The Stranger, Chapter 13
Author:
honey_mellon
Title: The Stranger
Rating: R
Pairing: Kurosaki Ichigo, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques
Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect from an R-rated yaoi fiction
Summary: Ichigo is staying with his uncle, who operates a store along a rarely-traveled road. It's a peaceful, relaxing place, until a mysterious stranger shows up at their doorstep, injured and unconscious. AU.
COMMUNITY DISCLAIMER: All characters depicted in sexual situations in this post/fanfiction/fanart (including material in the comments) are fictional and are intended to be and considered to be by the author of said material of the legal age of consent in the United States state of California, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
It's about time this story gets an update. ;) It's a little short, but this is all I could crank out with my tight schedule. Hope it doesn't disappoint.
Body shivering from cold and exhaustion, Ichigo rested his forehead against the window, his knees drawn up to his chest as he sat in a tiny corner of the hospital waiting room. Rain drops continued to splatter against the glass on the outside, but the soothing sound was lost on him. He wished it would stop. He wanted to be able to open his eyes and see bright, cheerful sunlight instead of this grey, lifeless sky above him. He wanted someone to tell him that he had simply fallen asleep on the way back from the hospital and that everything had been a dream.
But of course nobody could tell him that. The sickening smell of antiseptic and soft, clipped chatter around him reminded him that everything was very much real.
He was alive. Shaken and scraped-up but alive while doctors desperately worked to save the others.
His uncle.
Grimmjow.
Ichigo closed his eyes and bit down on his lower lip to stop it from quivering. He supposed he should be thankful that the doctors at least had something to work on. The image of the brunette's still form on the ground flashed in front of his eyes unbidden. That could've been them. He had thought that they were gone too.
"Here."
A steaming mug was thrust in front of Ichigo's face, and he looked up into an open, friendly face.
"Thanks," Ichigo mumbled, reaching up to accept it. He brought the mug to his chest, more for the warmth than anything else, and blew on it absently. The hot chocolate smelled rich and creamy, but he had no appetite for it. For anything.
The redhead who handed him the beverage sat down next to him and leaned back against the window pane. Ichigo didn't want him there, but he was too tired to ask him to leave, so he just let the man be. He knew the guy was just trying to be nice.
They'd all been alright so far. The tall one with the eyepatch - the one Ichigo had mistaken for the Grim Reaper in his half-conscious state - kept looking at Ichigo like he wanted to say something, but every time he opened his mouth, the green-eyed one would shut him up with an elbow in the gut.
"We're Grimmjow's friends," Green-Eye had said. "We're here to help."
Why couldn't they have come sooner?
Ichigo breathed out a sigh and closed his eyes. He was so confused. Who were they - or rather, what were they? Who was the mystery man who wanted to kill them? More importantly, why? Nothing made sense, yet Ichigo was too worn out, too numb, to ask.
"He's a tough bastard," the redhead said suddenly.
Ichigo blinked and stared blankly at the man. He'd never seen anyone with so many tattoos before.
"Grimmjow, I mean," the man added, mistaking Ichigo's silence for confusion.
"I know," Ichigo muttered. He looked away, not wanting to mislead the redhead into thinking that he wanted to talk.
Unfortunately, either the man was too thick to get the hint, or he simply ignored it. "I've known him for years," he went on, much to Ichigo's dismay. "He always bounces back. It's like the fucker has nine lives or something."
Ichigo grunted and stared pointedly out of the window.
"Leave the kid alone," another voice drawled. It was the sleepy-looking guy, Starrk. Ichigo remembered his name because he had been the one who scooped Grimmjow up from the ground. The front of Starrk's shirt was muddied and smeared with blood, but he seemed oblivious to it.
Despite himself, Ichigo turned and said in a tired voice, "It's okay."
Starrk gave the redhead a kick in the shin, shooing the younger man out of the way before settling down beside Ichigo himself.
"Renji's right, though," Starrk said good-naturedly. "Grimmjow's strong, he has seen worse."
Ichigo couldn't hold it in anymore. "Just...what do you guys do?" he demanded, frowning.
Starrk's lips quirked into a small smile. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but I guess an exception is in order given the circumstances, isn't it?"
Damn right it was. Ichigo sat up straighter and leaned forward, anxious to finally learn the truth about his lover.
"We call ourselves Hollows," Starrk began, crossing his arms over his chest casually. "When the higher ups need to clean up a mess, they call us. When they want somebody to disappear discreetly, they call us."
Ichigo had to grit his teeth to stop his mouth from falling open. "Like some sort of secret agent?"
Low chuckles rumbled in Starrk's chest. "Quite a bit less glamorous than that I'm afraid," he said ruefully. "We..." He gestured to the others, who were watching the two of them. "We technically do not exist."
Ichigo frowned, not understanding it one bit.
"I, for example, 'died' in a car accident four years ago," Starrk continued in a tone that was way too calm for what he was saying.
"Skiing accident," the redhead chimed in with a lopsided grin.
"Killed in action in a gang war." The tall one pointed to himself, then he lifted the patch that was covering his left eye, showing off a scar that cut horribly across his eyelid.
Green-Eye scoffed but said nothing, showing no interest in sharing his story.
"And Ulquiorra here," Starrk chuckled again. "He got blown to bits so small they couldn't find his body."
Ichigo had to shake his head to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Then, something dawned on him, and his eyes widened. "Grimmjow too?"
"Six years ago," Starrk nodded. "Supposedly died after going after the man who murdered his partner. He was a Special Agent of the DEA at the time."
Ichigo suddenly understood. "That man..."
The silence that followed confirmed his suspicion.
"It was pure luck back then," Starrk went on. "We came across Grimmjow during one of our...assignments. We took him in, nursed him back to health."
The tall one let out a crude snort, his lips stretched into an amused smirk. "More like we dragged in his half-dead carcass," he cackled, sounding far too cheerful to Ichigo's liking. "Stupid fucker wanted us to off 'im when he woke up. Blabbered on and on about failing and shit, but H liked him, and he ended up joining us."
"H?" Ichigo echoed. This was beginning to sound more and more bizarre.
Starrk nodded. "Our Chief. He's the one who hand selects the team. Quite the eccentric fellow, but he has our back. In fact, he's on his way here as we speak."
Ichigo could only stare at them all, his eyes wide and mouth agape. This all sounded so...outrageous, yet these people looked absolutely serious. Grimmjow, a secret government agent; so secret that his existence had to be wiped out just so he could work under the radar of the law. Ichigo felt like he was in a cliched action movie.
And then a realization dawned on him, and his heart sank to the cold, dark pit of his stomach. Now that Grimmjow had his old life back, that would mean...Ichigo closed his eyes and rubbed his face vigorously, suddenly furious at himself. What a childish, selfish thing to think right now. He shouldn't be thinking about this, not when they weren't even sure if Grimmjow would survive the night. Swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat, Ichigo looked away and tried to ignore the looks of sympathy sent his way.
Starrk glared at Renji for what felt like the hundredth time that night. He could tell that his teammate was itching to talk to Grimmjow's young friend. Renji tended to be especially talkative when he was restless or stressed, but Ichigo was obviously distressed enough; the last thing he needed was to be pestered by an overly-friendly, obnoxiously loud redhead. Starrk felt bad for the poor kid. The moment the boy's face turned pale, Starrk knew - Ichigo had just realized what he would have to face when Grimmjow woke up.
There was no doubt in Starrk's mind that Grimmjow would wake up. He had to. They didn't spend all this time searching for him just to have him die on them before even setting eyes on their long faces. They'd been waiting for this moment, all too eager to give Grimmjow a piece of their minds for running off on his own with his personal agenda. Starrk would think that his blue-haired friend should know by now that they stuck together, through thick and thin. They were already pursuing Aizen anyway, couldn't Grimmjow just trust them that they'd do everything in their power to bring the man down?
But off he'd gone, not caring that he was putting their mission in jeopardy, not caring that the team would be forced to deny his existence should he get into trouble; and now look what happened. Lost memories could be retraced, but a broken heart would never be the same again. Grimmjow had had his crushed a long time ago and was just beginning to learn how to cope; now, another one would be shattered. Starrk sent the kid a worried glance. Ichigo was staring intently out the window, lower lip tucked between his teeth, brows furrowed in a look of concentration. But Starrk knew that the kid's mind was anywhere but here.
He was debating whether he should simply escort Renji out of here when loud, confident footsteps approached. Recognizing them immediately, the group perked up, each unfurling from their resting positions to greet their leader.
"Took yer long 'nuff," Nnoitra grumbled.
Their Chief flashed them a grin, albeit one that was more sombre than his usual freakishly wide ones. "Nice to see you too," the man said, giving Nnoitra a mock salute before nodding curtly to the others.
Next to the window from his little corner, Ichigo looked up curiously, his eyebrows shooting up when he laid eyes on their flamboyant superior. Starrk supposed that was to be expected; after all, Hirako Shinji was not the most conventional-looking man, especially for someone in his position.
Ichigo didn't know what to make of the man now standing in front of him. He'd never seen anyone in such a bizarre outfit: a checkered skinny tie around a slender neck, decorating the front of a bright orange t-shirt that hugged the man's lean figure snugly, face framed by long, stick-straight blonde hair with a severe, lopsided fringe. It was an ensemble that looked like the result of a joint project between a fashion designer and a mad scientist. While they're high, too.
"So you're, uhh...H." Ichigo shook the man's hand and tried hard not to let his disbelief show.
The blonde man chuckled. "Was that how I was introduced? Tsk," sharp brown eyes rolled in exasperation. "Please, call me Shinji."
Ichigo could only nod dumbly as his fingers were crushed by Shinji's deceptively strong hand.
"Now, who wants to tell me the whole story?"
Ichigo wanted nothing more than to shrink back into his little corner and tune everything out, but he had no choice but to fill the man in. He recounted the day Grimmjow appeared at their doorstep, how they couldn't find any information on him, and finally, what happened during the brief but violent exchange with the brunette assailant.
"That was Aizen Sousuke," Shinji explained as he settled into one of the chairs and swung one leg over the other. "One of the most notorious wanted man by the DEA. Drug Enforcement Agency, if you don't know. Grimmjow was one of their top special agents, until things became personal."
Ichigo swallowed, recalling what Aizen had said and what Starrk had mentioned.
"He went against his Chief's explicit orders not to get involved," Shinji continued with a frown. "He did manage to catch up with Aizen, but the idiot was outnumbered and outgunned, of course. After that, Aizen went under the radar, until a year ago. He popped up all of a sudden, and we were sent to shut him down. The minute I received word of the assignment, I just knew there was going to be trouble." The blonde sighed. "Sure enough, the next morning, Grimmjow disappeared."
"Stupid fucker left us a fake trail," the tall, black-haired agent growled. "By the time we realized we'd been tricked, we've wasted too much time, and we lost 'im. Took us a while to track him down."
Starrk nodded. "We suspected that something must've happened to him, because he wasn't where Aizen was. We eventually narrowed it down to this area, and we've been keeping watch. In fact, we've even been to your place."
Shinji let out a grunt at that. "If you guys had reported that to me right away, I could've saved us all this trouble. But nooooo, you just had to decide that you were better off on your own," he said with a healthy dose of resentment.
Ichigo would've been amused by the other agents' reaction under different circumstances, but as it was, he simply blinked in confusion as the men blushed and fake-coughed sheepishly. He looked at Shinji, who leaned forward in his seat, playful expression gone. Ichigo's heart began to race, but nothing in the world could possibly prepare him for what the blonde leader said next.
"Our team is one of the most specialized, most classified organization in the world. Not many even know its history, including these idiots here." After glaring at his subordinates, Shinji paused and pinned Ichigo with a serious gaze. "It was founded twenty two years ago by a man who has since become a legend within our ranks. His name, is Urahara Kisuke."
To be continued...