Requestfic for Red. Prompt: Grimmjow bullying Ichigo, high school setting, Colonello and Byakuya as teachers.
Summary: Everyone has different ways of venting while secretly crushing on someone. Grimmjow's just happens to be bullying.
The teacher scanned the class roster, looking for a good name to call out. Students sank down into their chairs, pressing their faces as close to their textbooks as possible, avoiding all eye contact as they inwardly prayed not to be called on. Some opted for the confused, I-don't-know-the-answer look, others for the look-a-dirty-spot-on-my-textbook, and the rest just sank lower into their chairs and tried to look as small as possible.
Upon hearing his name being read off the list, Ichigo sagged bonelessly into his seat. His blond haired math teacher raised an eyebrow expectantly and gestured to the black board with one hand.
"I don't bite, despite what the other teachers like to joke about me."
The class had muddled half-laughter, mostly from the relief of not being called on.
Sighing, the orange haired teen dragged himself out of his seat and made his way sluggishly to the front of the class. The calculus question looked tough, he had about zero idea of the topic they were studying, and he was dead tired from looking after his sick younger sister the night before. Yuzu had had high fever and a runny nose, complaining about having nightmares and feeling aches all over her body. Still, she hadn't wanted to trouble her older brother, but Ichigo had insisted. Though he'd taken good care of her throughout the night, he hadn't managed to get a proper hour's sleep before it was time for school.
Standing before the blackboard, he stared at the equations blankly. It stared right back, as if challenging his tired mind to work faster. Stalling for time, Ichigo picked up a pale green chalk and wrote down the formula to answer it. The chalk squeaked as his mind went blank. Which equation was he supposed to integrate first?
"Hurry up, Kurosaki. We only have until the bell rings, kora."
"I'm still thinking, sensei."
"You think? Shocker."
Instantly recognizing the owner of the slow, drawling voice, Ichigo gritted his teeth as he scowled at the board. The minutes ticked by as he struggled with the question.
"We're growing old here, Berry."
"Shut it, Jeagerjacques."
Ichigo snarled, but refused to turn around and acknowledge the owner of the mocking tone. Looking at his face would only piss him off further.
"Shut up, or else."
"Ooh, I'm all scared now. Petrified, even. I may wet my pants."
Class 3 – E's math sensei stepped in. "That's enough, Grimmjow. Let Ichigo focus, please. Come on now; let's start with the first step. Equation one first, then equation two . . . and the answer should be in pi. You have your calculator? Good. Remember what I taught you, kora."
Ichigo chewed on his lower lip and mulled over his past lessons. His teacher probably meant to be encouraging, but it only made him feel pressured.
"I'm sorry, I don't know."
"Can I have ten minutes of my life back?"
"Grimmjow." Their teacher chided, tossing a small piece of chalk in his blue haired student's direction. "Enough."
"No, seriously, sensei!" Grimmjow argued laughingly. "He's pathetic. Honestly, it'll only take me like five seconds to get the solution. Isn't this the same question you asked us to do last week? It even came out twice in the pop quiz."
True, but it wasn't like he could remember that. Somewhere in the back, Nnoitra whistled a bored tune. Ichigo's face flamed.
"I said shut up, Jawfreak. Go have no fun somewhere else."
"Jawfreak, really? Is that the best you can come up with?" Grimmjow sneered. "Any place would be more fun than sitting here watching you sweat over one simple question."
"Quiet!" The blond teacher rapped the steel ruler on his somewhat cluttered desk for emphasis. "Enough arguing, kora. Now, who can help Ichigo with this question?"
Two hands shot up, one belonging to Ishida, who pushed his glasses up his nose without any airs, and the other to an enthusiastically waving Grimmjow. Ichigo narrowed his eyes and sighed softly, deflated.
"I'm not doing this to help the Berry; I'm doing everyone else a favor!"
Behind Grimmjow's seat, Nnoitra laughed and Yammy guffawed, while Stark heaved a huge yawn. They were always hanging out with Grimmjow, who was notorious for bring an all round bully and general bad boy. Most guys who weren't afraid of him couldn't stand him, and most girls who weren't busy lifting their skirts for him were swooning at his feet. Some girls even got themselves into trouble just so they could spend detention with the Blue Haired Hottie – or so he had been pegged – whenever they got wind that he'd stomped on the school rules again. The only thing that saved Grimmjow from suspension and possible expulsion was his good grades and powers of persuasion with more than half the female teachers in school. Not excluding the school librarian; a pretty young thing fresh out of teachers' college. Ichigo mused over the fleeting possibility of having a smart bully in his class, but being a bully already meant you went wrong somewhere, so he let the thought go.
Grimmjow made sure to bump Ichigo with his shoulder as they passed. The orange haired teen took the jibe silently, jaw clenched as he made his way to his desk near the window. Plopping down into his seat, his face a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, Ichigo rolled his eyes and sagged backward. Never mind being a total jerk wad with an ego the size of a massive gorilla, Grimmjow always made it his role to pick on Ichigo the most all the time. Added to that, Ichigo hated the way Grimmjow acted like a total suck up sometimes. He was in no mood for petty quarrels. He knew he was weak in math, and Grimmjow was a total genius at it, but so what? Everyone had a favorite subject and a least favorite subject. His just happened to be art. Math was just not his forte.
One desk away from him, Tatsuki shot Ichigo a sympathetic look and mouthed 'what an asshole' while jabbing her pen in Grimmjow's direction. Ichigo gave her a crooked smile and a one shoulder shrug. He felt glad he wasn't the only one who thought so.
Fiddling with his mechanic pencil, Ichigo sneakily covered his sketchbook with the slightly bent spirals keeping the paper in place with his math notebook and a plastic folder which housed most of his doodles and scrap pieces of art. The teachers never favored those who doodled in class, because it meant they weren't paying attention, but Colonello-sensei wouldn't mind. Ichigo wondered about his math teacher for a brief moment. His name sounded rather foreign, very much Italian to be exact.
Ichigo chewed on his lower lip absently, allowing his mind to wander as he gently tapped his pencil on the edge of his sketchbook. It had been a while since he'd had real spaghetti. And lunch period was taking way too long to arrive; after math he had two full periods of gym, something which he also wasn't very good at. Well, to be honest, excelling in gym wasn't something he had tried . . . yet. Mostly it was just a few rounds of football and then some track running, then hitting the showers before heading to lunch.
This brought him back to the subject of food.
Smirking as he visualized Grimmjow being eaten by a giant spaghetti monster, Ichigo set to sketching the outline of what his imagination allowed him to do. Some darker strokes here, some light shading there, and then coloring in the monster's single eye . . . time passed by quickly without him noticing. Before he knew it, the bell was ringing him out of his daydreams and class 3 – E was quickly being emptied of its students. There were shouts, whoops and whistles from outside in the hallway, and when Ichigo glanced out the window by his seat, his attention was caught by two butterflies chasing each other in mid-air, fluttering about gracefully in the slight breeze that made the willowy trees wave under the morning sun. Twisting the window's slightly rusted handle, Ichigo managed to open it with a soft squeak. He closed his eyes and allowed the wind to push his hair back from his face.
Across the classroom, Grimmjow watched the orange haired teen with a bemused expression on his face. He decided he liked the way those dreamy eyes fluttered shut, and those long eyelashes? Grimmjow felt like kissing them. First the right one, then the left. And maybe kissing Ichigo's nose. Then his lips, and trail his own lips along Ichigo's jaw line.
"Yo!" A hand clapping him on the shoulder brought Grimmjow out of his one-sided staring match. "We got gym right now."
"I know that." Grimmjow muttered, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from Ichigo.
Nnoitra gave his shoulder a squeeze and narrowed his eyes. "You been doing okay lately? Got bags under your eyes."
"Everyone has them." Grimmjow replied defensively. "Like you've never stayed up late to play Red Zone? I got to level thirty-five last night."
Shaking his head, Nnoitra clucked his tongue. "Only you'd stay up the whole night knocking away on your joysticks."
Yammy lumbered over, his backpack slung over one shoulder. "Anyone saw my gym shirt? Left it under my desk since last week."
Szayel made a face. "Gross! Don't you ever take your clothes home to wash?"
Behind them, Stark frowned. "Math is over already? What do we have right now?"
Exasperated, his three friends turned around and simultaneously yelled. "Gym!"
Startled by the shouting, Ichigo shot out of his seat, accidentally tipping his table. It rocked from side to side, as if uncertain whether to fall with a bang or stop moving and become obedient once more. Grabbing the table's sides to stop it, Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed his chair back slowly to have more room. Doing so made him hit his elbow against the window sill, and he nudged his table forward with his knee as he hissed with pain. His math notebook clattered to the floor with his folder, sending papers flying everywhere. From the other end of the room, he could hear mocking laughter coming from Nnoitra and Yammy. He turned to give them a seething glare, and caught sight of Grimmjow watching him intently, like he was about to say something. Raising an eyebrow, Ichigo shot him his best sneer and haughtily bent down to retrieve his fallen items.
Grimmjow decided he liked the smooth curves of Ichigo's ass.
"Come on, let's go." Nnoitra slung his backpack over his shoulder, kicking his chair back under his desk. "Hisagi-sensei's gonna freak if we're late again."
Giving Ichigo one last wistful look, Grimmjow left along with his friends.
As they exited the classroom, Ichigo breathed a small sigh. "Good riddance."
Where was it?
He riffled through the pockets of his slacks, then his backpack, then his locker.
"Shit." Grimmjow blew out a breath of air in exasperation as he tossed his uniform shirt into his gym locker. It crumpled up and slid to the floor unnoticed, joining a small pile of dog-eared notepaper and Grimmjow's tie. "Where's my wallet?"
Nnoitra looked at him from under his arm, where he was busy taking off his shirt. "You lost it?"
"No. I don't know."
Stark pulled himself up from the locker bench lethargically. "Where'd you put it last?"
Grimmjow snarled in frustration. "If I remembered, I wouldn't be searching for it would I?"
"Calm down." Ulquiorra tilted his head from behind their row of lockers, already fully dressed in gym attire. "Maybe you left it in your class."
Nnoitra nodded as he tied his long hair back into a tight ponytail. "Just change already. I'll help you look after this but we gotta be quick."
The gym teacher rapped on one of the lockers for effect, yelling out his commands. "Hurry up ladies! We're starting out with pushups and some track running!"
Half the locker room groaned. There were some resigned mutters, and more than a few sighs. Yammy slammed his locker door with a little more force than necessary, causing the lockers behind his to rattle and shake dangerously. While the commotion created a certain degree of chaos, Yammy spared Grimmjow a wink before blocking his friend from their gym teacher's vision with his large frame.
"Yammy, what was that?"
"The door didn't like my hand, Hisagi-sensei!"
Wasting no time, Grimmjow flung on his white and red gym shirt before flying out of the locker room with Nnoitra close behind. Stark and Ulquiorra would cover for them. They pounded up the steps to class 3 – E and Grimmjow made a dive for his desk, upturning books and sending some graded test papers to the floor before finally locating his fake leather wallet. He held it up in triumph.
"Jeez." Nnoitra muttered as he helped collect Grimmjow's stuff. "You owe me a soda."
After setting his desk to rights, his friend turned to leave, but Grimmjow lingered behind. "One sec."
He eyed a piece of paper lying on the floor in the middle of the classroom. There was one foot print near the top of it, but otherwise it was unscathed. Something was sketched onto the paper. Grimmjow sauntered over to pick it up.
"What's that?" Nnoitra asked, leaning against the doorway.
Nnoitra's cellphone buzzed and he looked around for any passing teachers before surreptitiously sneaking it out of his pocket. "Got a text. It's that girl from the group date last week."
"Mmm." Grimmjow said, distracted by the piece of paper in his hands.
"Said she wants to meet up with me on another group date this weekend. I'm allowed to invite anyone, so I'm thinking you, Stark, Ulqui, Yams, maybe Szayel from Chemistry class? Heard he's good at talking . . ."
Grimmjow tuned Nnoitra's drawling monologue out as he studied the piece of art. The comic face was drawn in a startlingly close replica of his own real one, albeit with a surprised and slightly scared expression as a large monster seemed to grip him in its tight grasp. It looked like it was oozing . . . noodles? Grimmjow squinted and tilted the paper this way and that, but couldn't really make it out. It could be some sort of noodle monster. Either way, it was a pretty good caricature. Impressed though he was, he couldn't bring himself to admit it. It wasn't signed, so he wasn't quite sure who drew it, but he was determined to find out.
He was hot and sweaty by the time he arrived in the boys' locker room. The ones who'd finished track running earlier were already coming out of the shower stalls, towels draped precariously around their waists as they chattered and rummaged in their lockers for clothes.
"My shoes stink!" Keigo groaned, fanning the air in front of his nose as he sank onto the locker room bench. "I don't get why. I even tried washing them and all that."
"Use one of those charcoal sticks." Someone suggested. "I hear they absorb odors real quick."
Chad slid into his school slacks and hunted for his towel. "Keigo, that's my deodorant."
"Don't mind me, I'm just borrowing it."
"The Great Keigo has no need for permission – gah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry . . .!"
"Gonna hit the shower." Ichigo said to no one in particular and stuffed his sweat-drenched exercise clothes into his gym bag. "See you guys at lunch."
He eyed the occupied shower stalls and sauntered down to the end ones, hoping to find one empty. All the frosted doors were shut, and he sighed. A door right at the end finally clicked open, and Ichigo hurried toward it so he could call dibs on it. He came face to face with a half naked Grimmjow, with a very short white towel hanging off his waist, collecting the water droplets that fell from the wet ends of his hair to his shoulders, and sliding down his perfectly toned chest as well as travelling over the grooves of his well defined six pack to the slight bits of blue pubes that stuck out over the towel.
A hand tilting his chin upward brought him out of his staring fest.
"Like what you see?" His tone leered, but Grimmjow's eyes looked serious.
Ichigo swallowed, feeling more than a little apprehensive.
"D – Don't touch me."
He'd stammered. Shit.
If Grimmjow noted the tremor in his tone, he didn't show it.
"Are you done?" Ichigo straightened, taking a small step back so he could get out of Grimmjow's reach. He raised an eyebrow toward the empty shower stall behind the blue haired teen expectantly.
"Showering, yes. But I'm not done with you."
Grimmjow swaggered past him after throwing him his trademark smirk – the one that turned girls' knees to jelly – and heading straight for his group of friends converging by their row of lockers. Ichigo stumbled into the shower stall, feeling mixed emotions swirling in his chest as he shut the door with a quiet click. Tossing his towel onto the silver hook, Ichigo gripped his shampoo bottle and gritted his teeth. He twisted the shower handle and allowed the water to crank itself out, cascading over his head and body.
He couldn't seem to get Grimmjow's words out of his mind.
"What the hell did he mean?"
If Ichigo could place Grimmjow into a category, he would shove him into the drawer marked 'Predatory'. The 'Asshole' drawer didn't sound so bad either, but he was going for realistic. And Predator Grimmjow on the loose was the best he could get.
It seemed like the blue haired teen was in every class Ichigo took. Advanced Chemistry, where he would sit two rows behind Ichigo with his friend Szayel. English Literature, where they shared a group for discussions. Calculus; thought Ichigo had no idea why Grimmjow didn't opt for Advanced Calc., because it seemed like a class he would fit in squarely. The only class he wasn't in with Ichigo was Art. Ichigo was immensely relieved when he'd checked around on the first day. Turned out Grimmjow and his gang had chosen Music. The orange haired teen couldn't believe his luck. Art was one of his favorite subjects, and without Grimmjow & Co. around to spoil things for him, he found he could enjoy himself in class.
Well, he shared the same art class with Ulquiorra, but he was a general live-and-let-live type of guy, something Ichigo was thankful for. He seemed neutral and polite whenever they became partners for an art project, so Ichigo figured he was alright. It was just Grimmjow he had to look out for.
That is, until his Art teacher delivered the ultimatum one fine Thursday morning.
"Alright everyone!" Ukitake-sensei flipped a lock of long white hair away from his face. "We're doing portraits today, and I'm assigning everyone a partner of their own. However, you can't be drawing each other, so I called the Music class in for this project."
The entire class groaned under the weight of realization.
"Aww, why sensei?" Someone wailed. "Didn't we just do portraits last month?"
"That was for fun! This is the real thing." Their teacher smiled as he handed out a stack of papers to the front row. "It'll count for your finals, so get your act together everyone. There will be three teachers grading you while you complete this assignment. One for expediency and realism, one for protocol, and another for your unique creativity, something I'm sure you all have buried under the layers of pop music and rebellious adolescence."
"Three teachers means three times the pressure." The guy next to Ichigo muttered to his girlfriend. "I don't know why I didn't pick music instead."
Ichigo chewed on his lower lip, mulling over the chances of Grimmjow not attending school today. Maybe, by some miraculous chance given by the gods of mercy, Grimmjow would be absent from Music class today, or maybe get hit by a truck, or flattened like a pancake by a massive bulldozer, or get stuck in a classroom with locked windows and doors. He sighed and nibbled the flaking skin on his bottom lip. These were signs that he was dreading the presence of the biggest bully in his life, but that didn't mean he was a coward who couldn't stand up for himself. If Grimmjow really wanted to duke it out with him, then he was all green light. He'd show the blue haired bastard what he was made of.
"Nervous?" Ukitake-sensei clapped a hand on Ichigo's shoulder, giving him a light, friendly squeeze. "Don't be, Kurosaki-kun. The teachers I've chosen for grading will be fair. It's all about controlling the composition and demonstrating the techniques you've learnt this year."
Ichigo threw his teacher a shy grin. "I'm not worried about that, Ukitake-sensei."
"Pre-exam jitters, then? I know everyone has been stressing out about them, but if you know how to juggle your time between relaxation and studies, everything will work out golden."
Giving his teacher a weak smile and allowing him to assume that was exactly what was on his mind, Ichigo leaned back into his plastic chair and pretended to flip through his notebook. Drawing someone else on an easel was just fine with him when his imagination flowed like liquid gold. He had no idea why he was letting his negativity get the best of him. Karma, karma, it just had to be karma.
The white double doors of their classroom banged open to reveal Yammy, his giant, hulking frame taking up the entire doorway. Ichigo could see more feet behind his, which meant the Music class students were already here. He rubbed one hand over his face, steeling himself and keeping his favorite track on a loop in his mental music box.
"Welcome!" Ukitake-sensei addressed Yammy and the rest of the feet he could see behind the giant. "Come in; please stand at the front of the class so I can assign you to your partners immediately."
The guy sitting beside Ichigo shook his head and sighed. "They expect us to draw these idiots? There's nothing artsy about them!"
Ichigo had to agree. There was a splatter of stains from today's lunch all over Yammy's dark jeans, and the glaring red and black checked shirt Nnoitra had on clashed with the fluorescent blue of his skinnies. Not much blending going on there that was easy on the eye.
"Oh god, he's assigning us by alphabetical order?" The girl behind Ichigo said in a stage whisper to her friend. "No way! I hope I get that sexy vocalist Sun-Sun was telling us about."
"No way! That blue haired one? He's hot!" Her friend giggled in the annoying girly way that girls always made a habit of. "What's his name?"
"Grimmjow." Ichigo rolled his eyes as another girl joined them. "He's seriously sexy. I heard he modeled for that famous clothing line Pantera."
"Oh my god!" More giggles that spiked a headache somewhere at the back of Ichigo's head, a little to the left. "No way! He's gorgeous."
"Someone switch seats with me." Ichigo looked up to see a guy sitting at the extreme left of the class, over to the front. "Like, somewhere in the middle, cause I can't see the board properly. Long-sighted here."
Ichigo leaped for the chance. "Sure, take my seat."
Ichigo stopped in mid-stride, one hand holding onto his sling bag and box of chalk and charcoal.
This day could not get any worse.
Grimmjow looked around the class casually until his eyes fell on Ichigo. A slow smirk sculpted his lips as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Ichigo ground his teeth, cursing his luck as he made his way to the other desk he'd been exchanged with. His only consolation was that he had a window seat away from the other Art students, which was a great thing if he decided to explode within a five meter radius of Grimmjow. Just being in the same room as the bully made him feel depressed.
Cerulean eyes searched honey brown ones with a mixture of wistfulness and curiosity. Grimmjow was fighting with his instincts, which were telling him to revert back into jerk wad mode and not stare at his crush so much, while his heart was screaming at him to leap forward and grab Ichigo into a mind numbing kiss.
Ichigo had a power over Grimmjow that he didn't even know about.
"Are you as good at Art like you are at Math?" Grimmjow chuckled as Ichigo looked up from his notebook, startled that he'd asked him a question in a civil tone.
Even if his tone seemed social, the words definitely weren't.
Turning away from the guy he hated the most, Ichigo set up his art equipment silently.
"Ah, the old ignoring technique, I see."
Feeling nothing but contempt for the blue haired showoff seated directly across him, Ichigo flipped Grimmjow two choice fingers.
"Why do you insist on making my life hell?"
Blue eyes flashed in frustration for a second before a gleam of mischievousness replaced it.
"Only yours, honey."
Ichigo couldn't resist rolling his eyes. He shared an obvious animosity with the blue haired half-delinquent in his class. or perhaps it was merely one sided, seeing as Grimmjow took great joy in the thrill of humiliating Ichigo to bits. The teen had no idea what to classify Grimmjow as. A delinquent didn't quite fit him, because Grimmjow aced almost every exam subject, he was clean; didn't smoke on school grounds or played truant, and he seemed to keep a healthy friendship with all the teachers. Perhaps charming teachers was the quickest way to get on their good side, but Ichigo was never one to judge based on flimsy gossip passed around by equally flimsy people. A full time suck up probably wasn't quite right either, because he did get his fair share of detention. Half the population of the school's girls seemed to eye Grimmjow like he was a piece of meat, and the guys were either rolling dice to be his friends or staying away from him. To stick him into the popular kid category was an understatement. Grimmjow seemed popular everywhere he went. There seemed to be a lack of labels when it came to Grimmjow Jeagerjacques, though a full time bully seemed to click. The problem was, he was nice to everyone else but Ichigo.
Weird and weirder, but Ichigo didn't have a clue what to do about it.
Grimmjow's voice brought him out of his short reverie.
"So, now that you're gonna be drawing me, I guess I'm at your mercy then?"
Ichigo raised an eyebrow. Never had he felt like wanting to switch partners with someone else this badly. "Depends. Will you stay quiet if I promise not to make you look like the true flawed individual you really are?"
Grimmjow snorted. "Touché."
Ukitake-sensei opened the door again to allow the other teachers access inside. "Okay class, this here's Kyoraku-sensei, Kuchiki-sensei and Urahara-sensei. They'll be hovering over your shoulders for the next few hours while you slog away, caving under the pressure of four pairs of eyeballs plus your partner's . . ."
Immediately on back-to-business mode, Ichigo tuned his teacher out, busying himself by tilting his easel to the right angle and figuring out which way to draw Grimmjow was best.
"And the clock starts . . . now." Ukitake clicked the palm sized, apple shaped timer on his desk. "Two hours for demonstrating art technique, one more for touching up. Begin."
Grimmjow looked at Ichigo with eyebrows raised. He'd noticed the other students already instructing their partners to face whichever way suited them nicely with the light angling down from the ceiling. Ichigo was merely clicking around with his paints set like he wasn't really into it.
"Blue eyes." He heard Ichigo say softly after a minute of silent mulling. "Blue eyes and a tinge of turquoise. Next teal bits for hair, and white for balance."
Grimmjow eyed the other teen, fascinated. He loved the way Ichigo's eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on something; the flowing music of the gentle voice he liked so much.
"Perfect." Ichigo told him quietly, much to his surprise. "Stay like that. I like this pose."
Nodding once, Grimmjow complied, shifting his weight in his chair to get more comfortable. He could handle staring at the orange haired beauty before him openly, this time with a valid excuse.
He watched Ichigo pick up his pencil, and couldn't resist one last joke.
"Do you like the pose, or the poser?"
"Less flirting, more concentrating." Kyoraku-sensei said from behind Ichigo, where he was running one finger up and down the orange haired teen's back.
Ichigo cringed, while Grimmjow narrowed his eyes.
"Less molesting my artist, more grading, sensei."
At Ichigo's blink of surprise, Grimmjow felt his heartbeat quicken. Had Ichigo noticed the possessiveness he'd let slip into his tone?
Kyoraku-sensei held up one finger, which he pointed to Grimmjow, then placed it on his lips with a mock stern look. "Can it, naughty."
Locking eyes with Grimmjow, Ichigo couldn't resist the shy smile spreading across his lips. Grimmjow returned it, but was a little disappointed to see the ghost of a smile fading away as quickly as it had appeared.
Ichigo was so beautiful.
Too bad he was just out of reach.
Cryptic might be quite a long story, depending on how far I can stretch out the love-hate tension between Grimmjow and Ichigo. That said, please feel free to review! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.