The Stranger, Chapter 14
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.
After an eventful week, here I am back with the next installment of The Stranger! I'm not entirely happy with it, but after reading and editing it over and over again, I think this is the best it will get. Sigh.
So I know a lot of you were shocked that Kisuke is the founder of the team. This chapter will explain his history and hopefully answer most of your questions. It's quite dialog-heavy, though, so do bear with me. ;)
"His name is wha-?"
Ichigo couldn't contain his shock as he gaped dumbly at the blonde chief. Did he just...how could it be...Uncle Kisuke? Impossible!
"No way," he croaked, suddenly feeling like he'd just swallowed a mouthful of sand.
Shinji simply gave him a somber look. "Your uncle was an outstanding agent, but first and foremost, he was a brilliant scientist. One who was devoted and extremely passionate about his work. He believed that sharing knowledge amongst the top minds in the world, classified or not, is the future, and he formed the team with that goal in mind. Except, the people above were not too fond of the idea. But they let him play along, not willing to alienate their most valuable researcher."
Shinji's eyes hardened.
"And this...is where it becomes fucked up," he continued darkly. "Eventually, your uncle found out why his contacts seemed to have lost interest in their collaboration after a while."
Ichigo gulped, a sense of foreboding rising in his chest.
The blonde agent leaned forward and said, in a calm but seething voice, "You see, they were being wiped out, one by one. Your uncle's research, stolen by his very own superiors, was secretly used to create instruments of war. By the time he realized what was happening, half of his team had already been converted from scientists to assassins. Furious but unable to regain control over his project, he abandoned his life's work and left the agency. The higher-ups had wanted to eliminate him, but his successor put a stop to it."
"You did?" Ichigo asked, wide-eyed.
Shinji shook his head with a smile. "Pfft, no, it wasn't me. I was barely out of college at the time. It was Kyoraku Shunsui, one of Kisuke's closest friends and one of the last of the original research team. They desperately needed someone to hold the organization together, which was on the brink of collapse after your uncle's sudden departure. Shunsui took it over on the condition that the agency would break all ties with Kisuke and stop their pursuit."
"Please tell me they didn't end up murdering this Kyoraku person," Ichigo mumbled.
Shinji snorted and leaned back against the back of his chair. His eyes fleeted over to his subordinates, who were staring at him, all looking nearly as surprised as Ichigo was. "Nah, he retired eight years ago, and I took over," he said, rolling his eyes at the other agents. "By then, he had managed to split it into two divisions. The research team, and then there's these jokers here: operations. It's the best compromise Shunsui could wrangle out of the hard heads above. When Shunsui left, the operations team had just started, and I built it up over the years, one idiot at a time."
"Hey!" The gangly, one-eyed agent protested with a scowl. "How are we supposed to know that this shopkeeper dude is our great-grand-boss if you don't tell us anything?"
"Irresponsible," Green-eye muttered under his breath.
The entire time, Ichigo could only stare blankly from one face to another, his mind reeling from the shocking revelations. His unclewas one of them. Just like Grimmjow. Somehow it was easier to accept the fact that his mysterious lover had such a colorful identity, but his uncle? It just seemed too...surreal.
Starrk patted Ichigo's shoulder soothingly. "I know it's a lot to take in at once, kid."
"Uh huh." Ichigo nodded, not quite recognizing the raspy voice as his own. "So...what do we do now?"
"Now?" The blonde Chief pursed his lips into a thin, grim line. He glanced at the entrance of the waiting room. "Now, we wait."
Despite his calm exterior, Shinji was fretting inside.
What a day it had been. First, he'd finally heard back from his team, which had suddenly gone MIA in the middle of a mission, only to find out that they'd nearly lost their field leader. It wasn't like the team hadn't gone under the radar for long periods of time before, but this was the longest time yet. Then, imagine his shock when he was given the description of the men who'd gotten tangled in this whole mess.
Urahara Kisuke was easily one of the most mysterious man in history of the agency. Much of the technology that were currently in use by the thousands of agents out in the field had been results from the man's research. Yet, not many people knew of him, because his very existence was classified. A taboo. But to those in the know, the ones who hadn't forgotten their roots, like Shinji, Urahara Kisuke was a legend. To know that he was here, right in this building, sent chills through Shinji's spine. He felt like a child all over again.
And then there's Jaegerjaques. That man was a cold-blooded killer on a good day. On a bad day, he was a maniac; cruel and merciless. But he wasn't always like that. When he first joined the team, he was an emotional wreck, a man so thoroughly heartbroken that he had no will to live. Then one day, after witnessing the team in action, something finally snapped, and he had been that way since. It was as though he'd suddenly found a new purpose in his life. Shinji wasn't exactly proud of the fact that he was responsible for bringing forth that side in the man, but it was a necessity in his position.
Now, with Aizen's dead and gone, which Jaegerjaques would Shinji find when the man woke up?
Feeling a headache coming on, Shinji sighed and massaged his temples, but his reverie was cut short abruptly when two figures burst into the waiting room; a tall, thin man with flowing white hair and a bulkier one sporting a handlebar mustache. Shinji shot to his feet immediately.
"Juushirou!"
Ichigo practically launched himself at the white-haired man, who caught him in a tight embrace. The anguish on the man's face was clear.
Recognizing the shopkeeper's partner, the other agents straightened up as well. Shinji gave the two of them a few minutes to comfort each other, then he went up to the older man and offered his hand. Juushirou returned the handshake, his grip ice-cold but firm.
"Ichigo called me," Juushirou explained, pinning them all a questioning and determined gaze. "Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on."
Ichigo had never heard Juushirou curse in his life. Never, not even when he was angry with his uncle's maddening ways.
The sense of betrayal that Ichigo was battling doubled when he found out that they had kept their suspicions from him, that they'd even known about Grimmjow's mysterious "death" all along. They could've at least warned them! He couldn't help but think that perhaps things wouldn't have ended this way if they had.
"I'm sorry," Juushirou said softly, resting a hand on Ichigo's shoulder.
Ichigo resisted the urge to shrug the hand off. He had all the right in the world to be angry, but honestly what could he do at this point?
Juushirou's hold tightened. "We didn't want to alarm you when we had so little information," he continued. "On hindsight, that was a terrible decision."
This time, Ichigo snorted before he could stop himself. Keeping his eyes trained on the carpet, he mumbled bitterly, "No shit."
They fell silent after that. No words could convey their anxiety. It had been nearly four hours since the surgeries began, and there hadn't been an update since. It was only natural to fear the worst, even though Ichigo refused to voice it out loud. No matter how angry he was at his uncle, worry triumphed it at the moment. He would give Uncle Kisuke a piece of his mind after this was over.
Even though Ichigo was certain that he wouldn't be able to rest till then, he did doze off eventually. The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake by Starrk. He sat up, blurry-eyed and groggy with a headache, then immediately scrambled to his feet when he noticed the doctor at the entrance. What he heard next felt like a punch right in his gut.
"-they lost a lot of blood-"
"No!"
Everyone turned to stare at Ichigo, who had stumbled to the front, face pale and eyes wild.
No, this couldn't be happening.
"No, please-" he choked out, his voice cracking as he felt the world crumble all around him.
The doctor cleared his throat. "Well, as I was saying, they lost a lot of blood, but they'll live."
There was a stretch of silence as Ichigo stood there with his mouth hanging open, a mixture of disbelief and despair frozen on his features. Then, the moment was shattered when the agent with the eye patch scoffed, "Get a grip of yourself, kid."
Ichigo shook his head and was about to yell at the man when Shinji whacked the back of his subordinate's head with a strong swing of his arm.
"Like you're any better, Jiruga!"
And just like that, all the bottled-up tension drained from the waiting room. The men visibly relaxed, even the green-eyed one, who had been mostly expressionless the entire time. Ichigo's knees went weak, and he slumped bonelessly into the nearest chair, not caring when his elbow smashed into the arm rest with a resounding crack.
The next hour crept by like a stream of molasses. They watched the patients being wheeled into the Post Anesthesia Care Unit, but were kept from the room until the nurses had them settled in properly. And then after that, the two men were each only allowed a five-minute visit from one person.
Ichigo looked from one agent to another, his lips set in a firm line that left no discussion as to whom gets the visitation right for Grimmjow. When each of them simply nodded, Ichigo blew out a long breath and stepped into the recovery room with Juushirou. Nearly all the beds were full, but all Ichigo saw was the shock of blue hair that stood out starkly against the crisp white sheets.
Grimmjow looked ghostly pale, his head, abdomen, and bicep swathed in layers of bandage. His face, covered in cuts and bruises, tilted slightly to the side as he slept, and Ichigo couldn't help but reach out to brush his fingers over the older man's cheeks. The doctors were confident that, given his physique, Grimmjow would eventually be back at a hundred percent, but he had a long, long road to recovery ahead of him.
Now that the scare was over, Ichigo could no longer escape from the reality of their situation. His chest ached, not only from the sight of his lover like this, but also from the dreaded reminder of what was going to happen when those eyes open. They were from two completely different worlds, and once Grimmjow woke up, he would return to his world, where Ichigo didn't belongand would never belong. Letting go would be painful. But there was no other choice, was there?
"Hey," he muttered, even though he knew that Grimmjow wouldn't be able to hear him. He could've waited until Grimmjow regained consciousness before seeing him, but he wanted one last quiet moment alone with the man, even if it was just five minutes.
And that was exactly how Ichigo spent the rest of the precious time - simply sitting next to the bed and watching the peaceful expression on Grimmjow's face, determined to commit every detail to his memory, down to the very last eyelash.
The first thing that registered in Grimmjow's mind was the sound of rhythmic beeping. At first it seemed distant, and then, as consciousness slowly returned to him, it grew louder, and louder, until he thought his head was going to explode. He winced and let out a groan, wishing he could clamp his ears shut, but his arms felt too heavy, like they were tied down with weights. And then, as the fog in his mind slowly lifted, all the other aches and pains on his body, slightly muted as they were under the painkillers, made themselves known one by one.
"Sir, can you hear me?"
Struggling against his drooping eyelids, Grimmjow cracked an eye open to find a young woman hovering above him. For a moment, he was confused, and then everything rushed back with shocking clarity. Ilforte. Aizen.
Ichigo.
A sudden bout of nausea seized him as he panicked, and he instinctively tried to sit up. Immediately, red hot agony bloomed in his stomach, and he cried out in pain through gritted teeth, eyes watering as he struggled to breathe.
"Take it easy now," the woman said gently as she eased him back onto the hospital cot. "Your friends are safe, so you can relax."
That was the last thing Grimmjow remembered before he slipped under again, his strained body once again overcome by pain and shock. But somewhere in his groggy mind, the nurse's words managed to register, and he allowed himself to pulled into the depths of sleep.
When Grimmjow woke up again, it was to the presence of a doctor next to him. The middle-aged man straightened up and smiled when he felt the penetrating gaze from half-opened blue eyes.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Jaegerjaques?"
It took a handful of swallows before Grimmjow could produce an alarmingly weak croak, "Ichigo."
"Ah, your buddies are doing great." The doctor snapped on his stethoscope. "I'll let them know that you're awake in a minute. Now let me just-"
Feeling a familiar pang of anger, accompanied by rising panic, Grimmjow cut him off hoarsely, "Where are they? I want to see them right fucking now!"
The doctor ignored his outburst and simply held him back as he pressed the stethoscope on Grimmjow's chest. Grimmjow frowned and was about to yell again when a voice piped up cheerfully behind the man.
"Ah, our Sexta is back alright."
Grimmjow's eyes widened in recognition. There was only one person who could sound so ridiculously chirpy under these circumstances. "Chief!" he blurted, straightening up and wincing when his battered body protested the sudden movement.
The blonde agent shot him a grin and stepped into the room. Behind him, a group of men fanned out, revealing one familiar face after another. His teammates, his friends - people that he'd thought he would never see again.
"Nice to see you too, asshole," Renji greeted, loud-mouthed and loving as usual, just the way Grimmjow remembered him.
Too surprised to do much else, Grimmjow could only sit and listen in stunned silence as his teammates brought him up to speed about the situation. By the end of the briefing, there was only one thing on Grimmjow's mind.
Aizen was dead.
The man who'd murdered Ilforte, the one who had nearly destroyed him, was dead.
So why was his heart so heavy? His confusion was short-lived, of course. He knew exactly why.
"Ichigo," he whispered, not caring that the word came out sounding like a plea.
For a second, there was only silence, then the men parted, making way for the skinny orange-haired boy now standing at the doorway.
"I'm here."
Ichigo looked unharmed except for some scrape marks on his arms, but amidst the relief etched on the boy's face was a touch of sorrow that Grimmjow wasn't expecting. He looked to Shinji - who simply shrugged - then he looked to his team members - all of which shrugged and glanced knowingly at Ichigo - and then it finally dawned on him. Despite the rock concert that was going on full swing in his head, something clicked in Grimmjow's mind, and he suddenly understood.
So Ichigo knew everything now; about his past, about what he was. And surely, the boy must've come to a conclusion of what this all meant.
Grimmjow's chest clenched as he looked longingly at his young lover, remembering the intimate moments that they'd shared, the budding feelings that they'd just discovered, the unconditional trust that Ichigo had in him. There was no question what his next step was going to be.
Closing his eyes, Grimmjow blew out a long breath. "So," he said. "I guess this is farewell."
To be continued...