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Two Sides to Every Coin	By : Raceysama Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 3000 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from these works......

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
CHAPTER 2: REVELATION
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...

11:30 PM
THE NIGHT BEFORE
"What did he look like?" Tousen asked.
Szayel Aporro Grantz shifted in the uncomfortable cafe seat, before taking a tentative sip of the hot chocolate he'd ordered. He always did have a strange weakness for the sweet drink. Szayel adjusted his glasses and glanced at the man seated beside him. Ilfort Grantz sat regally in the hideous seat and shrugged, his long, blond hair sliding across his shoulders.
"He had orange hair," Ilfort stated blandly. Szayel sighed.
"Approximately 5'11", bright orange hair, brown eyes, lithe build. His fighting style was raw and rather wild, but he was quite strong. He has potential," Szayel stated firmly. Ilfort chuckled disbelievingly.
"Potential, you say? The kid was like an animal. He's perfect," Ilfort commented.
Szayel shrugged and sipped his hot chocolate, knowing that Ilfort was absolutely right. The boy had been similar to a starved lion finally presented with prey. It had been frightening yet beautiful to observe. Szayel's lips quirked into a small smirk. That boy would make excellent research material.
Ilfort stood, adjusted his purple v-neck shirt and black slacks, and slid his arms into a black blazer. As he untucked his hair from the collar of the blazer, he smiled down at Szayel.
"Well, it seems like my job here is done. I've got other business that requires my attention, like sleeping," Ilfort dead-panned. Szayel smirked.
"Yes, how very urgent," Szayel quipped. Ilfort's smile widened and his dark eyes gleamed.
"You're always so serious, little brother. That's what happens when you don't get laid," he said saucily and sauntered away.
Szayel's eyes followed Ilfort's retreating form until he disappeared out of the exit. His brother was so carefree. Sometimes Szayel wondered if there was anything the man truly cared about.
"Can you bring him to me tomorrow, Szayel?" Tousen asked, bringing Szayel back to the here and now. Szayel scoffed haughtily.
"Do you doubt my skills, Tousen?" Tousen grinned.
"Of course not, but the sooner the better. Aizen is not willing to wait on this matter," he replied.
Szayel nodded as he finished off his hot chocolate. Then he remembered that Tousen couldn't see him, so he cleared his throat and replied "understood" as he pulled out his wallet. Tousen reached across the table and covered Szayel's hand with his own. Szayel's eyes widened.
"I'll take care of this. You just bring the boy to me tomorrow night. I'll be at Hueco Mundo. I believe Stark has an appointment, so that should serve as good incentive for him if he's as wild as you say," Tousen explained as he rose from the table.
"Fine."
Szayel had been floored. How in the world had Tousen known what he had been doing? Incredible. Szayel watched as Tousen pulled his own wallet from the back pocket of his pants, dropped a few bills on the table, and proceeded towards the exit. Absolutely incredible. Maybe Szayel could persuade Tousen to be a research subject. He snorted. Yeah, right.
Szayel gathered his long, tan trench coat and made for the exit himself. He had a job to do.

7:30 AM
MORNING AFTER
Ichigo's alarm blared, jarring him from the most peaceful slumber he'd ever had. He turned to his left side and reached for the alarm clock. After shutting the noisy contraption off, Ichigo slowly sat up, and immediately regretted doing so, because his whole body ached as though he'd just run a marathon. What the hell? Maybe he'd really been more tired than he realized.
Ichigo cautiously shoved his blankets aside and stood, only to have his legs nearly buckle. Holy shit! His legs felt like rubber and his back was as stiff as a board. Not to mention, his arms felt like he'd been lifting weights for hours. What the fuck was going on here? Why was his whole body so sore?
Ichigo trudged to the bathroom and flipped the light on. He went to empty his bladder, but the moment he went to pull himself free from his boxers, his eyes widened comically when he noticed the bandages on his knuckles and forearms. WHAT THE FUCK? Ichigo held his hands up in front of his face not believing what he was seeing. Why the? When did? Shit! What the hell was happening here?
Ichigo took a deep breath and backed into the sink. Maybe he'd been so tired, he hadn't noticed waking up and hurting himself. Or bandaging the wounds. Right. He knew that sounded as plausible as pigs flying. So, what the fuck could have happened, then? Ichigo turned to face the mirror and stared at his reflection. Was he finally losing his mind like his old man always feared? He certainly hoped not.
Raking a hand over his face and through his orange spikes, Ichigo sighed dejectedly and stepped out of his pajama pants and boxers. There had to be a reasonable explanation. There had to be. There was no way in hell he was going crazy or some shit like that. Ichigo turned the shower on and climbed under the hot spray of water. No way.

He hated this place almost as much as he hated the man seated across from him behind a huge mahogany desk. This stupid office in the high rise building that hid Hueco Mundo in its depths. The stiff security one needed to pass in order to even get to this floor, nevermind the office itself. The sheer, overwhelming wealth and power the man held. He hated it all, but none more-so than the man himself. Sosuke Aizen.
Grimmjow stood with his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his blue jeans as he stared at Aizen. The man hadn't moved or spoken since Grimmjow arrived. It was pissing him the fuck off, but he couldn't do shit about it, and that pissed him off even more. He shifted his feet restlessly, fighting the urge to growl. The fuck was the asshole waiting for?
As if answering his silent question, the office door swung open behind him, and Ulquiorra stepped inside carrying a manila folder. Hn, this was interesting. Ulquiorra shut the door and stepped up to Aizen, handing him the folder. Grimmjow watched as Aizen swiftly perused the folder's contents, then after a minute, Aizen's brows rose as he looked up to meet Ulquiorra's gaze. Ulquiorra nodded and Aizen's lips quirked as he refocused his penetrating stare on Grimmjow.
"Thank you, Ulquiorra, that will be all," Aizen spoke smoothly. Ulquiorra nodded deeply.
"Yes, sir."
Ulquiorra quickly left the office, shutting the door softly behind him. Grimmjow's eyes never left Aizen's. This guy made everything so fucking mysterious and dramatic. Grimmjow just wished he would get on with it because he was slowly drifting past the bored phase. Finally, Aizen raised a brow in amusement and smiled.
"When Neliel brought you to me, I must say, I did not think you had this much potential. I was satisfied using you as just a retainer. As we can see, I lost an employee because of my underestimation of you. You defeated Zommari quite easily and assumed his rank as Septima Espada rather naturally. Which is why I gave you the position of Sexta Espada and demoted Luppi to Septima Espada. Luppi no longer deserved to be Sexta. It pleases me to see that you've maintained this position. So much, in fact, that I'm now willing to accept you officially as the permanent Sexta Espada. You will receive payment accordingly. Do you have any questions, Grimmjow?"
That was the most Grimmjow had ever heard the man speak all at once. He was still stewing over the "retainer" comment, but his mood quickly brightened when he heard the words he'd been waiting for ever since he beat that big dude. You will receive payment accordingly. Damn straight! Now he could move outta that crap apartment and buy a car. Finally.
Grimmjow grinned widely as he mentally started making plans for his new income. He still hated Aizen with a white-hot passion, but he would focus on that later.
"No, I don't have any questions," Grimmjow stated distractedly. The silence that followed pulled his attention back to the man before him, who was currently raising a brow. Grimmjow ground his teeth together in agitation. "No, I don't have any questions, Aizen, sir."
Aizen nodded and waved his hand in a vague gesture of dismissal. There was a soft snicker in the corner of the room. Grimmjow turned and scowled at Gin Ichimaru. He didn't like that fucker either. Gin was creepy, what with his constant smile and his never-open eyes, and on top of that, the guy was sneaky. Besides, Grimmjow wouldn't be surprised if he found out that Gin was fucking Aizen. It would make a lot of sense, actually.
Grimmjow curled his lip at Gin and left the office. As he shut the door behind himself, he ran into Stark.
"Oh, Grimmjow, are you going home?" Stark drawled.
"Yeah, why?"
"I need to stop by before my appointment tonight. You need your rank tattoo."
Grimmjow's eyes widened before he nodded his consent and watched Stark disappear into Aizen's office. He had completely forgotten about that.

"It was just a small scuffle. I went to the store to get some pain killers after you guys left, and a couple of guys tried to start trouble. No big deal," Ichigo lied.
He certainly wasn't going to tell his friends that he didn't have the slightest idea how he got the cuts on his knuckles and forearms. Or about finding his favorite hoodie on the coat hooks next to the front door, shredded and bloodied. It would be better to keep this to himself until he could find out what exactly had happened.
"Jeez, Ichigo, you must be outta shape if they managed to touch you at all. They wouldn't have been able to touch me," Renji boasted from his spot on the love seat.
"Shutup, bastard, they caught me by surprise!" Ichigo argued.
"Riiiiiiight. Renji, they probably would have left you unconscious. You still haven't beaten Ichigo once since we met at Seireitei," Shinji laughed while Chad nodded somberly. Renji pouted.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled.
Everyone laughed at this statement. They all knew that Renji was a sore loser and hated the fact that he had never completed his goal of besting Ichigo.
Ichigo glanced at the clock on the wall and yawned loudly. His body was exhausted and all he wanted to do was sleep. Shinji took the hint and gathered his lime green hoodie. Ichigo could never understand the man's affinity for bright colors.
Shinji was wearing a sky blue t-shirt, light blue skinny jeans with a lime green belt. His high-top sneakers were a mixture of both lime green and sky blue. Add to this ensemble his bright blond hair, and Shinji looked like a bag of tropical flavored skittles. Ichigo chuckled at the thought.
"That's Ichigo's way of saying 'ok, get out'," Shinji stated as he pulled his hoodie on.
Ichigo grinned sheepishly. At least he wasn't lying about being tired, because his body really did feel drained. He didn't know why either. Sure, his body was sore, but he'd been worse off before, and his body had never demanded sleep the way it demanded it now.
Renji's phone chirped, and Ichigo noticed how Renji seemed to blush as he checked the screen. Mmm, now that was interesting. Ichigo sidled up behind Renji and peeked around the man's shoulder. Ichigo's eyes widened when he saw the recipient of the reply text message Renji was in the middle of typing. Byakuya? As in Byakuya Kuchiki? Rukia's brother? Holy shit!
Ichigo backed away cautiously as not to alert Renji to his peeking. Once he felt he was at a safe distance and opened his mouth to speak, he noticed Shinji and Chad watching him curiously. Shinji's right eyebrow was raised. Ichigo just stared back because he didn't know what to say. He didn't know if Renji wanted anyone to know just yet. If he did, wouldn't he have said something already?
Shinji shrugged and opened the front door before turning back to call out to Renji.
"Yo, cherry-red, you coming?"
Ichigo knew he wasn't the only one to notice how Renji jumped like a cat with its tail on fire. Renji stuffed his phone into the pocket of his khaki cargo pants and grabbed his gray, hooded jacket.
"Yeah, I'm coming," he mumbled.
Ichigo plopped onto the couch once everyone had gone. What was up with Renji texting Byakuya? Ichigo vaguely remembered meeting Byakuya while they were still at Seireitei. Rukia had introduced him as her step-brother and the man had barely spoken. So, that's why Ichigo didn't even know Renji and Byakuya were on speaking terms, let alone anything romantic; and it had to be romantic because Renji had almost turned as red as his hair. The only time Ichigo could remember Renji blushing like that was when a girl from Seireitei had asked him out. Other than that, Ichigo was hard-pressed to recall additional events. Not to mention, the six year age gap between the two. Oh yeah, and let's not forget the fact that Byakuya was colder than a lake in the winter. Ichigo shook his head. It was truly baffling.
Unfortunately, that was the least of his worries. Ichigo still needed to figure out why he couldn't remember how he got those cuts on his knuckles and forearms, but for now, he was showering and going to bed.

"So where do you want me to put this?" Stark inquired, with an utterly bored expression.
"Fuck if I know," Grimmjow shrugged.
"How 'bout ya get it on yer ass?" Nnoitra grinned.
"How 'bout I put my foot in yours?"
"Ooo, ooo, I know, I know! Right here!" Nel exclaimed as she sprang from the couch.
Grimmjow watched warily as Nel crossed the room and lifted his t-shirt, then placed her small hand on the right side of his lower back. Grimmjow frowned in confusion.
"Ok, you got me. Why there?" He asked. Nel smirked devilishly.
"Well, I think it would look pretty hot there," she stated as if daring him to argue. Grimmjow scowled as his face slightly pinkened.
"I don't give a shit about that," he grumbled. Nel's high-pitched giggle caused Grimmjow's scowl to deepen.
"Then it's settled," Halibel added impatiently. "I have other, more important, things to do, Stark."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I've got an appointment anyway," Stark replied.
When Grimmjow had first been introduced to the Espada ranks, he'd sorely underestimated Stark. The lazy bastard turned into an entirely different person when he fought. It was fucking scary.
"Take off the shirt and lay on your stomach," Stark ordered after setting up what looked like a cushioned fold-out table and a stool.
Grimmjow maneuvered his plain white t-shirt over his head and lowered himself onto the table. He tried to keep his tremors to a minimum, because he really didn't want anyone to know that he wasn't very keen on needles. Especially that idiot Nnoitra. He would never let Grimmjow live it down.
As Stark prepared his tools, Grimmjow used this time to survey the people scattered about his living room. Ever since the formation of the Espada team, it was mandatory that all team members bear witness to the tattooing of a new recruit. Something to do with loyalty or some shit. Grimmjow didn't know. He'd never actually witnessed someone else being tattooed since the current members were there by the time he was recruited.
Grimmjow had seen them all fight at one time or another though, and he had a basic grasp of their personalities. Grimmjow's gaze landed on Stark as the man pressed a piece of paper with a gothic-stylized six printed on it, to the lower right side of his back. Stark held it there for a few seconds, then peeled it off and retrieved the tattoo machine, starting it up.
"I'm starting," Stark rumbled, before pressing the machine to his back. Grimmjow ground his teeth together. Shit! He fucking hated needles.
To take his mind off of the fact that there was a needle currently digging into his skin, Grimmjow observed his teammates, starting with the huge man that was smiling at Grimmjow from the love seat he reclined on alone.
Yammy Riyalgo, the Decimo Espada, was damn near seven feet tall and pure, hulking muscle. He was brown-skinned, with hazel eyes and his black hair was braided into four large cornrows. He also sported a thick goatee, and wore his tattoo of the number ten on his left shoulder. Grimmjow didn't think the guy was too bright, but he was strong as hell. Grimmjow had seen Yammy fight once and if Grimmjow'd had a shred of decency in him, he probably would've felt bad for Yammy's opponent. Yammy's fighting style had no particular technique, it was just brute strength.
Grimmjow had heard from Nnoitra, that Yammy was recruited by Ulquiorra, but Grimmjow thought that was strange. Yammy wasn't too particular about Aizen since all he really cared about was fighting, whereas Ulquiorra damn near licked Aizen's shoes whenever the man was around. Grimmjow chuckled at the thought.
Next, Grimmjow glanced at the peculiar man standing near the window with his arms folded across his chest. Aaroniero Arruruerie (good luck pronouncing that; Grimmjow still couldn't do it, to this day) was the Noveno Espada. The man had bright red hair, worn in a single braid that reached his waist, and odd wine colored eyes. He was around six feet tall with a medium build, and wore his tattoo of the number nine on his left cheek.
Grimmjow thought Aaroniero was strange not only because of his looks, but because the man rarely spoke. When Grimmjow had seen the guy fight, he wasn't surprised to see that he imitated his opponent's fighting style and turned it against them. Grimmjow thought it was creepy though, because Aaroniero would only observe his opponent for a minute, two the most, before knowing his opponent's exact fighting style and technique.
Neliel had been the one to tell Grimmjow that Aaroniero was recruited by Zommari Leroux, the man Grimmjow defeated for his rank. Aaroniero and Zommari had been friends since they were younger, which Grimmjow found damn near impossible because of Aaroniero's lack of speech.
Then there was Szayel Aporro Grantz, the Octavo Espada, who was also the medic slash scientist of the group, and had been recruited by Kaname Tousen. Szayel had pink fucking hair, for pete's sake. Grimmjow knew he had no room to talk with his blue tresses, but at least his was blue and not a pansy ass color like pink.
Szayel also wore a pair of silver framed glasses that sometimes hid his honey colored eyes. He was around six feet and elegantly slim. Grimmjow didn't particularly care for the guy because Szayel had an arrogantly superior attitude. Grimmjow knew that he himself was an arrogant ass as well, but Szayel took arrogance to an entirely new level.
Szayel also had a habit of referring to people as research material. Fucking weirdo. Although, Szayel did keep company with a relatively sane guy who was also Szayel's brother. Ilfort Grantz. Grimmjow felt bad for the guy having a brother like Szayel, and wondered what that relationship was like.
Grimmjow remembered seeing Szayel fight once, and failed to repress the shudder at the recollection. Szayel used his intelligence to analyze his opponent and determine his/her weaknesses. Once he did, Szayel would use his knowledge of human anatomy to cause maximum amounts of damage with deadly precision. The bad thing was, Szayel would wear an insane grin with an equally insane gleam in his eyes as he picked his opponent apart.
Another thing about Szayel was that Grimmjow had never seen his tattoo. Grimmjow wasn't about to inquire about it either. That would make it seem like he gave a shit, when he so obviously didn't.
Speaking of that fucker, where the hell was he? Grimmjow scanned the room and sure enough, Szayel was missing. He wasn't the only one missing, though. That prick Luppi wasn't there either. Grimmjow looked over his shoulder at Stark.
"Stark, where's Pinky and the little prick? I thought everyone had to come to these things," Grimmjow asked, through clenched teeth. Stark had finished with the outline of the six and had just begun filling it in. Stark paused momentarily but started again as he began to explain in a low, bored tone.
"Luppi has been disposed of because of his disloyalty to Aizen. Turns out, Luppi still held a grudge against Aizen from being demoted to Septima Espada, and had plans to have Aizen killed. Gin found out somehow and...well, Luppi is no longer with us, which is where Szayel's absence comes in. He is currently assisting Tousen in finding a recruit to replace Luppi," Stark licked his lips and sighed as if he had just exerted too much effort in his explanation.
Grimmjow, on the other hand, felt like he'd been side-swiped. Holy fuck! He knew Luppi had been demoted, but he didn't think the little prick would be dumb enough to try to go against Aizen. Not only that, but that was how Aizen dealt with disloyalty? Death? Grimmjow didn't need Stark to explain what he meant by 'disposed of', he wasn't an idiot.
"Che, Luppi was beggin' for it if ya ask me," Nnoitra drawled as he sat back on the couch and stretched his legs under the coffee table.
"Yeah, well, nobody asked you!" Grimmjow snapped. God fucking damn it! Would Stark hurry the hell up already? Shit stings.
Nnoitra smirked and put his arms behind his head. Speaking of Nnoitra Jiruga, he was the Quinto Espada. Lanky fuck was the closest thing to a friend Grimmjow had, and that was only because their personalities were so similar. Jiruga was crude and blood-thirsty. So was Grimmjow. Jiruga didn't give a shit. Neither did Grimmjow. They both shared an unhealthy lust for fighting, terrible tempers and neither had any plans to change.
Grimmjow also knew that Nnoitra was an openly perverted bastard. When Jiruga took an interest in someone, he let it be known, regardless of the means. He also wore his rank tattoo on his pierced tongue. Grimmjow had called him a gross fucker when Nnoitra showed off the tattoo, and the man had only grinned lewdly.
At one of Nnoitra's fights, Grimmjow noticed how fast and slippery the man was. Nnoitra also used his height as an advantage, usually getting a kick out of holding his opponent back by the face with his long arms, in true cartoon fashion.
Grimmjow remembered Nnoitra telling him the story of his recruitment a while back. Nnoitra claimed he had been on his way home, when a group of guys surrounded him, saying that Nnoitra owed them money. 'I probably did, but that don't mean I'm gonna sit there and get mah ass kicked,' Grimmjow recalled Nnoitra telling him.
Nnoitra went on to say that by the end of the fight, he had lost his left eye. Stark had been on the other side of the street, on his way home with his little sister Lilinette, when he noticed the fight. Once it was over, Stark had introduced himself to Nnoitra and taken him to see Aizen that same evening. Szayel was at the office and offered to repair Nnoitra's eye. 'And the rest is history,' Nnoitra exclaimed at the end of the story.
Grimmjow shook his head as he remembered Nnoitra's excitement while reliving the fight. They were eerily alike. Grimmjow's eyes landed on Ulquiorra, who was currently holding up the wall near the front door, with his hands deep in the pockets of his black suit's pants. Ulquiorra's emerald green eyes were closed and he was resting his head against the wall. Grimmjow wasn't fooled by the man's relaxed look, because he knew that Ulquiorra was immensely alert. Probably taking notes in his head for Aizen.
As well as being the "event coordinator" and "office manager" for the Espada, Ulquiorra was the Cuarto Espada. Or as Nnoitra liked to call him, "the bitch". Ulquiorra could only be described as petite for a man, standing at around 5'7" and probably weighing no more than 130 lbs. He always wore suits, unless he was fighting, his expression rarely, if ever, changed, and he was fiercely loyal to Aizen.
Watching Ulquiorra fight was disturbing, because every move he made was calculated, and caused his opponents to fall helplessly into his carefully constructed traps. Needless to say, Ulquiorra was a strategic fighter. During one of Ulquiorra's fights was the only time one could catch a glimpse of the four tattooed on his chest. Not that Grimmjow gave a fuck, he was just saying.
Nel had also been the one to fill Grimmjow in on Ulquiorra's recruitment. Aizen had recruited Ulquiorra at the age of ten to be Aizen's errand boy. Ulquiorra had been found by Aizen, walking the streets, freshly escaped from an orphanage, and taken under the man's wing. Ulquiorra proved himself to be loyal and once he turned eighteen, Aizen had given him the Cuarto Espada rank.
'No wonder Ulquiorra was so fucked up,' Grimmjow mused. 'He spent half his life alone, and the other half with a power-hungry sociopath.' Grimmjow laughed heartily inside. What? He thought he made it clear that he didn't like that creepy fucker.
Halibel was hands down, the scariest woman he'd ever met in his life. She was brown-skinned like Yammy, but had bright blonde hair and clear, green eyes. Halibel wore her hair short, except for two long pontytails in the back, and one in front. She was about 5'9" and curvy as hell. Not that Grimmjow would mention that out loud. Yammy had made the mistake of commenting on Halibel's "humongous rack" and paid for it with a broken nose.
Halibel was the Tercero Espada, and well-deserving of that position. Grimmjow noticed during one of her fights, that Halibel's tattoo was on the inside of her right breast. Considering how quiet and serious she was, Grimmjow hadn't expected her tattoo to be in a spot like that. He expected that kind of thing from Nel, but definitely not Halibel.
Halibel had been recruited by Tousen as a replacement for Nel when Nel had retired. Halibel protected her rank fiercely because she had three younger siblings to care for. Grimmjow remembered Nel calling them Apacci, Mila Rose, and Sun-Sun.
Speaking of Nel, Grimmjow could recall the day that he met Neliel Tu Odershvank, and had his life turned upside down. Nel, the former Tercero Espada, was capable of disarming one with her large, gray eyes, long, sea-foam green hair, and curvy shape. No one would expect her to be such a strong fighter.
Although Nel was strong, she didn't like fighting, so, when Grimmjow came across her being jumped by a gang of men, all he saw was what he thought was a helpless woman being taken advantage of. Now, don't get him wrong, Grimmjow wasn't trying to be some sort of hero or some shit, but he had been bored out of his fucking mind and itching for a fight. Lo and behold...
So, Grimmjow went to Nel's aid, only to see her completely demolish one of the men for knocking over the artwork she'd been carrying. Grimmjow finished the men off, with one of them, a dark-haired, stocky fellow, vowing to get revenge. Nel had thanked him at the time, but proceeded to entice him with promises of being paid to fight. How could he say no?
Grimmjow remembered Nel telling him that she had been a former fighter, and showed him the three that she still wore on her back, as a sign of her loyalty to Aizen. Aizen had only allowed Nel to retire because she made more money for him as his advertising rep. When Nel had taken Grimmjow to meet Aizen, she conveniently failed to mention what a prick the guy was. Aizen oozed charm and consideration, but in reality, the man couldn't care less about anyone other than himself. But, that had been how Grimmjow became affiliated with Aizen.
The Segundo Espada, Barragan Luisenbarn, had been the self-proclaimed "king of the underworld". Barragan was 45 yrs. old, but moved like he was only in his late twenties, early thirties. He had shoulder-length, silver hair, dark eyes, and a tattoo of a five-point crown under his left eye. He had a medium build and stood around six feet.
Grimmjow didn't personally know much about him except that he was always followed by six people-Grimmjow didn't know their names-he was nicknamed the "grim reaper", and when Gin tried to recruit him, Barragan had flat-out refused. It took Aizen's promise of money and power to convince the man to join. Grimmjow had no idea where Barragan's tattoo was and he didn't want to know either.
Last but not least, there was Stark Coyote, Primero Espada. As Grimmjow stated before, when he'd first met Stark, he'd completely underestimated him, because the fucker had seemed so damned lazy. Stark was around 6'2", had a muscular build, shoulder-length, wavy, brown hair and gray eyes. The tattooed number one adorned the back of his left hand. He always spoke like he was so tired and bored, and when he wasn't fighting, he was arguing with his little sister, Lilinette Gingerback.
Grimmjow had only seen Lilinette a couple of times, but he remembered the little blonde firecracker. She had these strange fuschia colored eyes that seemed to glow when she and Stark argued. Even arguing, Stark was a lazy bastard, but get him into Hueco Mundo and his entire demeanor changed drastically.
Stark would become as serious as the plague, using his intense speed and acute vision to take his opponents apart. His fights usually ended quickly because of that. After witnessing Stark fight, Grimmjow knew he'd made a serious mistake in thinking the man didn't deserve to be Primero Espada.
"Done," Stark murmured and began to clean his tools and pack away his supplies.
Grimmjow hadn't even noticed that Stark completed the tattoo, wiped away the excess ink, and applied some type of ointment to the fresh six, because of his thoughts being elsewhere.
"Good, that shit was fucking annoying," Grimmjow grumbled crankily.
"Well, bastard, yer an official Espada now," Nnoitra said, rising from the couch.

"Yeah, I am."

He was better prepared this time. He'd remembered to put on a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt and a black hoodie. He wore a black pair of Ichigo's sneakers to finish the ensemble. Now he was ready to cruise the city.
He grabbed the apartment keys from the silver dish Ichigo kept by the front door and slipped into the night. He glanced down at his watch. 11:15 PM, huh? Still fairly early, he supposed. Ichigo's classes would start tomorrow, so he had to get back at a reasonable time. He couldn't have his King falling asleep on his first day of classes.
He had just rounded the corner, when two men stepped out of the shadows. Wow, how lucky was he? Two nights in a row he had men just presenting themselves to him. He grinned and stepped back into a defensive stance, but one of the men held his hands up in a gesture of peace.
"We don't want to fight you," the one with pink hair stated.
"Yeah, we already know what you're capable of," the blonde one added, with a grin.
"Oh yeah? Ya know me er somethin'?" he asked cautiously. He didn't want to get King in trouble.
"No, but you see, our boss would like to meet you," pink hair said.
"Who's yer boss, and why's he wanna meet me?" he continued to question.
"You can see for yourself. We're not here to hurt you, but we did see you in action last night, and our boss wants to offer you a job," blondie said.
He narrowed his eyes and considered what blondie had just told him. He had to admit, he was curious.
"What kinda job?" he had to cover his bases.
"We can show you better than trying to explain it to you," pink hair said impatiently. He paused before answering.
"Fine, I got some time to spare," he said slowly.
"By the way, what's your name, kid?" Blondie inquired.
He smiled slowly. Yeah, there was a name he'd always been partial to.
"Call me Shiro."
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Two Sides to Every Coin