|The Denying Thought of Love
Author: Fozygirl PM
His hand then slowly glided through the man's hair, it was a lot softer than it looked to be. His hands then touched something wet, sticking to his hand. He slowly took his hand out, hesitating softly before looking. It was blood.Rated: Fiction T - English - Friendship/Adventure - Grimmjow J. & Ichigo K. - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,762 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 11 - Follows: 13 - Updated: 02-19-11 - Published: 12-14-10 - id: 6554925
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: The Denying Thought of Love
Word count: 4751
Warning: Yaoi in later chapters. Grimmjow x Ichigo. Cursing can appear. Young Ichigo in a couple of chapters
Rating: T, may become M later on
Summery: He slowly touched the handle of the sword but was stopped as a hand gripped his small arm, dark blue eyes glared at him.
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach
Where ever he looked he saw the ever so soft looking sand, mile after mile, dunes after dunes.
A hand slowly touched the sand, gliding through it, feeling how it felt in his hand. Both hands held the sand, watching how it slowly tickled down his hands, past his fingers, like water would roll of a stone. The hand slowly went toward the sky blue haired head. Tired, weary blue eyes peeked open to look at the last remaining sand which had chosen to cling to his hands in small groups.
The eyes slowly glided toward the sand covered land around. There was some small trees, which looked like it would crumble if your breathed on it, looked like some kind of stone
A castle could be seen, over the many dunes and quarts trees. A big castle, covered in white. It looked to be so close, but he knew from experience that it was miles away. He knew how it was to walk down those halls, watching the lower beings run away from him when he would turn towards them.
A soft, silence dripping noise could be heard, coming from him. A look down showed him covered in red liquor, dripping down his chest, toward the stomach, where it all ended the same, at his pants. Some of it slowly trailed down his forehead, slowly over his cheekbones, where it softly dripped off his chin.
The sand around him also had spots of the same red, thick liquor. It such a beautiful color. It was such a shame that it was covering the sand around him and not a blade. It was…
The many wounds he had was slowly oozing blood, his life essence, taking him another step to the deaths door.
But wasn't he already death?
The man scoffed harshly to the air, cursing under his breath at the weakness he had just displayed, even if no one was around. The pain was slowly showing its ugly head to him, making him feel the pain in his chest, feet, arms and head. One of his larger wounds, the one located at his chest, was still oozing blood, as it had done when he first got the wound. He pressed his hand against the wound, hissing as some of the sand got into his wound, stinging.
There was someone fighting close to him, their powers passing around them as the rings in a pond, wave after wave, getting stronger and stronger. The powers were pushing against him, trying to get him down, to crush him in his already weak state. The tired blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to get up, trying to ignore the pain to the best of his ability.
He staggered as he finally got up, growling as he leaned against the blood covered quarts, hating the feeling of weakness, the hopelessness and the utter defeat.
The other hand slowly raised, feeling like it had just got around 100 kg heavier and opened a black hole. The static sound it made as it opened made the man's lips spread into a smirk.
He staggered into it, feeling the blood continue its little adventure as it was joined by sweat. The thing he wanted to do the most was to rest, curl and wait till he had regained his powers, till his wounds had healed. But he couldn't wait; he didn't have the time for that.
He came to the other side and stared out at the illuminated street. A glance up showed the sun having just left, the moons journey to the top having just been started. The eyes closed as the many different scents assaulted him. This place was so different than the place he had just left. Here it wasn't sand everywhere, but melted stone. It had plants, small houses instead of a castle, houses, people.
He took a step out from the garganta before he feel, like all his strength had been sucked out. He was falling toward a house, it looked normal if you didn't count that it was connected to something which looked like a mini version of a hospital.
The familiar sound of wind rushing past his ears, the blood rushing in his body, everything was calming him. His hand touched the sheath of his sword, Pantera, before he crashed against the roof. The air in his lungs left him in a wosh, coughing some blood up. He laid there for some time, closing his eyes as a cold breeze ruffled his blue hair, cooling the sweat and blood
It felt nice
The overwhelming need to rest was the top priorities in the man's mind, making him look for a place to lay and heal. A window was under him, the window was slightly open, and making it possible for him to push the window opens. He did that. He stumbled inside, standing for a moment to look around, holding on the window beside him to steady himself.
He just glanced around the room. There was a bed, desk, closet and a door that he was sure lead out to the hall.
After having a look on the room he fell, landing on something softly, it was the bed. He curled around himself, pushing against the wounds, feeling light headed as he lost more and more blood, softly feeling his eyelids closing, trying to make him sleep.
The door slowly opened, not one sound being heard as it opened more and more. The head belonged to a child, large brown eyes looked at the man lying on his bead. Pure curiosity was shining in his amber brown eyes as he walked toward the man, maybe he had gotten a new friend? Or was it again one of those ghosts that his father and mother couldn't see?
The man had long blue hair, almost looking like the sky; there was something red covering the body and spots in the hair. The clothes on the man was white but torn apart, almost his entire west was gone, leaving only a sleeve. His pants were also turn apart, but was holding better than the west. He was also missing a sandal.
He neared the body, walking slowly not to wake the sleeping man. He walked over to the head and moved the man's hair away to see the man's face. A soft gasp passed the youngsters lips, his eyes opening in wonder and awe. Some kind of jaw bone was placed there, the rows of teeth gleaming in the light coming from the hall. A tanned hand slowly touched the yaw bone and felt the hard, cold surface, fingers slowly gliding over the rows of sharp teeth
His hand then slowly glided through the man's hair, it was a lot softer than it looked to be. His hands then touched something wet, sticking to his hand. He slowly took his hand out, hesitating softly before looking.
It was blood.
The young boy hands started to shake, his body standing there as the eyes stared at the blood on his hands I-It's blood! His wide eyes moved to the man, scared now that he knew it was blood, not paint as he had thought at first. He shook the man's shoulder, the man twitching slight but didn't wake. Tears tingled at the back of Ichigo's eyes,
He ran with hurried steps out, hurrying down the stairs and ran into the kitchen. There stood an elder lady, his mother, and was cutting vegetables, cutting through them as a warm knife through butter.
''Oka-san!'' he shouted as he took a hold of his mothers pants, pulling with hurried tugs to get her attention. The lady only smiled to the young boy as she placed the sliced vegetables in a pot and stirred it. The tears started to appear in the corner of the young boys eyes as his mother ignored him
The mother finally left the pot, a smile on her lips as she knelled down. Being on eye levels with the younger boy was better than towering over him, which would make him scared. She slowly caressed his hair as she looked in his eyes; fear was the emotion which was the strongest, alongside that was curiosity and concern.
''What is it Ichigo-chan?''
Ichigo took a hold of his mother's sleeve, forgetting the blood on his hands, his small hands holding as hard as he could onto that. His amber eyes still wide as he stared at his mother. His mouth opened, formed words, but not one sound passed the lips. It was as if something had taken a hold of his voice, not letting him tell his mother what lay on his bed in his room.
He tugged harder on his mother sleeve, making her stumble in his hurry to show what it was that had made him this scared. She was pulled up the stairs, her long legs giving an advance against Ichigo's still small legs, so now she was walking beside the still scared kid.
She softly opened the door, staring at the bed to find... nothing. The quilts and pillows were not made and the window was open, making the curtains move in the soft breeze. She tsk'ed softly as she entered the room, walking towards the window to close it. She was going to place her leg onto the bed when Ichigo's shout surprised her
The mother turned to her son in surprise, her leg raised, knees almost touching the beds quilt. She stood there before softly lowering her leg, looking at her son and waiting for an explanation
''Can't you see the injured man, Oka-san?''
She looked at her kid, moving her head to the side as a cat would do, waiting. She looked onto the bed again and narrowed her eyes, trying harder to see what it was Ichigo could see. It took her some times before she remembered, Ichigo could some kind of way see ghosts, so that mean someone who was death was lying on her son's bed.
But if there was a man, then why did he choose to lie on her son's bed? It was the first time something like this had happened. Normally they would be outside the house, near the river or at the street. A couple of times a few would appear in the house, but they would normally trail him, if what Ichigo said was true.
Maybe it would be better if the father was here…
''Isshin? Can you come here for a moment?''
A man came running; each step could be heard as he ran out from a room, up the stairs and down the hall toward Ichigo's room. Ichigo felt a sweat drop roll slowly down the back of his neck, his mother and his own eyes staring as a man ran past the door. The man had run to fast so he couldn't stop immediately, ending with him getting to know the wall very well.
Ichigo looked over to the blue haired man, worried that his father or mother had awakened the injured man. A sigh of relief passed his small lips as he was the man sleeping. But the worry came back when he remembered that he needed to help him
''Ne… Oto-san? Can't you help him?''
Isshin took a glance around the room, his hands shadowing his eyes as he searched the room. His eyes stayed on the sleeping man for a second, before moving away. Sometimes he didn't like to keep his secret from his family, but it was needed if he could be together with Masaki. Isshin continued to look around the room, moving from spot to spot.
''There is no man here Ichigo, my beautiful son!''
Ichigo stared at his father and mother and glanced at the man again, not believing that they couldn't see him. Did they not like the man? Did they want him to sleep forever? Had the man done something wrong? But the man needed help!
Masaki slowly walked over to her husband and stood beside him, glancing at her son with a worried look in her eyes. She knew he would need some help to take care of the man, but she or her husband couldn't help the injured man as they couldn't see him.
She turned to Isshin and smiles towards him, eyes shining with love as she softly placed her hand on his shoulder.
''How about you help Ichigo-chan? Teach him how to bangade a person, he may need it for when he gets older.''
''I will my darling Masaki! Yosh, when this day has ended my handsome son will be able to take care of any man!''
Isshin posed in his 'good guy', teeth shining as he gave Masaki a thump up. His ears then perked up, his tall form standing still as his eyes zeroed onto something that Ichigo and Masaki couldn't see. He started to sniff the air, like a hound dog would do as it searched after the criminal or drugs. Isshin stopped and placed his hands in a horror kind of way, eyes wide with shock.
''Masaki's food has burnt! Noooo! My wonderful Masaki has never burnt the food ever! I will eat all of it even if has burnt! Masaki!''
He shouted before he was going to tackle Masaki, tears falling from his eyes as a river, non-stopping. Masaki chuckled a little awkwardly as she petted Isshin's short hair, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly, as she tried to stop smiling at Isshin's 'misery '.
''OK, ok Isshin. Let me check the dinner while you help Ichigo?''
Masaki slowly unwrapped Isshin's arms from her waist, petted his hair before leaving the room. Her eyes shining with mirth as she walked downstairs. She walked over to the boiling pot, the hot air rushing out as she lifted the lid.
''It doesn't smell burnt...'' She muttered softly to herself. She took a spoon and tasted it too ''And it doesn't taste burnt...''
Ichigo looked at his father, a sweat drop slowly trailing its way down his cheekbone as he watched his father, pretty sure that he was crazy, as the monsters he had seen in the recent manga he had read.
He stood there for a moment more before slowly walking toward the blue haired man. The man's bright blue hair stood against his beds white quilts, making it stand more out. Ichigo looked at his father, his eyes pleading for help. ''Oto-san…' Ichigo whispered lowly as he stared at the man
Slowly Isshin stopped jumping around, the silly goofy look slipping of his face, as if a mask had been removed. It scared Ichigo to see his father be this serious. Isshin stared toward the bed, eyes calculating the damage done to the man. To Ichigo it looked like he was searching for something with his ''doctor look'', as Ichigo had dubbed it.
''Ichigo? Can you tell me where this man is bleeding?'' The need to hold the façade came back to Isshin as he turned to look at Ichigo again. He sent a big smile to Ichigo before he skipped out from the room to get the items needed, not even waiting to hear the where the wounds had been.
Ichigo stayed in the room, a puzzled look on his face as he watched is grown, but not mature, father skip out like a school girl. He could some kind of way feel his father enter the clinic, which was stationed right beside their house. The feeling made his shiver, as he didn't know how, and the unknown was always scary. It had a different feeling than the monsters he saw on the streets, covered in white with a hole through their chest, with weird masks even if it wasn't Halloween yet.
His father had the same feeling as those people who ran around with swords and funny black clothes, almost like those people who practiced kendo on the television. They always ran after those monsters and battled like those action film his mother and father watched. But no one else could see them, but sometimes there was this dark blue haired boy, who was walking with an older man, that would look at those monsters.
Before Ichigo could think more about those creatures his father came, skipping inside the room. A big smile was stretched on his face as he held a roll of bandage, while another had thought it would be funny to become a part of his father, making him look like a mummy.
''I have got the bandage my handsome son!''
Isshin then gave the roll of bandage before he tried to take the bandage off himself, rolling around like a cat, trying to get it off.
Ichigo stood with the bandage and looked at it, feeling the texture underneath his fingertips as he waited for his father to be ready. He slowly stepped toward the man as his father suddenly popped behind him, hands up to slowly scare him, a big smile on his face. ''Booh!''
''Aah!'' Ichigo screamed as he turned around, his small fists trying to hit his fathers face. But it didn't reach the man's face as he held a hand on Ichigo's head, grinning down at Ichigo as the small fists flew after him, never hitting.
''Ya have to be stronger to hit your old man here! Ichigo!''
''I will beat you someday!''
A hearty laugh came from the man's chest as he let go of Ichigo's head. Ichigo, surprised, couldn't stop himself as he fell into the man's stomach. The sudden release had taken Ichigo off guard, so he hadn't been able to stop himself from pushing against the hand holding his head.
A groan surprised both of them, looking toward the man lying on the bed. Isshin caught himself as he was going to check on the man, hitting his forehead mentally as he got his mask on again.
Ichigo hadn't caught his old man's slip as all his attention was focused on the blunette, his eyes staying on the blood covered chest as he gulped softly, his hands started to shake slightly.
Isshin took a look at his son before he took a chair and sat beside the bed, motioning for Ichigo to get closer, a serious look having entered his father's eyes. His eyes were hard, narrowed, like steel. Ichigo nodded timidly before walking closer to his father, his eyes continued to flick toward the man on his bed, worry and concern visible like the sun on the sky.
''What is the man's condition right now?''
Ichigo looked at his father for a brief moment, before his eyes again turned to the wounded mans. The blunettes skin was getting pale, sweat started to coat the forehead, small drops slowly trailing its way down.
''Um... his chest is covered in blo-blood and his skin is pale and he is sweating...'' Ichigo said shyly, fidgeting with his shirt as he waited for his father to show him how to bandage the guy.
''Hmm...'' Isshin mumbled softly while scratching his chin, he glanced at his son before he smiled. ''Well, first we need some water to remove the blood to see how bad the wound is. Will you help me get the water Ichigo?''
Ichigo's head moved very fast in a nod. He followed his father to the kitchen where he got a bowl. They then walked to the kitchen where Isshin placed the bowl under the hose and Ichigo turned the water on, placing the faucet at the cold temperature as Isshin told him to, while Isshin himself had left to search after a towel to clean the blood up with. Ichigo then took the heavy bowl and walked to his room with heavy steps, frowning in concentration as he tried to keep all the water in the bowl.
When they entered the room Ichigo slowly walked to the chair beside the bed and placed the bowl onto it. His eyes turned to the man behind him, waiting to know what he should do next.
''Now you shall clean the blood away with the towel here'' Isshin handed the towel to Ichigo and watched as he soaked the towel before slowly cleaning the blood, his hands shaking softly as he slowly worked from the stomach and up.
Ichigo felt his hands shake and tried to make them stop, resulting in them shaking a bit more. He gulped as he slowly washed the abs. No sign of wounds. He started to wash the left chest and saw the corner of the wound; he then washed the right chest and saw the other end of the wound. The wound covered the chest in one fine line. It must have been made from something sharp. The black clad people came to his mind, with their weird swords but he shoved the idea out from his mind. They were protecting the town from the monsters, and this man didn't look like one of those, eating souls and having weird masks covering their faces.
The wound was there, but it looked like it wasn't that bad. Ichigo watched the chest, surprised that it looked like it was a week old, being son to a doctor. But the man had been covered in blood, fresh too, so that must have meant they were new. But then how could the man have healed this fast?
Ichigo then turned to his father, his hands had calmed down as he had seen the slightly healed wound, all questions having pushed to the side.
Isshin smiled softly as he handed the bandage to his son, pride shining in his eyes as he watched Ichigo unroll it. He showed Ichigo how to take care of the guy, by using his own body. He then watched his son.
Ichigo slowly follow his father's instruction, he placed the man against the head post, his father couldn't help him with that. He removed of the remaining sleeve and placed it on his desk before started placing the end of bandage at the beginning of the wound and started to roll it around, so it covered the whole chest. He pouting slightly, tongue stuck out in concentration, as he tried to imitate his father at the best of his ability.
The end result wasn't the best, but it was better than nothing. Ichigo smiled, happy that his small mission was complete. Ichigo turned to his father, face shining with happiness as waited to know if there was more to be done.
Isshin grinned as he ruffles the youngster's hair, ignoring the protest as Ichigo tried to push his hand away. Ichigo pouted as he crossed his arms across his small frame, glaring down onto the floor as if it was its fault.
''You have done a good job Ichigo! That deserves a cake!''
Ichigo looked surprised at his father, eyes open in curiosity before he smiled again. Isshin laughed again before slowly standing up, looking at his son before he skipped out. ''Masaki! Our cute son has learned how to take care of people! Masaki!''
Ichigo looked after his father, a drop of sweat again trailing down the back of his neck as he saw his crazy father leave the room. He then turned to the man again and then noticed something. A sheath was at the man's side, the handle could just be seen as the pants covered the most of it.
He slowly touched the handle of the sword but was stopped as a hand gripped his small arm, dark blue eyes glared at him. ''Oi kid'' Ichigo stared the man in the eyes, which reminded him of the ocean at the night, fingertips still lightly touching the sword handle ''Oi kid, ya deaf or somethin'?''
Ichigo shook his head and smiled ''My names Ichigo! What's your name mister?''
Grimmjow glared at Ichigo and took the hand away from his sword, Pantera ''The names Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.
Grimmjow slowly pushed himself off the bed, his arms shaking as he strained them to hold his weight. Damn it Grimmjow gritted his teeth together That fucking fight had banged me up more than I expected. He growled lightly to himself.
''Ne, are you going to stay Grimmow?''
Grimmjow glared at the kid ''The names Grimmjow, not Grimmow''
''Can I call you Grimm?'' Ichigo looked up at the man with wide eyes, trying to imitate the pleading eyes of a dog.
''No. So was it you who bandaged me kid?'' The puppy eyes failed horribly
Ichigo nodded before he remembered the name the man called him ''It's Ichigo, I-Chi-Go! Not kid''
''Whatever, so was it you?''
Ichigo nodded as he pouted, glancing away before he got an idea ''If you can call me kid, then I will call you Grimmy''
Grimmjow grumbled as he glared at the kid, trying to muster the strength to stand up. He tried to get up but his arms buckled under him, making him fall onto the bed again. ''Don't call me Grimmy.''
''Are you going to stay Grimm?''
''Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that, I won't call you kid and you won't call me Grimm''
Ichigo shook his head with a wide smile, eyes closing slightly as the smile took more than half of his face ''Nu-uh! I said I wouldn't call you Grimmy if you stopped calling me kid! So I can call you Grimm!'' Ichigo grinned as Grimmjow pinched the bridge of his nose. Right now the score stood Ichigo: 1 Grimmjow: 0
Grimmjow glared as he felt the familiar pounding in his hair, just behind his forehead. His fingers twitched slightly as the need to hold his sword came over him.
''Why does you um... aura feeling different from those sword carrying people?'' The wonder in the young boy's voice could be heard.
Grimmjow raised an eyebrow as he looked at the boy. How could this boy see those bastards? The kid wasn't dead, his soul was intact, so what could it be? Then he noticed it. The boy's reiatsu was more potent, thick, unlike those petite humans who walked the streets. One hit and they would die.
The kid had asked why his aura, reiatsu, was different from those sword carrying people. That must mean that he could see those shinigamies, but he was still young to know, feel the difference between shinigamies and hollows. But how could the kid have this high of a reiatsu at this age? Who cares? May I could spar against him when he gets older. A smile stretched over Grimmjow's face as killer intent came over him, the feeling of blood over his hand, his sword cutting through skin as if it were butter.
''That's 'cause we aren't the same'' Grimmjow said as his eyes glinted, almost shining.
''But I can feel your um...''
''Yeah, why are yours different?''
Grimmjow grinned and pointed at his hole on his stomach ''Maybe because I'm different?''
Ichigo slowly nodded, still not understanding it fully. His hands shook slightly as the pressure slowly became too much to him, his body trying to fight against the still building, invisible, pressure. It soon became too much and he fell, eyes wide and mouth open. It was as if invisible hands were holding him down, gripping his heart and squeezing it, mocking him.
Grimmjow looked at the kid as he became quiet; eyes open as his small hands started to shake. The small boy's frame slowly started to shake too, as if he had a ton on his back and tried to hold it up, but failed. He fell, started to shake violently. His amber eyes were wide, scared, while a small pool of saliva collected under his mouth.
Grimmjow stared at the kid as he continued to lie on the ground before he found out the reason to why the kid was shaking. His reiatsu was lashing around angrily, uncontrollable. It must have been too much to the kid, even if he had a lot of the energy. Ichigo's reserve was only like a puddle compared to an ocean.
Grimmjow immediately controlled his reiatsu and watched as the kids body slowly calmed down. Ichigo's eyes' pupil enlarged and he laid there, slack after all that.
''Oi kid, ya okay?'' The smirk could almost be heard in the man's voice.
Change that, the score now stood Ichigo: 1 Grimmjow: 1