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Untrained Heart	By : Raceysama Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Grimmjow/Ichigo Views: 2124 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, nor do I make any profit from these works......

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
CHAPTER 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach...
Onwards...
XOXOXO
Grimmjow shuffled into the darkened bar and made his way to his normal seat at the far end of the long, wooden partition. It was always empty whenever he arrived and for some reason, he felt that it was kept that way on purpose. The bartender, a tall, dark-haired man by the name of Nnoitra Jiruga, stood wiping down a segment of the bar, his left eye mysteriously covered with a black bandana. This evening, Nnoitra wore a loose-fitting, black t-shirt and blue jeans.
Grimmjow climbed onto the black, leather stool he always occupied and waited to catch Nnoitra's attention. Pleasantly enough, he didn't even have to because Nnoitra sat a large mug filled with beer, the white suds lining the rim, right in front of him, not even ten seconds after he'd taken a seat.
Wearing a grin, he lifted the mug and sipped, his eyes sliding shut in gratification. This was the only worldly "sin" he allowed himself to indulge in. Ever since he'd been nineteen and had met Barragan, who shortly after, introduced him to the wondrous beverage called beer, he hadn't been able to stop drinking it. He never had enough to get inebriated, but he did love the taste of it.
It was slightly bitter, cold and carbonated, the aftermath leaving his gut simmering in a slow warmth. He loved it. Neliel scolded him sometimes, but then she would laugh at herself, claiming she kept forgetting he was "all grown up now". He didn't see how she could forget. It wasn't like he still looked like a teenager.
Remembering his teenage days was like walking through a prickly rose bush: painful and frustrating. He had been tall, gangly and his hair had never seemed to listen to his repeated attempts at brushing and combing it. Before he'd hit puberty, his voice had been squeaky and annoying, which only added to his desire to remain silent.
Then, when sixteen rolled around, he suddenly noticed that girls eyed him more and guys began giving him dirty, jealous looks. He didn't understand why, although he had been intensely grateful his voice had stopped cracking and squeaking. He had wanted to have friends, tried talking to other teens his age, but their conversations never went well. Girls said strange things to him about his muscles and his hair, not to mention his eyes, but whenever he had managed a response, they always got pissed or moved to tears. Again, he hadn't understood why. He had merely distanced himself, deciding keeping away was a better, less stressful option. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about having awkward conversations or making girls mad at him for no apparent reason.
Grimmjow wrapped his hand around the handle of the mug and passed his nose across the rim of the cup, enjoying the unique smell. He wasn't into hard liquor because it was too easy to get intoxicated and he didn't like the feeling of being unable to control his behavior. When he'd first started drinking beer, Barragan hadn't offered any restraint and since Grimmjow enjoyed the taste of the new beverage so much, he'd consumed more than he should have.
The results, in his opinion, hadn't been pretty and light years away from fun, but Barragan had thought the spectacle was hilarious and had laughed unceasingly, thoroughly having a ball at his expense. Grimmjow hadn't been able to stop talking about any and everything that came to mind. His speech had been pathetically slurred and his clumsiness had been set to EPIC. Barragan had ended up making him crash on his couch, while he called Neliel and let her know where he was staying for the night.
Ever since then, Grimmjow limited himself to two, never more, for fear of having an encore of that night so many years ago.
Grimmjow took another swallow of the cold brew and allowed his eyes to surreptitiously roam the bar, sweeping over a few men and women. He noticed a man wearing a bright orange t-shirt and the color immediately reminded him of Ichigo. Ichigo, with his kind eyes and soothing voice. Ichigo, who possessed a body that made Grimmjow curious and inquisitive.
Ichigo, who had been kissing his roommate.
Grimmjow scowled, confused as he peered down into his frosted mug. He didn't know it was OK for men to kiss other men the way Ichigo had been kissing his roommate. In society, he'd always seen women kissing men and vice versa. He, personally, didn't see the problem with men kissing other men, but from what he'd seen around, he was sure it was frowned upon. Grimmjow just thought if you liked someone, then you should be able to kiss and be with that person, no matter what their gender was.
He had always wondered about that since his high school days. Why was it bad for those of the same gender to be with each other intimately and romantically? Why did society have to label everything and if it didn't fit into what they believed was right, why did they shun it, rather than learn about it? Neliel had told him that although it wasn't acceptable for the same gender to be together that way, if he ever decided to be with another man, she wouldn't look down on him or make him feel bad about it. He supposed he was grateful for that, but then again, he didn't see why she would in the first place. That vicious little circle of inquiry just kept wrapping itself around his mind.
His thoughts went back to the shorter, orange-haired man. If he had been kissing his roommate, did that then mean that they were...involved...in that manner? Grimmjow hadn't meant to snoop, but he had taken off after work and halfway down the drive remembered that he'd left his saw and gloves. He supposed he could have left the items there, but by the time that thought had even crossed his mind, he was already parking and striding over to retrieve them.
That's when he'd seen Ichigo and his roommate through the kitchen window. He stroked his chin and pondered. Was that why Ichigo had been all bent out of shape over Grimmjow seeing him naked and showering? Because he kissed other men?
Did he kiss other men? Or was it just his roommate?
Grimmjow didn't know. He knew that the conversation he'd overheard through the open kitchen window implied that Ichigo's roommate was the only one he kissed. Ichigo had yelled and been angry, but his roommate had remained calm and almost unmoving. It didn't seem like he and Ichigo were on equal footing in their...relationship?
He ran a hand through his hair and frowned. The dark-haired man didn't seem bothered by Ichigo's yelling, but it had bothered him because for some strange reason, he didn't like hearing Ichigo upset. When Ichigo had yelled at him about the shower incident, something had rolled over in his gut and punched its proverbial pillow.
A hand on his arm distracted him from his thoughts and made him turn to seek out the source. A tall, red-haired woman with crystal-clear, blue eyes stood beside him, smiling demurely as she looped an arm through his and slid onto the stool beside him. She wore a sleeveless, short, black dress, belted at the waist with a wide, bright red patent leather belt and red, come-hither pumps.
"Hey, Grimmjow. How you doing tonight?" she asked and he frowned. She asked him that every time she saw him.
"I'm doing fine," he stated plainly, turning his attention back to his mug.
She leaned closer, pressing her soft, ample breasts against his arm, her voice lowering, becoming throatier. "I missed you," she purred, nosing his cheek.
Grimmjow's frown deepened and he pulled away. He didn't like when other people crowded his space. He gave her an incredibly blank look before averting his gaze, "Why? I was here; you weren't."
The woman fake-pouted and edged even closer, breasts molesting his right bicep, "I know. I had some things to take care of, but I still missed you. Why are you always so cold?"
Grimmjow grunted and swirled his mug, making its contents slosh against the sides, "I'm not cold."
"I can warm you up," she said in a low, husky voice, completely ignoring his previous statement.
Grimmjow turned to her and gave her a slow, calculating look, meeting her sultry, blue eyes briefly before letting his own travel over her bodacious body and her large, perky boobs nearly spilling out the front of her dress. He had urges, just like any other male and right now, those urges were nudging him, telling him that it had been quite a while since he'd gotten laid.
He grinned crookedly, not meeting her eyes, "You wanna fuck me again?" he asked.
The woman chuckled, lowering her head before shaking it slightly in amusement, "No beating around the bush for you, huh?"
"Why would I do that?" he questioned seriously, brow creasing in confusion.
She stared at him after arching an elegant, strawberry-blonde brow, "Nevermind. You know I do."
Grimmjow nodded shortly and chugged the contents of his mug. After placing a few bills on the counter, he calmly stood, the woman rising with him. He eased her arm from his, still not comfortable with her proximity and started from the bar, the red head laughing behind him as she followed.
XxxxxxX
Grimmjow scowled in pleasure as the woman, Rangiku, swallowed his length and massaged his balls. She was really good at that. Her tongue was like a strip of molten lava, silken and scorching, wrapping around him like an embrace. He arched his back, seeking more friction, more slick heat. His hips began moving with a mind of their own and his hand dug into her long, lustrous, reddish-orange hair. He grunted, his mouth opening slightly as he matched her mouth's rhythm with his hips.
Settled on her pink, fluffy bed, in her bubblegum pink room, his mind was a million miles from where it needed to be. The pleasure was intense, but his mind wasn't on the woman performing in his lap. It was fixed on another person with similar colored hair, only this person was a man with butterscotch-brown eyes and a lulling voice. Why his thoughts were on Ichigo, went beyond him. Normally, he was focused on Rangiku with no problems. She had been the one to relieve him of his virginity at the age of nineteen in the back of Barragan's workshop.
She knew he was different and didn't seem to mind one bit. He knew she was rather friendly with the male population and didn't give a snap. Being inexperienced, Grimmjow had been forced to go with what he'd heard from other teenage boys boasting about sex and what he'd seen in magazines. Rangiku had made the entire ordeal much less stressful, being older and more versed in the art of fucking.
So, why was his mind flung towards Ichigo when he was getting laid?
Rangiku ran her hands up his chest and rubbed the pads of her thumbs across his nipples, making him stiffen, his abdomen contracting as he licked his lips, body tingling. Grimmjow glanced down and almost leaped from the bed when the visual he was greeted with was not Rangiku, but Ichigo. Smoldering brown eyes gazed up at him, while those full lips hugged and pulled on his dick.
What the fuck?
Gasping softly, he tugged her off his shaft and pulled her upwards. She straddled his waist, her ice-blue eyes glowing and lusty as she bent to kiss him. Grimmjow flinched and turned his head, scowling angrily. He didn't like kissing. It was disgusting and he didn't understand why people did it in the first place. The first time Rangiku had kissed him, he'd thrown up all over her. Luckily, she'd chalked it up to his strangeness and left it alone.
Sometimes she forgot that he didn't like to tongue wrestle, though.
"Don't kiss me," he mumbled.
Rangiku snickered and shifted their positions until she was on her hands and knees, looking over at him impatiently, "I know, I know. I'm just hoping you'll change your mind one day," she said.
He didn't realize that she was teasing him as his scowl deepened and he grunted, "I won't."
Grimmjow climbed to his knees and readied himself behind her. Suddenly, Neliel's voice penetrated his mind. Be sure to use a condom if you're not ready for children, Grimmjow. He made a noise and reached over the side of the bed for his discarded pants and the condom he always made sure he had in his wallet. Pulling it free, he tore open the package with his teeth and rolled it over his painfully hard erection.
Once again, he positioned himself behind Rangiku, but when he looked up, he saw Ichigo again. He shook his head in frustration. Why the hell was he seeing the orange-haired man at a time like this? Ignoring it, he sunk slowly into Rangiku's warm sheath, until he was fully seated. He hissed at the sticky tightness and closed his eyes. He wasted no time starting up a hard, frenzied rhythm, only slightly aware of Rangiku's loud, panting moans. A sexual haze descended over him, blinding and numbing him to anything other than the ancient ritual of flesh sliding over flesh. He gripped her waist and panted, his breaths coming out in short huffs as he felt his release thundering towards him.
His muscles tensed, his entire body tingled like it had fallen asleep and the next thing he knew, he was shouting his orgasm, pressing into her deeply, one last time. He took a minute to catch his breath before snatching out of her quickly. He glanced down at his spent member and sighed in satisfaction. He threw a look at the clock over her bedroom door and growled low in his chest. It was eight-thirty pm. He hated diverging from his routine, but sometimes even he made exceptions.
He pulled the contraceptive off and wrapped in it in one of the tissues from the box Rangiku kept on her night stand. Positive it was wrapped completely, he tossed it in the small, metal bin and hurriedly began slipping into his clothes. He felt Rangiku's eyes on him, but he was in too much of a rush to comment on it. Unfortunately, she didn't feel the same, "Why do you always leave in such a hurry? You could stay sometime, you know."
Grimmjow didn't even look up from shoving his feet into his boots as he replied, "I don't like it here; your stuff is too pink. I also have more important things to do."
Rangiku was silent for a few beats before she finally gave a hushed chuckle, "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were insulting me."
Grimmjow stood and glanced down at her before quickly looking away. "I'm not insulting you," he defended with a slight scowl.
"I know. I was only teasing you, Grimmjow," she said, her voice light and airy.
There was some more silence before Grimmjow shifted uncomfortably. "I have to go," he stated and moved to her bedroom door.
"See you next time."
That was the last thing he heard before he shut the door behind himself and left the house, then headed out to his truck.
XXX
"Mm, Bya… kuya."
Pants and moans filled the heavy air in the overly heated room. Two figures were on a bed, tangled together in a mess of limbs.
Despite their fight from earlier, Byakuya had approached Ichigo after dinner and pushed him against the counter, taking his mouth with a vengeance. Ichigo could do nothing but mold into him, sliding his hands down his back, knowing how much Byakuya loved it. The situation had only escalated from there, leaving the two stumbling up the stairs and shedding any clothes they could before hitting the bed.
Byakuya had mouthed his neck, sucking and biting, drawing out hissing moans from a writhing Ichigo, who could only scrape his short nails along sleekly muscled, alabaster arms.
The raven haired man wasn't usually one for sex after an argument, so this turn of events was very much surprising to Ichigo. Though he wasn't complaining by any means and immensely enjoyed when his lover became passionate, there was a nagging feeling on the edge of his conscience. He couldn't discern what it was, so instead, he lost himself to the overwhelming feeling of Byakuya nearly ripping off his shirt. Ichigo arched up into a hot mouth that trailed down his subtly toned chest, teasing and licking tanned flesh to perfection.
You could say what you wanted about Byakuya's seemingly emotionless disposition, but he was an incredible lover. While Ichigo could only compare him with a few other men, he was certain Byakuya was light years ahead of anyone else he had been with, when he was completely focused on pleasuring Ichigo.
And he was definitely demonstrating his skill right now, deftly opening Ichigo's loose fitting pants and sliding them down his thin hips with a gracefulness Ichigo could never master in all his years. Ichigo let out a long, throaty moan, when a set of lips wrapped snugly around his length. Despite never saying as much, Ichigo knew his lover thoroughly enjoyed hearing his screams. Byakuya himself wasn't very vocal during their intimacy, which if Ichigo ever admitted it, was a turn on in itself.
His hands threaded into midnight black hair, fingers curling and uncurling when waves of pleasure washed over him, caressing him into his orgasm. Ichigo heaved a deep breath, lying boneless against the bed as Byakuya sat up, smirking sensually at him with an uncharacteristically devious expression on his beautiful face.
"Finished, Ichigo?" he purred, sliding his hand along the orange haired man's sun kissed thigh, spreading it out for him.
"Nngh," was the gargled reply.
Ichigo had his eyes closed, letting out a soft groan when that mischievous hand ghosted over his slowly awakening arousal, slipping lower past his balls to circle his entrance. He felt the force of a lubricated finger pushing into him, making him open his eyes and gasp loudly. Instead of his stoic lover, there stood a blue haired man, a sexy, crooked grin twisting his lips.
Blinking away the incredibly arousing image, Ichigo could only pale and feign a moan as he thought over what had just happened. Was he really thinking about Grimmjow at a time like this? Really? The man was undeniably the sexiest thing he had ever seen, but still, picturing Grimmjow fingering him instead of his lover?
He was so fucked, literally and figuratively.
XXX
Monday rolled around, Ichigo dressing in a worn sweater vest and soft, brown slacks, trying to tame chaotic orange spikes into doing what he wanted for a change. Sadly, there was only so much a black comb and water could do.
He trudged out of the house in a sour mood, scowl firmly in place. Normally, he was upbeat and anxious to get to Karakura Elementary and couldn't wait to see the bubbly faces of his adorable students.
That changed when he realized Grimmjow was coming today.
Just the thought sent Ichigo into a frazzle. He couldn't understand what happened with Byakuya the other night; it was just terrifying. To think of a man he had just met in such a manner, to think of someone other than his lover… it was appalling. He felt disgusting, like he had actually done the act with Grimmjow instead of just fantasizing about it.
After his momentary lapse in sanity, he had practically shut down with Byakuya, barely finishing. Byakuya had, and retreated to his side of the bed immediately after. Ichigo frowned at the thought. He knew Byakuya never liked to cuddle, but he would have appreciated not being treated like some sort of sexual machine.
Ichigo sighed with a heavy heart, beginning the walk to the bus stop. He squinted his eyes at the viciously bright sunlight trying to assault him from the clear blue of the sky. Right as he got to the bus stop, the clunky vehicle in question chugged up the hill. Ichigo couldn't help but chuckle as he gathered the change needed to ride, knowing the bus would be heavily crowded for today's stressful ride.
Lo and behold, the only seat left was next to an older woman, mouth tight in a permanent frown. It wasn't that he had something against the elderly, no, just this particular woman. Whenever he had the displeasure to sit next to her, she always asked him at least twenty questions, digging into him like he had something to hide. Which, he really did.
The questions about his personal life were the worst.
Do you have children? Are you married? Who do you live with? Got a girlfriend? And so on, and so on.
Being gay in the sixties could get you killed if you said the wrong thing at the wrong time. In his youth, Ichigo had dodged the proverbial bullet several times. His hair was unfortunately the first clue. It wasn't his fault it was such an unnatural color, but thanks to it, a lot of men instantly thought something was off with him, and when they found out his name, that was it. The label was sewn in, regardless of his sexual orientation.
Faggot.
In high school, he was mercilessly teased, called every derogatory term for a homosexual invented, pushed into lockers and so much more. It was hell. Without his best friend, Rukia, he wouldn't have survived. They were a team, always watching each other's backs. Rukia was short and petite, beautiful. Girls were nasty to her, as well.
But they made it out alive.
Now, Ichigo was living a quiet life, trying to stay away from the city, where he knew he couldn't live with another man without retributions. People would whisper, find out, try to hurt him. Hurt them. Especially if Byakuya's job found out.
Ichigo was knocked out of his thoughts as the bus began its creaking motions, signaling him to take a seat. Reluctantly, he sat beside the old woman, trying to compact himself and pretend he was interested in his own thoughts. In reality, he didn't want to go back down that dark road of his past.
The ride was quiet. Ichigo could not have been more relieved when he stepped down onto the concrete, tempted to bolt down the street. He had more dignity than that, though, and instead, settled for a brisk walk. The old woman was not the least of his problems. Sometimes, men would hang around on his route to the school, intentional or not, he couldn't tell. They never said anything, but almost always had disgusted expressions on their faces.
Like they knew.
Faggot.
He wasn't weak; he wasn't afraid. He just…was so tired of having to fight for something everyone else had.
Luck was on his side today, and he made it to his classroom in one piece. Seeing happy, energetic children brightened his mood considerably.
He took a book out of his bag, smiling warmly at the squealing he received and sitting down on a chair. The children all scrambled over to accompany him on the soft carpeting surrounding him. Ichigo chuckled when Hiyori pushed a little red haired boy out of her way. Normally, he would have scolded her, but the boy could easily hold his own against her. His name was Jinta and he was Urahara's nephew, fiery and somewhat of a trouble maker. He listened to Ichigo, though never any of the other teachers, which Ichigo found amusing.
As he read the story, he beamed down at the attentive faces and he knew he had made the right choice in his occupation.
XXX
When Ichigo arrived home in the afternoon, all he wanted to do was collapse in a pile of bones on his bed. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of Grimmjow already working, shirtless to boot.
Great.
He took out his keys, not bothering to approach the carpenter yet. Grimmjow, Ichigo noticed, was always very focused on his work anyway, so it was best if Ichigo let the man come to him for something first.
I'm done entertaining; he obviously doesn't have a problem coming to get me. I'm going to sleep.
Ichigo trekked up the stairs, stripping off his vest and white button down, taking off his reading glasses he hadn't realized he'd left on, and shucking off his slacks. The bed looked so comfortable, perfectly made and ready for his fatigued body. He pulled back the royal blue comforter, gazing longingly at the nice sheets calling his name.
Sleep claimed him almost as soon as he hit the fluffy pillows.
An hour later, Ichigo guessed, there was a soft knocking at his partially open bedroom door. He woke languidly, the veil of a deep sleep slowly lifting to allow him some form of coherency. He brought a hand to his eyes to rub tiredly and stood, not realizing he was only dressed in his underwear and a thin undershirt.
"I'm surprised you didn't just barge in," Ichigo muttered as he opened the door the rest of the way, taking in Grimmjow's still shirtless appearance.
Grimmjow didn't meet his eyes, but there was a distinct grin curling his lips. Ichigo was taken aback; he had never seen any expression on the man's face except for contemplation or surprise. "What's wrong?"
"The last time I came in you screamed like a woman and told me to get out. And you should put some clothes on, by the way."
Ichigo looked down.
With the reaction of a deer in the headlights, time seemed to ebb to a sudden stop. And then he blushed furiously, slammed the door in Grimmjow's face, and wanted to dive back under the covers in pure embarrassment. Instead, he rooted around in the closet for a pair of soft, cotton pants to throw on. God, he was such an idiot. His hideous blush was clear down his neck, burning his skin. Ichigo supposed he deserved it, though. What was he thinking!
Finally decent, Ichigo sighed and opened the door, feeling nervous and jumpy at seeing Grimmjow's leaning form in the doorway. His muscles flexed as he straightened, his gorgeous oceanic eyes pointedly looking at Ichigo's mouth.
Ichigo smiled, biting his lip. "What did you need, Grimmjow?"
"I was wondering if I could have something to drink," Grimmjow stated bluntly, turning around to walk down the stair case, Ichigo following closely behind.
"Oh, sure, sorry. I was just really tired; I hope you didn't need anything else. Are you hungry? You can stay for dinner if you'd like." Ichigo had the feeling Grimmjow wasn't really listening to him babble, but was surprised a second later when the man replied.
"What time do you eat dinner?" Grimmjow asked, walking ahead of Ichigo into the brightly decorated kitchen. He took a seat at the kitchen table, staring intently at the chairs. Ichigo frowned, taking a glass from the cabinet and filling it with ice cold water from the refrigerator.
"I should have it ready by five thirty. Byakuya works late, so he won't be here." Ichigo hoped the bitter lilt to his voice wasn't detectable. Grimmjow took the glass with a curt nod, taking a sip as he looked up at the ceiling.
"Alright, that would be fine." There was a silence in which Grimmjow looked like he was going to say something several times before he finally opened his mouth, eyes narrowed in thought. "Do you and Byakuya fuck?"
If Ichigo had been drinking something, it would have painted the pastel yellow walls. "What the hell is that supposed to mean!"
A low rumble of a chuckle escaped Grimmjow at Ichigo's flabbergasted outburst. "You both live together and I saw you two kissing the other day. I haven't seen two men live together in one house. Your roommate doesn't treat you very well."
Ichigo slammed his fist down on the counter top, a furious expression lighting up his entire face like intense lightning. "How is that any of your damned business?" Ichigo growled.
Grimmjow just shrugged. "It's not my business, it's an observation. You're a nice guy, Ichigo. I like your voice and you're always offering me things, even though I don't ask you for anything. He seems…unequal. For you. He doesn't hug you the way you hug him. His expression stayed the same when he looked at you. You had the biggest smile on your face before he kissed you. He looked like he was dead."
Ichigo wanted to be mad, to be throwing things, to blow up and tell the blue haired man off. To say that wasn't true. Instead, he mechanically sat in a chair opposite of Grimmjow, head held up by his shaking hands. Beyond anger, he was curious. He decided, for now, to ignore Grimmjow's analysis of Byakuya.
"You don't care that I have a relationship with a man? That I-I'm gay?"
A smile briefly crossed Grimmjow's features, curling his lips pleasantly. "I don't know how to answer that."
Ichigo sighed, taking a deep breath. What he was about to say wouldn't go over well, but he sucked it up and spilled it out. "Grimmjow, since you know something about me now, I want to ask you something. Why can't you look into my eyes when we talk?" Ichigo watched a hint of pink travel up the other man's strong neck, dusting across his cheeks. Grimmjow's hand clenched around the glass he was holding and Ichigo almost feared he'd break it.
"…Looking into people's eyes makes me uncomfortable. I feel threatened and get antsy and angry. I don't like what I see there," Grimmjow mumbled uneasily, abruptly standing up and pushing back his chair. The air was thick with tension as he practically bolted outside, leaving Ichigo shaken up at the table.
XXX
Kuchiki Byakuya stepped into the large office building with the same air of confidence he always had, but he couldn't help but feel like something was different around the large, spacious first floor. The décor left something to be desired in his opinion. The wall paper throughout the building had a soft, pink floral accent, the floors covered in an ugly green print. Paintings hung all over, some tasteful, while others were barely worthy of being called art. The first floor was open, leaving only small sitting areas and the large reception desk near the front, glass doors.
He pointedly eyed everyone bustling around to get things done, clutching his briefcase tighter to his person.
Before he could make a single step toward the elevator, a tall red haired man approached him, shit eating grin lighting up his face. Abarai. Byakuya frowned upon having his vision obstructed.
"Kuchiki-san, you hear about the new secretary Yamamoto-taicho demanded to be hired? She replaces Lisa today. Can you believe that? I doubt he really found anyone as good as Lisa, senile old man-"
"Enough," Byakuya growled, growing tired of Renji's constant chatter already.
Renji ignored his superior's warning. "Her name is Hisana and damn, is she a looker. She wears those new short skirts that all the young girls are wearing. Has everyone talking."
Byakuya was about to make a snappy reply before someone bumped into him from behind. His reflexes didn't kick in and he dropped his brief case, watching it break open and a flurry of white papers scattered in the air like a snow shower.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, sir! Oh my, let me got those," came a timid voice, to which the solid body that knocked into him belonged.
Turning around, Byakuya's calculating dark eyes immediately honed in on the petite woman frantically picking up his work.
She was beautiful, her long inky hair obscuring her eyes, but he could clearly see the smooth face behind her hair, gazing down to her small frame. He held out his hand, much to Renji's surprise and his own. "It's fine. What is your name?" he murmured, mesmerized when she stared up at him with shining eyes, all the documents safely retrieved.
"Thank you, sir. My name is Hisana."
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