"I don't know how many times I've told you Grimmjow, if you're going to come here, you can't start causing trouble."

"I'm gonna' do whatever the fuck I want," the blue haired teen snapped back, shoving the smaller be-speckled man back.

Uryū Ishida frowned, exasperated. Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez was a regular at the shelter but he seemed to only come and fight with the others. "Grimmjow-"

"I ain't a fuckin' kid four eyes, and I ain't leavin' so just leave me the fuck alone." He glared holes at the ebony haired man, crossing his arms.

Opening his lips slightly to reply, Uryū stopped short at a knock on the door. His eyes slid over to Grimmjow once more before he heaved a small sigh and walked away.

Grimmjow watched the slim man leave, sneering in victory. Now he had the room to himself. Usually the rooms were meant to be free to everyone but the others – druggies, homeless kids, runaways and the like – they were all scared stiff of him. True, there were some that had stood up to him but it never ended well for them.

Exhaling heavily, Grimmjow threw himself on the couch, cobalt eyes sliding closed in appreciation.

He had just gotten comfortable – his arms crossed behind his head and feet resting on the end of the couch when he felt a presence above him. Growling, his brow furrowed. "You're in my light four eyes."

There was a scoff before he suddenly felt his breath leave him when a foot landed on his stomach and an unfamiliar voice – one stronger and a little smoother sounding than that of the pale, girly looking Uryū demanded, "Wanna' repeat that, brat?"

Curling up instinctively, eyes wide in shock before narrowing in anger, Grimmjow glared up at the stranger. "The fuck do you think ya're doin'?"

White canines shone through a malicious smile as brown eyes flashed in excitement. "I asked you if you wanna' repeat that."

Grimmjow frowned, eyes travelling up the slender body of a man – clearly older then himself though not by much. His view shifted from the casual appearance of the man and his relaxed stance – hands in the pockets of his tight cargo pants to his broad shoulders tucked into a tee-shirt with an obscure band on it before moving upwards to that evil grin until finally he looked up to a spiky mop of traffic cone orange hair.

He felt slightly awed for a moment – it had been a long time since he had seen hair even remotely as wild as his own hair and it was almost like seeing a long lost brother – until the young man rose a twitching eyebrow, hand reaching out to grasp lengths of Grimmjow's bright blue hair.

"Hey, anyone home?"

Grimmjow growled, slapping the man's hand away and bolting up from his seat. "Don't fuckin' touch me."

There was movement from the corner of the room as Uryū came through the doorway, seeming as aggravated as he was when he had left. "Ichigo, for the love of god, you're meant to be here to help, not make more trouble."

Grimmjow's lip curled up in confusion as the young man laughed at Uryū, shrugging slightly as he stepped back. Was he another homeless kid? He seemed different.

The orange haired man – Ichigo – smirked. "Whatever, you're just angry because you had to call me here."

Call him here? What the fuck was going on?

The four eyes seemed to pout, crossing his arms. "That's not it. I just don't want you destroying the place with your ridiculously immature behaviour."

Ichigo approached Uryū, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," he laughed. "I swear I'm going to help. Just go, don't worry about us, right Grimmjow?"

Grimmjow was now suitably confused. Help? Why the hell did he know his name?

Uryū seemed to sigh in defeat before finally shrugging. "Okay, fine. But you can be the one to tell everyone that you're a social worker, I don't want to be the bearer of that kind of news."

Social worker?

Another glowing white smile. "Oh don't worry; I think I can handle it." Then the coffee eyes turned to him, full of fight and amusement. "Then let's get started."


Grimmjow glared at Ichigo who had made himself quite comfortable on his couch – splayed out like he'd just worked a long shift, staring at the television and laughing to himself.

Just what the hell kind of social worker was this guy?

"Oi, what the hell dya' think you're doing?"

Those irritatingly reflective eyes rose to meet his stare before Ichigo grinned, looking back to the television.

It grated him.

"What's so fuckin' funny?"

"I find immature brats funny," he replied seriously, eyes not moving from the television screen.

"I – immature brats?" Grimmjow couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Hey, just 'cause you're a social worker, doesn't mean I ain't gonna' punch ya' in the face if ya' piss me off!"

Ichigo glared at him – glared – brown eyes flashing dangerously. "I wouldn't, 'cause you aren't going to win."

Grimmjow felt his imaginary bristles… bristle and he marched up the orange haired man, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him up. "Don't fuckin' piss me off."

There was a beat of silence and Grimmjow felt a victorious grin begin to fill his face. The man was silent, face slack. They were all the same; they easily faked bravado and just as easily, were pushed down by him.

Then the man's lip curled and his hand was on Grimmjow's own is seconds before he yanked it back, bending his arm at a crazy angle, making Grimmjow cry out.

Ichigo released him as soon as the sound left his lips, but he didn't look apologetic as Grimmjow cursed him, holding his wrist close to his body and hissing like a wounded animal.

Grimmjow was confused. Firstly, he didn't think that was legal and most social workers were either really gentle or pretended to be tough. He hadn't met one that was actually tough. Secondly, the man had just bent his fucking arm back.

What made Grimmjow's head spin, his eyebrows perform strange little raises and falls and his mouth fall open was the fact that the man then preceded to smile at him. Not a cruel smile, not a teasing smile. A genuine smile.

Then he laughed. He laughed.

"Learn to pick your fights better Grimmjow or you might just find yourself in more trouble than you'd care to be." Chuckling again, Ichigo stretched, crossing his arms behind his head as he walked off lazily. "I'm gonna' get something to eat. I'm starving."

Grimmjow stood rubbing his arm, watching the man's back in disbelief. Just who the hell was this guy?

"You coming?"

Growling, Grimmjow straightened. No-way was he going to be defeated by some orange haired social worker brat. "Of course!"


"Is this even edible?" Grimmjow glared at the orange haired man in irritation as they stood at the communal kitchen area, staring at the food in the container.

"Sure," Ichigo replied, a little bemused as he poked what looked to be fried rice with his fork. "Why not?"

"Don't sound so casual about it!" Grimmjow snapped. "What if I get food poisoning?"

"Then I'll just have to eat it first," he replied easily, spooning some of the strange concoction into a bowl.

"W – no-way," Grimmjow told him furiously. "Give it here."

Snatching the bowl away from his grip, Grimmjow shoved it in the microwave. He could take some funky looking food.

His blue eyes shot suspicious daggers at the man who was grinning like he'd just got what he'd wanted. That cocky bastar—


The orange haired man's head jerked at the sound and both he and Grimmjow turned to the voice.

"W – whoa!"

Ichigo watched as Orihime wobbled, arms flailing as she tried to balance, foot on a soccer ball that had been left around then stared, open mouthed as she fell backwards, landing on her backside, blinking in surprise.

"W – Orihime!"

She giggled, scratching her head in embarrassment. "Sorry."

Sighing, Ichigo went over to her. She must have been so quick to get to him she hadn't paid attention to where she was going. Leaning down he held out a hand.

She blushed; grey brown eyes stuck to the outstretched appendage before she sighed, smiling up at him and pushed herself up.

Grimmjow just watched the two of them, confused. He knew Orihime of course; she had been around since four-eyes had actually opened the joint. He had a little crush on her or more specifically, the orange haired girl's boobs. They were beautiful; big and soft and fit perfectly onto a curvaceous body. Of course, Orihime herself was a little light in the common sense department or the brain department in general and Grimmjow hated timid girls.

Still, he hadn't seen her blush around a guy before. In fact, she dealt with guys flirting with her all the time here but she had handled it like she was dealing with naughty children. Though he guessed, Ichigo was a man, not a boy.

"I heard you were around," she began, pushing her hair behind her ear as she glanced up at him shyly. "Actually, I should say that Uryū told me." She smiled. "It's good to see you after so long Ichigo. I was worried about you."

Ichigo chuckled, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You haven't changed at all Orihime." Then he closed his eyes, smiling gently as he ruffled her hair. "It's good to see you too."

Grimmjow growled protectively (though he himself didn't notice) and approached the pair, glaring at Orihime in his irritation. "You know this loser?" he demanded rudely.

Orihime seemed surprised, blinking owlishly at the blue haired teen before smiling and nodding enthusiastically. "Of course!" she cried. "Ichigo and I have been friends since hi-"

Clamping a hand over Orihime's mouth, Ichigo grinned at Grimmjow, though it was easy to see he was irritated. "Alright, that's enough. You have food to eat."

Gritting his teeth, he stared at them for a moment before going to get his food. One thing he hated about social workers was that they expected you to lay it all on the line when they didn't give you anything in return. It pissed him off.

As he stared at his food, Grimmjow felt his hunger dissipate and he shoved it on the bench before stalking off muttering, "I'm not hungry anymore."

Ichigo watched him go, confused. "Ah, sorry Orihime. I'm going to go. But hey, nice to see you. Let's catch up properly, okay?"

Orihime smiled as she watched him grab the bowl, cursing at how hot it was before sprinting off. It had been so long since she'd seen him she had almost forgotten how moving he was. He was good looking, sure. However, it was his presence she found the most attractive. It was like he was… well… she breathed out a laugh. He was quite unable to be put into words.

Her mind drifted as she stared at the space he had been just moments before and she thought to who exactly he was chasing after and laughed again. If Ichigo was here, there may be a hope in getting Grimmjow around. A small one, but a hope nonetheless.

And perhaps Grimmjow was what he needed as well. Maybe Grimmjow could help him heal.