I had the idea for this while I was swinging on the elementary school's swings. I hope you like it.

I don't own Bleach, Grimmjow, Aizen or Karakura Town. I do own Koyuki, Mitsu and, unfortunatly, the creepy landlord lady.

Aizen was a bastard.

Or so thought Grimmjow, as he walked up the stairs to the small-ish human apartment he'd been ordered to stay in for three months.

Aizen had ordered him to stay in the human world, Karakura Town to be exact, for these three months for "reconnaissance". Aizen wanted him to moniter for advanced souls, so he could find anyone of use before he destroyed the entire area in the creation of the Oken. And he had chosen Grimmjow for this job, much to the surprise of both the other Espada and Grimmjow himself.

It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't been ordered not to attack anyone unless provoked openly by a Shinigami. Even then, he was supposed to, and Grimmjow shuddered at the thought, retreat to a safe location as to continue the search. Grimmjow was having serious thoughts about suicide to save him from the embarrassment.

It hadn't been too hard to set up his rent agreement with the old landlord lady, since Szayel had made him a "gigai" of sorts. It was similar to the Shinigami's, but it hid his mask and tattoo while he was wearing it. Grimmjow found it uncomfortable, like his soul was constantly rubbing against an invisible rubbery surface

"Damn, these humans make tiny apartments." Grimmjow muttered, once he looked inside his home for the next three months. It consisted of a den, a bathroom, a toilet room (1), a kitchen and a bedroom with a closet. The furniture consisted of two soft chairs, a couch, coffee table and televison in the den, and a queen sized bed, a desk and a hard-backed chair in the bedroom. The kitchen had an oven, sink, a table with three chairs and refrigerator, but it lacked basic supplies like dishes and, Grimmjow was disappointed to see, food.

"Damn…I have to go shopping." He sighed, and locked his door before leaving for the local stores.

Two hours later, Grimmjow returned, his arms laden with various bags. He'd bought enough food for a week, a set of silverware and dishes, and some clothes. Though the human world had its low points, he had to admit the clothes were stylish (2), and the food wasn't half bad either. Better than what that prick Nnoitra made, anyways.

He put the dishes away, made himself something to eat, and sat at the couch. He picked up the remote, and turned on the TV.

He turned it off after about twenty minutes, after clicking through pointless shows and info-mercials. He did find a documentary on the history of war that looked to be interesting, but each commercial break was about ten minutes long. Not worth it.

Grimmjow sighed. This entire mission was pointless. Why did that bastard Aizen have pick him for this? Ulquiorra was better at this shit.

Scratch. Scratch.

Grimmjow looked around for the source of the scratching noise. He turned towards the back of the apartment, where it overlooked a small garden area. In the window sat a black-and-tortoishell cat, which gave out a muffled yowl when it saw that Grimmjow was looking at it.

"What the hell do you want?" He snarled, going over to the window. The cat scratched at the window again, and looked pitiful.

"Ha, like I'm letting you in."Grimmjow chuckled. He was in a really pissy mood, because he usually liked cats, due to his feline nature as a hollow. But it was refreshing to have something to boss around for a change.

He was about to shoo the cat away when a feminine voice called "Mitsu! Here kitty!"

Grimmjow turned his head to the right, and glimpsed the head of a young woman sticking her head out the window, and beckoning to the cat. "Here kitty!" She called again.

Grimmjow, sticking his head out the window in a like manner, said, "Hey woman! This your cat?" The cat, whom he guessed to be named Mitsu, immeadiatly stuck his furry head under Grimmjow's chin, and purred.

"Uh, yeah. Can I come over and get him?" The woman asked, pink faintly gracing her face. Grimmjow nodded shortly, grabbed the cat and shut the window.

"What's your problem?" He asked the cat (he noticed it was female), as he walked over to the front door. He opened it as the woman from next door was about to knock.

"Here." Grimmjow thrust the cat into the woman's arms. She looked flustered at his sudden appearance, but bowed shortly.

"Thank you. Sorry about Mitsu, she usually doesn't run off. She must really like you." The woman smiled. "My name is Koyuki Ikeda, pleased to meet you."

"Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. And no problem." Grimmjow watched her walk to the apartment on the right. She waved shortly, and walked inside. She had medium length black hair held back in a messy ponytail, and she wore a t-shirt and pants under a yellow apron. The apron was splattered with flour, Grimmjow guessed she was baking.

He sighed. If the most exciting thing to happen in these three months was a cat scratching at his window, then Grimmjow was in for a long haul.


Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee- SLAM.

"Goddamn alarm clock…" Grimmjow groaned from the bed. He looked at the cursed object.


"…Damn…" Grimmjow growled. He got up, and sat on the side of his bed. Sighing, he put his head in his hands. This was going to be an awful day, he could feel it already.


"Not again…" He let out an exasperated sigh as; once again, Mitsu sat at his window, although the location was different.

"How do you find me?" He muttered, opening the window, and grabbing the cat, which immediately started purring.

"Yeah, yeah." Grimmjow growled. He went out the front door, and went nextdoor where that woman lived. (3)

Slam. Slam. Slam.

The door opened, revealing a ruffled and tired looking Koyuki. She seemed startled by Grimmjow. He, on the other hand, looked faintly pissed.

"Look, woman. Take your stupid cat and keep it inside. Please," he added, remembering Aizen's lecture on manners.

"Oh! Sorry, forgive me." Koyuki said quickly, taking Mitsu. "Let me make it up to you-"

"No need. Just keep the damn thing inside." Grimmjow growled, turning back to his apartment. Just when he was about to walk inside, someone wolf-whistled. Whipping his head around, he looked for the source. It was the landlady, who had to be about 60 years old. She winked, then returned to her apartment.

Grimmjow shuddered. Maybe I should've put a shirt on.

1 - In Japan, the houses usually have seperate rooms for the toilet and bathroom. Much cleaner, don't you agree?

2- I imagine all the Espada having excellent fashion sense. Unlike Rukia.

3- Grimmjow already forgot her name.

I hope you liked it! Reviews, whether they be kind or...not kind, are always welcome.