal him and restore his shihakushou, and having slept as soon as he returned to his body in his apartment. To be honest, all the fights against Grimmjow resulted in a sleepless night, with no dreams or memories of entering his inner world. A few times when Grimmjow showed up just to annoy him also resulted in fatigue, but nothing as intense as during the days of fighting.
Urahara, at first, just comforted him by saying that it was normal, considering that neither of them was training with other stronger ethereals and that they fought once a week or when Ichigo's busy schedule allowed. So it was possible that they just exhausted their powers and reserves whenever they reached their second transformation and used all the power they had already trained with their swords.
However, Ichigo knew that something was wrong. Not completely, but he could still sense a change, something that was leaving him stuck and behind. It didn't start suddenly; from what he can remember, the first time he noticed something different was after his first sparring match with Grimmjow. The exhaustion was normal, considering that they both fight until they abuse their powers, and, to be honest, following Grimmjow's Resurrection is always fun, even if he has to sleep for several hours after a fight. Ichigo believed it, because it made sense. He remembered when the war against Aizen ended; of course, it was more complicated if you took into account his powers slipping through his fingers and going away from him. However, he remembered how tired and sunk each day had been. Those seventeen months had been exhausting; all the guilt and resentment had almost killed him, since he had decided to trust the wrong people. Not that it was his fault; when you're kept in the dark, you can't be blamed for accepting any shred of hope.
Believing this, months passed. The Society of Souls — at least those he had been closest to for a while — visited him sporadically: sometimes he would join Yoruichi and Urahara on visits to the Fifth Division, just to annoy Shinji and Hinamori; sometimes he would drop in for a drink with Shuuhei and Izuru; and once in a while, only when Kenpachi or Renji insisted on training together.
Ichigo accepted it, not least because it was a good choice to show up and be in a place he frequented so much. So it was common for him to come and go; not that he really belonged anywhere, but it was nice to be part of the lives of those he liked and protected. It was comforting.
The pain, fatigue and delay in healing some of the wounds from the fights against Grimmjow took a long time to heal over the following months. And, after two trips to Urahara, Ichigo just gave up, associating it with his tiredness, the lack of fights and the lack of adrenaline in his own soul. Maybe he was just getting tired and slow. It was normal to think so, considering the jokes about his friends no longer feeling the lack of control of his reiatsu, let alone the overwhelming spiritual pressure he always displayed. On the one hand, that tiredness was good; on the other, he knew something was wrong.
Ichigo continued training, fighting and catering to Grimmjow's whims, visiting Hueco Mundo while Orihime helped with the restoration, and going to Seireitei for their forbidden parties or pranks at Byakuya's house — only to be kicked out of the silent mansion — and sharing experiences with Kyoraku, even after her husband's death.
He kept up the pace of his life.
And now, with his internship underway, he had less time with Grimmjow and his training. Of course, he avoided it most of the time, because he still had to be at the hospital on Sunday or Saturday. This wasn't to break his word; on the contrary, he just wanted to keep up his pace in his final year of college, graduate, and manage to be present for the Arrancar again. If possible, even more often in the same week. But, of course, Grimmjow would never understand, since he had always been too extreme about yes or no and never understood about things like "taking a break".
For this reason, it was no surprise that night, just after arriving home from a thirty-six hour internship and sitting down in his bedroom chair to revise the content of the next day's exam, a large cat was on his bed, with a growl present and an annoyed look on its face. Ichigo tried to avoid it, but as soon as he sat down and focused his mind on the book, he could see the blue and black reiatsu in constant motion, as if it were a whip close to him. Apart from that, the growl, completely animalistic, made him a little uncomfortable and upset.
“You're mad.” Ichigo gave up, dropping his pencil into the book, leaning back in his chair and turning it towards the panther version of Grimmjow on his bed. He could see that the white bones, the protective layer of Arrancar's dark fur, were more broken than before. Of course, he didn't understand; even though Shirosaki was laughing inside, he just ignored it.
"Three weeks. You're a little shit, Kurosaki. And also someone who breaks his promise."
Ichigo blinked, anger coursing through his veins, but for a moment he took a deep breath, avoiding an argument that would lead to a fight. Just as the idiot wanted. He just stared at the panther lying on his blanket, licking its paws; the blood between its nails drew a scowl from him.
"I told you, I'm running out of time. This is my last year, so take this shit or go back to your sand world and fight what you find there."
A loud growl sounded, but was soon interrupted.
Ichigo stared into the blue eyes; the pair of eyes went through an angry, scowling, glaring look, but soon returned to a look of disdain that he knew well. The shinigami saw the panther run to the window, but then he turned his face away, and he could see the teeth stuck in his mouth before he spoke.
"You stink. Disgust me."
Ichigo blinked and, when he came to his senses, he saw that Grimmjow had disappeared from in front of him, from his room and from his apartment. Trying to trace the reiatsu, he found nothing but the light breeze of Karakura and the faint human souls. He didn't think about it; he just sighed, returned his body to the table and focused on his book. Yeah, he'd have to finish it soon if he wanted to draw some blood from his favorite enemy.
Ichigo woke up with a burning sensation in his throat and body. Startled, he woke up coughing frantically, without even realizing where he was. As he coughed, he squeezed his throat, feeling the taste of blood come out with whatever he was expelling. He still kept his eyes closed as he spat and continued to expel from his body.
As his breathing quickened and his hand loosened its grip on his neck, Ichigo slowly opened his eyes.
At first, he could see blue petals with blood on them in front of him. There were several petals. He was surprised, feeling his eyebrows arch at the sight in front of him. His second perception was of blue glass under the petals and the blood, and from what he remembered, it was of his buildings scattered in his inner world.
As he opened his mouth to say something, he felt a hand cover his eyes and push his head back to the ground, but before he felt the hardness of the building, he felt a warmth and comfort. When the hand left his eyes, he saw Shirosaki staring at him. Ichigo could see the long white hair over his shoulder, the golden eyes, the frown apparent on his face and the curved body. It was then that he realized he was lying on his Hollow's lap.
"What-"
"You're dying."
Ichigo didn't even finish his sentence, blinking at what came out of Shiro's lips. He stared into the golden eyes, which were still gazing at him, but without a glint of amusement or playfulness. Ichigo bit his lip, hoping to start a fight. But when he heard the sigh and saw his eyes close as he lowered himself even further and pressed their foreheads together, silence overtook them both.
"You're an idiot."
"Said the idiot," Ichigo grumbled, watching the golden eyes closer to his, avoiding turning away. "Why do you care?"
"You said you didn't need love."
"So what?"
"I didn't expect you to fall in love."
"I didn't fall in love."
"Yes, you did."
"Of course, with whom?" Ichigo rolled his eyes, looking at Shirosaki again, with a smile on his face that was then undone when he saw his irritated face. "Shiro, what the fuck?"
"You never fell in love."
Ichigo blinked once, twice, three times, before staring into the saddened golden eyes. He imagined that something was off, but he didn't know what. And, following that idea, he just looked and carried on with whatever it was.
Shirosaki muttered something, but didn't say anything else. He walked away from Ichigo, letting his head and back fall against the glass of the building. But before Ichigo could complain, the Hollow approached him, hugging his body, resting his chin against his chest and letting his head rest under his chin. A purr sounded from the Hollow's chest as it hugged Ichigo's body tighter.
"You're dying."
"You and Grimmjow say that, but I still don't understand."
"You love a Hollow."
Ichigo felt his body tense, but then relax, as his eyes closed and he hugged his Hollow even tighter.
"Yes, I love him, so what?"
"I should rip him in half; it's killing you."
"You still say that."
"You act like you don't care."
"Since when do you care if I die?"
"Since when do you let me take over your life?"
There was silence, leaving them both unresponsive and avoiding the answer.
"Why do you care about him?"
"He's lonely like me."
"That's no reason to love someone."
"I love you."
"I'm your half; it's only natural that you love me."
"I hated you for a long time."
"I was forced to be taken away from you."
"Don't lie."
"I'm not."
"Don't lie to me, Shirosaki."
The growl in his tone made Shirosaki shiver and move even closer to him, hugging his body tighter and remaining silent.
"Don't die."
"I won't."
"You will. You're not ready to forget Grimmjow."
"What's he got to do with it?"
"What do you think the blue petals mean?" Ichigo took a deep breath, avoiding the golden gaze and directing his gaze to the bloody petals beside him. An ache squeezed his heart; perhaps he was that selfish. How much did he love Grimmjow without knowing it?
A laugh sounded from him, a broken laugh, close to a struggling hollow. Maybe he wasn't so different from the Hollows.