Angry at the World

Ichigo sat on his bed, reading, while music blasted in his ear buds. He wasn’t really into popular music or doing his homework, but at the moment he was reading for school and tapping his foot to the beat of the music. He looked up briefly and scowled when he noticed the blue-haired Espada enter his room, but he appeared preoccupied and Ichigo didn’t feel like getting his attention. It was nice to have silence when the bastard was around, for once.

Of course, it wouldn’t be Grimmjow if he didn’t do something eventful. He grabbed Ichigo’s towel and began to strip off his clothes. The strawberry’s face began to redden until it clashed terribly with his hair, and his eyes snapped back down to his book. He would not be caught looking, even if the Arrancar’s back was amazingly admirable. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief when Grimmjow left without stripping off his boxers, writing off the loss of his towel as fair exchange for no embarrassing commentary. He hadn’t settled down to reading again for long before his substitute Shinigami badge began to flash. One interruption after another.

The redhead set down his book carefully and yanked on his ear bud cords, popping them out from his ears. He pressed the badge to his chest and stepped out of his body. With a push of the window and a quick jump, he was gone.

He flitted from building top to building top. He didn’t think the Hollow was very powerful, and he heard its screams before he saw it. He landed in front of it and drew Zangetsu from his back, grimly preparing to kill it. Slim pickings, Ichigo thought. The worm-like Hollow screamed again in defiance at the Shinigami in front of it, and slithered down the street with furious speed. Contrary bastard. With Shunpo, he was a black and orange blur running alongside the slimy creature. It whipped its tail at Ichigo and missed, crashing through the middle of a building. The teen made a “tsk” sound and leapt to decapitate it; the hollow bunched up its muscles and shot forward, leaving Ichigo only a severed tail.

“Stay still, dammit!” He cried out of frustration. It was times like these that he really wished he knew how to use Kidou, or had a Zanpakuto like Rukia’s, one with a special skill other than mass destruction. Still he chased the monster, careful to avoid its seemingly acidic trail. The corroding slime left tar bubbling in its wake and gave off a pungent odor.

As the destruction around them increased, Ichigo’s mouth set in a grim line. He needed to finish this quickly before any other lives were involved, even if it meant a little more property damage. With a quick burst of speed and as powerful a jump he could manage, he was in front of the Hollow. It rose up like a snake and opened its mouth to roar, while Ichigo held his Zangetsu steady behind him, ready to blast it with his reiatsu.

Before Ichigo could take action, the Hollow’s mask was slashed in half mid-roar, and the writhing body flashed and disappeared. The redhead whipped his head around to see the source of the violence and his eyes widened. His classmate, Hirako Shinji, floated in the air above him with a long, thin sword resting on his shoulder. A Zanpakuto?! That isn’t possible…!

“Ah, guten abend Kurosaki-kun! How are you today?” Hirako Shinji said with his winsome and bizarre smile. “You should be faster when dispatching that kind of thing, you know.”

“Hirako?! The…Hell are you doing here!? And why do you have that!?” Ichigo demanded, and pointed at his classmate’s sword.

“No hello? No how do you do? Ah, well, we might as well get to the crux of the matter. You don’t waste any time at all,” he replied casually. “Well, Ichigo, let me ask you something first… Does this look familiar?” Hirako asked, and drew a bone-white mask from behind his head. A mask. A Hollow mask, just like mine. That…That isn’t… The strawberry’s eyes were still wide in his suddenly pale face.

“How? …You couldn’t possibly,” the teen said disbelievingly. Shinji was across from him in a moment, sword sparking against Zangetsu in a sharp display of power. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“It’s time to believe it. I’ve come to recruit you, Ichigo. I am a Vaizard; a Shinigami who has acquired the power of a Hollow. Don’t be clueless,” his classmate said, suddenly serious and deadly. Ichigo yelled and shoved Hirako away from him with a swing of his sword.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” He demanded.

“I said, don’t be clueless! You’re too good for those pesky Shinigami you hang with,” Hirako said while wagging a finger, joviality back. “You belong with stronger people like us. Where you can—“

“Hell no!” Ichigo growled. Hirako blinked in confusion.

“…What?”

“I said hell no!” the strawberry repeated himself brashly, and shouldered his sword. “I don’t want anything to do with creepy wizards--”

“Vaizard!”

“’N shit, I’m stayin’ with the Shinigami ‘cause I am a Shinigami! Now take your freaky mask and back off!” For good measure, the redhead flipped the blond the bird, and jumped away.

“…W-wait Kurosaki! Come back, I’m not done!” Hirako held his hand out in vain. “We…we have cookies…” He dropped his head. “Hiyori-san is going to kill me,” he said mournfully.

~

When Kurosaki returned home, street lights were on and the moon was already high in the sky. He had taken his time getting home, using the trip as a chance to think. As usual, he hadn’t thought of much that wasn’t distressing, or reinforcement for him to become better. He stepped on the windowsill and hopped inside. Moonlight shined in to illuminate a note pinned to the clothes of his empty body. The strawberry frowned and bent down to read it. It had an angry face next to the message.

“Hey stupid Shinigami! I decided not to draw shit all over your face while you were gone, and I think I deserve some credit. Peace, GJJJ,” Ichigo rolled his eyes and crumpled up the note before stepping into his body. Stupid bastard, he thought, and looked over at the sleeping Grimmjow. He was shirtless and probably pants less too, he thought with irritation. As much as the redhead would deny it to everyone else, it was hard to pry his eyes away from the Espada’s form. Ichigo walked over to the pallet to pull Grimmjow’s sheets up to his chin to ease the distraction.

The Espada was sprawled out on his back; one arm extended past his head, and face resting on one side on the pillow. The hateful lines around his eyes and brow were gone, and his face was smooth, expression unconcerned. Ichigo felt as if a ghost were pressing on his chest, suppressing his breath. He didn’t feel rational. He felt harsh, fizzling, burning behind his cheekbones. That’s why he couldn’t help himself.

The teen fell to his knees, quietly. He would touch only lightly, just a curious examination. It wasn’t wrong. The one thing he could never stop staring at were the Arrancar’s arms. His forearms, his hands, especially. He had never known anyone else to be attracted to that part of the body, but he couldn’t help it. Grimmjow’s were muscled, strong. The tendons strained through skin to support his raw and rough hands. Ichigo traced his fingers delicately along the Espada’s palm and forearm as if they were porcelain. The light shining through the window cast a glow that made it seem as if they were, but they were not nearly so smooth.

Its strange to see his face so absent of expression, and calm, Ichigo thought. It wasn’t really Grimmjow; wasn’t really as attractive without his customary disdain and intense emotion. With a shaking hand he touched his cheek, then his jaw. Ichigo scolded himself for acting like a stupid, nervous little schoolchild. He was terrified that the blue-haired man would wake and catch him. He wasn’t sure why it would be so awful, or what he would say, but he simply couldn’t let it happen.

Nevertheless, fear did not stop the redhead. The only person he had kissed was Suzuki. The dancer was good-looking and kind, with a mischievous personality. Ichigo didn’t regret what he’d done with him, but… He didn’t want that to be his only kiss. And for once, he wanted to initiate it.

Part of his brain yelled at him, wondering what the hell he was doing. Ichigo ignored it, even though his body screamed in tension along with it. He lowered his face until it was just above the Espada’s lips. He couldn’t be taunted or seduced for something the blue-haired bastard didn’t remember. He pressed his lips against Grimmjow’s, and instantly pulled away. Ichigo watched him suspiciously, but the Arrancar didn’t stir.

The worst thing was that it didn’t feel right. Their lips had barely bumped together before fear stung the teen into pulling away. I just… want to know a little more. It doesn’t mean anything. He won’t wake up. The justifications continued. The strawberry knelt down once more next to the infuriating, handsome, maddening, somehow charming man he couldn’t stop thinking about, and kissed him. His nerves rang in alarm, but he didn’t pull away. He adjusted for another kiss, opening his mouth and deepening their contact. One more kiss and he pulled away slowly, lips wet and breath hot. Shit. Desire struck Kurosaki’s abdomen almost painfully, building and confusing him. Ichigo knew that was it, he was done, but god above did he want to kiss him again and touch him. The redhead touched his burning cheeks; if stealing a kiss from Grimmjow felt so good, what would anything else feel like? I shouldn’t wonder.

Ichigo rose quickly, trying to forget his body’s already burning memories. Quickly he threw his clothes in the corner and settled into his bed. He tried fervently to think of something, anything else, but once again, the substitute Shinigami did not sleep peacefully.

~

Kurosaki Ichigo skipped school that day. As soon as Grimmjow was out of sight, he was off. He had too much shit to deal with today, and he did not want to talk to Hirako, Renji or Grimmjow. Not today.

Walking around Karakura in his uniform during school hours didn’t attract as much attention as he thought it might. He walked around the shopping center and enjoyed lunch by himself at a little sandwich shop. Eventually, he made his way to the fields where Karin usually played soccer with her friends and lay down in the grass.

There weren’t any kids there, and the only noticeable noise was the stiff breeze whispering through the grass.
Peace…It’s always, always completely temporary. He sighed heavily. I wish I’d asked Chad along… He understands without talking. Or maybe even Ishida. I just need to work things out somehow. This thing with Grimmjow… It is so completely beyond me. I know what’s right and wrong, but… goddamn, more than ever it seems like it doesn’t matter. I hate him. But then he’s everything that I… His orange hair wisped in front of his eyes, and he closed them. He’s… so much like me. And I’ve never wanted…I’ve never wanted anyone. And I want him. I really, really want him. It’s humiliating.

…I haven’t even thought about if dad fucking finds out. God, nothing in my life is simple. No, he’ll probably just be disgustingly enthusiastic about it. …So I still want to avoid that moment as long as possible. God, I’m assuming that something is going to happen! Ichigo groaned and mussed his hair in frustration. I tell myself, wait long enough, he’ll get bored, leave. Then I think about what life would be like if he did leave, and I… find myself not enjoying that possibility. It just…can’t happen though, he decided grimly. No matter if I want him…or like him… He’s an Arrancar, one of Aizen’s Espada, the enemy. One day it’d be his life or my friends…and I don’t want that situation to ever be possible. I know what he would choose. If… if Aizen ever knew…

…Besides. He…He’d probably just want…sex once or twice and be finished with me. To think a monster like Grimmjow could love anyone is laughable.

Ichigo sat up, eyes lowered to the ground. Thinking his situation through hadn’t yielded answers that he liked, but they were answers, and he’d have to deal with his reality. The painful, frustrating reality that he hated himself for not seeing sooner.

~

A strike of conscience inspired Ichigo to return to school just before it ended. He thought he owed somereassurances to Inoue, at the very least. He paused just outside the school grounds to examine a motorcycle parked on the sidewalk and quirked an eyebrow. The redhead didn’t think he knew any students who came to school that way. After a moment, he walked onto the grounds and waited, as the final bell rang and students slowly began to file out.

“Kurosaki-san!” a girl shouted. Ichigo turned towards the musical voice and blinked. He recognized her, but as he fumbled in his mind to remember her last name, he recalled that Ishida had never told him.

“Uh…Danna?” he said tentatively. She beamed.

“I’m very happy to see you Kurosaki-san, you see…” Ichigo studied her. It sounded as if Ishida really had been teaching her Japanese—Leave it to him to not take advantage of “study sessions,” he thought with a smirk. She was as pretty as he remembered, but looked as if she hadn’t gotten much sleep. She wore a tight leather jacket, and cradled a helmet in one arm.

“Whoa, that motorbike outside is yours?” He asked incredulously. “Isn’t it a little big?” Annoyance crossed her features briefly before her smile returned.

“Yes, it is mine. But Kurosaki-san…”She began.

“I’m impressed. I think you’re more of a man than Ishida now,” Ichigo said, craning his head to get another look at the bike. She laughed weakly.

“I’ve been trying to get him to drive it, but Uryuu seems to think it is unsafe.”

“Hey!” Renji shouted. He was exiting the school, along with most of the gang. That included, to Ichigo’s displeasure, Hirako Shinji. “Aren’t you that burlesque chick?!”

“Burlesque chick!?” Rukia squeaked.

“Burlesque chick?” Grimmjow asked with a grin.

“Uh, yes, I guess that is me, but Abarai-san,” Danna tried to say pleadingly.

“Hey, psst, why haven’t you gotten Ishida to loosen up yet?” Renji asked behind his hand in a secretive manner, very loudly.

“You’re Glasses’ girlfriend?” Grimmjow asked. He looked her up and down and whistled, and she began to look distressed.

“May we talk about this later? I really need to--”Danna began again, only to be interrupted by the Espada again.

“I guess I can see why they were heckling him about you-- you’re not too shabby,” he said, still appraising her. Ichigo scanned the group for signs of Ishida, and realized with a sinking feeling why Danna was probably there. Now that Ishida’s Quincy powers were gone, anything could have happened. The last interruption seemed to be the final straw, and the singer covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. Grimmjow was nonplussed. “Uh… It was supposed to be a compliment…” Renji muttered something along the lines of “women,” earning a glare from Rukia.

“Oh no, you poor thing,” Inoue said, and stepped forward and put her arms around Danna. The taller girl rested her forehead on Orihime’s shoulder and began to babble in English. “It’s okay, calm down,” she said worriedly. “I…slow down please; my English isn’t that great…” She whispered. The black-haired girl nodded and sniffled, but was still mostly unintelligible. Hirako was suddenly next to the pair, patting them both on the back.

“Ahh, Orihime-chan, my English is quite good, so if I--”

“Get out of here, you weirdo, and don’t lay a finger on her!” Ichigo growled. Hirako looked mildly alarmed and stepped back, but didn’t leave.

“Really, I think I know most of what she’s trying to say, Kurosaki-kun. There’s no reason to be hostile,” he said, somehow managing to be serious with his strange pseudo-grin.

“Then tell us already!” The strawberry commanded, short of temper.

“She’s saying something about Uryuu leaving before her song yesterday, and how she hasn’t seen him since, and that isn’t like him,” he translated. Ichigo felt cold, and met Inoue’s worried glance. Danna rattled off another sentence in English and Hirako looked much more serious. “She’s just speaking in English because she’s upset. Apparently you didn’t give her the chance to speak?” He asked, but there was mild reproof in his voice for all of them. Ichigo, Renji and Grimmjow all scowled and tried to act as if they weren’t bothered by his tone. The blonde patted Danna on the back and said something else in English to her. She seemed reassured, and pulled away from Inoue, wiping her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered to Orihime. “I’m sorry everyone… But it really isn’t like Uryuu to leave one of my performances, ever, and he said it was an emergency. He didn’t call today, and I thought maybe he was just at school and tired, but if he’s not here…” She smiled weakly. “I thought one of you might know…”

“We’ll find him, Danna. Keep trying to call him, and we’ll check around,” Ichigo said. A terrible idea struck him then; he tried to ignore it and failed. “I’ll track you down if we find anything today, and I’ll visit the club tonight if we don’t,” he offered, hating himself for it.

“Ishida can take care of himself, but we’ll give him a few knocks for worrying you,” Renji offered. She laughed and rubbed away the last of her tears.

“Thank you Kurosaki-san, Abarai-san,” she said, and turned toward Inoue. Orihime looked at her blankly for a moment before she realized what Danna was expecting.

“Oh! Inoue Orihime!”

“Estienne Danna,” she offered with a smile. “Please let me know if you find anything out, and thank you again,” she said, and walked away with a wave. They all stood silent, even after she had driven away, until Renji spoke.

“…Hot,” the Shinigami said.

“…Smokin’ hot,” Grimmjow agreed. Rukia and Ichigo shared discreet mutinous glances.

~

The sun was starting to set, casting a red glare that made Kurosaki Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia cover their eyes.
“No one else has found anything,” the redhead said wearily.

“Not since Inoue found that spot with his reiatsu splashed everywhere,” Rukia replied, and sat down on the sidewalk. “Hitsugaya-taichou tried using spirit threads, but he said that Ishida’s just…stops.”

“…But that means he’s still alive, doesn’t it?” Ichigo asked, and she nodded. “One of us would have known if he died,” he said grimly, and sat down next to his friend. He should have kept closer watch on Ishida after his powers disappeared. He should have known that the Quincy might be an easy target for Hollows or worse, Arrancar. He should have been there for him.

“I think Estienne-san would know,” Rukia said thoughtfully, and leaned back on her hands. Ichigo looked at her questioningly, and she continued. “The only other person to notice was probably Inoue, but…She has an impressive reiatsu for a human. She might not have known what the feeling was, but she probably would have mentioned that she “sensed” he was gone.”

“Untrained, high spirit power… Easy target for Hollows,” Ichigo said darkly. Rukia regarded him for a moment.

“Ichigo. Ishida would have been highly offended at any offer of protection. Had you made one, it would have been scorned,” she said reprovingly.

“But I didn’t even try! I could have tried to do it secretly,” he said bitterly. He stared at the ground, ruminating. It was getting harder and harder to stay in control of the situation.

“Then don’t whine and dwell on the past. Make it up to him and protect Estienne-san,” Rukia said simply. Ichigo frowned. …She’s right. I’ve been thinking too much, instead of doing. Not everything is lost. He stood up and ruffled her dark hair.

“Thanks Rukia,” he said with a weak smile. Rukia glowered.

“Hey! If anything, I’m the older sibling type, you don’t get to mess up my hair, I get to mess up yours!” She jumped to her feet and yanked him down by his shirt to give him a noogie.

“Ow, ow it hurts! Cut it out Rukia!”

“Onee-san!” She rubbed harder with her fist.

“Okay, okay, Onee-san!”

~

The sun was past the horizon now, and Ichigo was on his way to the club where Estienne Danna sang. I’m impressed Grimmjow stayed on the search as long as he did, really. He has no obligations to Ishida. …He probably knew long before the rest of us that the search was futile. …Stupid bastard needs to get out of my head. He arrived at the club and went around the back; his cheeks reddened as he passed through the painfully familiar alleyway.

It’s not immoral to be thinking about it. I’m here for Danna first. He was a teenager; it was alright to be driven by his hormones every once in awhile wasn’t it? Just this once, to forget things. If he wasn’t so frustrated, maybe he could stop entertaining thoughts and useless dreams of the blue-haired Espada.

He was here for Danna, for Ishida. He took a deep breath and stepped into the back of the club, a hallway crowded with costumes, people, and doors into personal dressing rooms. He stayed flushed, as he felt ridiculously out of place amongst the flashy costumes and semi-nude performers scuttling around, and tried to find Danna’s dressing room. Theater kids at his school were weird. These people did nothing to dispel the stereotype, he noted with alarm. He pressed himself against the wall to avoid a dancer barreling through before he finally lurched through Estienne’s door as if he was reaching a sanctuary.

“Oh, hello Kurosaki-san,” Danna said politely. “Since you’re here already, do you think you could help lace up my corset?”

“What!?” Ichigo gaped. He really had terrible luck. Normalcy was totally out of his grasp.

“Oh no, please don’t be as prudish as Uryuu. It’s just a costume, for goodness’ sakes,” she said, and turned her back to him.

“But, but you’re his…” The redhead stammered, half angry, half flustered. She raised her eyebrows at him, and then looked at the door meaningfully. “Artists have ears, Strawberry,” she said softly. “So you’re fine.” Ichigo couldn’t decide if he should be furious or mortified at what he thought she was implying. He settled for raising his hackles and stamping to Estienne before starting to lace up her corset.

“Urk…Pull harder,” she said, wincing.

“What?” He said, scowling. “I’m already pulling hard--”

“Everyone knows Suzuki gave yo—AGH!” Kurosaki put his knee against her back for leverage and pulled the strings hard.

“You don’t have to make me angry to do it!” He said with a glare.

“Sorry,” she squeaked. “That’s fine!” He finished and tied off the laces. “So, you’re here, without Uryuu…” She said. “That means you haven’t found him.”

“No… But we know he’s alive,” Ichigo said forcefully. “And the second thing is that you should stay with me. Whatever happened to Ishida… there’s a chance it could happen to you. I owe it to Ishida to protect you,” he finished. Estienne turned to look at him, and then sat on her makeup counter.

“…I appreciate that Kurosaki-kun, but I can’t accept your offer. I think I know what you mean when you say I’m in danger, and I’ll take care of myself.” Level blue eyes met angry brown.

“I don’t get it. Ishida would want you to be safe!” he said, and slammed his hand down on the counter.

“I will be safe. If things go bad, I know other people who can help me, or I’ll find you,” she said firmly. “Discussion closed.” He opened his mouth several times to say something and thought better of it each time. Finally, disgruntled, he waved one hand in goodbye and left.

“Thank you Kurosaki-kun!” He heard her yell. What a confusing girl. Ishida would be pleased.

“Tch…” Ichigo put his hands in his pockets and stood outside of Suzuki’s dressing room. He missed seeing him dance. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone in a million years, but even regular dancing pulled him in now. It was just the short blonde who had drawn him in was… God, those memories. If anyone could help him forget anything, it was the talented performer who was making him gulp.

“Ichigo?!” He jumped and turned to face the happy voice behind him.

“S-suzuki?” He stuttered. He’d expected a few more moments to work up his courage. Or decide to run away.

“I’ve missed you! You haven’t dropped by in forever!” The spritely dancer pushed him into the dressing room and closed the door behind him. Before Ichigo could react, Suzuki had placed his hands on his chest and kissed him deeply. Warmth and guilt flooded Ichigo’s body.

“Wait a second, Suzuki, I…” Hips pressed against his, and Suzuki’s tongue played against his lips. He doesn’t waste any time at all Ichigo thought. And he was so hard to resist. Without even thinking, Ichigo had deepened the kiss and slid his hands onto Suzuki’s hips. He had come here ready, desperate, but doubt stung at him painfully. He felt the blonde’s hand against his thigh, felt it grip him for a moment before it moved to his zipper.

“Suzuki-kun! Performance!” A deep voice yelled, and pounded on the door. Suzuki pulled away from him with a start, and Ichigo quietly released his breath.

“That’s Akeno-kun… You can wait, can’t you Ichigo? Just until after the dance!” Before the strawberry could protest, Suzuki had blown him a kiss and disappeared. Now arousal and shame danced in his gut. Had he come just for satisfaction? From someone he barely knew? His scowl was so deeply etched in his face that it began to hurt. He wouldn’t keep doing this, Ichigo decided. It was wrong, and the brash laugh that rang in his ears proved that it did not help him forget anything. He examined the room and found a scrap of paper and a pen, and wrote a brief goodbye. He was thankful, but he wouldn’t be coming back.

Cheeks still aflame and more depressed than ever, Kurosaki Ichigo fled the Drame Erotique.