Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

In the Aftermath of Winter	By : Nakkinomiko Category: Bleach > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 5655 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or its characters, and make no money from this fic

Chapter List
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- 4
A/N: Finally, after 10 false starts and much weeping and gnashing of teeth, here’s chapter 3. I’m not entirely happy with it, but it got the characters to where I needed them to be, so I’m not going to get too upset. Thank you to mari_mari, Arius_the_King, and Kristin for your reviews! I really appreciate the feedback! Secondly, I feel that I should add an OOC warning at this point. I try to keep everyone in character as much as possible, but sometimes they do their own thing, especially when I stick them in odd situations. @_@;;
Chapter 3: Reunions
Kisuke is enjoying an afternoon cup of tea when his doorway is darkened by a shadow. He tilts his green-striped hat back slightly and peers from beneath the brim. Standing just inside the shop entrance is his old friend Isshin, and Kisuke’s brows arch when he realizes his friend is not alone. If the powder-blue hair color was not an indicator that his friend’s companion is not human, his barely contained reiatsu and the mask fragment along his jawline is.
“Isshin, old friend, you’ve found yourself an Espada.” Kisuke snaps his ever-present fan open and hides his smirk. “Shall I open up the senkaimon so you can travel to Soul Society and turn him in?”
“I would prefer you not,” Isshin says without his usual humor.
Kisuke frowns at Isshin’s unusually serious behavior. He snaps his fan shut and motions for them to join him at the table. “Then you had best come in before someone sees him. Tessai! Bring more tea, please!”
“Thank you,” Isshin murmurs.
His visitors settle themselves on empty cushions, and Tessai appears with the tea. If the man is surprised to see an Espada sitting at his boss’s table, he doesn’t mention it. He quickly pours the tea and then disappears back into the shop’s depths. Urahara does not miss the way his Espada guest all but glares daggers at the tea, and Grimmjow’s complexion has noticeably paled.
“Grimmjow?” Isshin reaches out and gently touches the Espada’s shoulder. “What is it?”
“ He used to drink the same stuff,” Grimmjow says.
“He?”
Grimmjow’s nod is sharp. “Aizen. He used to make us drink tea at his stupid meetings.” The Espada looks positively ill with the memory.
Urahara bows his head slightly in Grimmjow’s direction. “My apologies, Grimmjow-san. Tessai!”
The man appears almost immediately. “Boss?”
“I think our Espada guest would be better served with a glass of your lemonade,” Urahara says.
Tessai is quick to bring the lemonade, and Grimmjow seems to relax then. Urahara, seeing that his guest is now comfortable, turns his attention back to Isshin.
“So, old friend, how may I help you?”
“Grimmjow needs a gigai.”
Urahara’s brows twitch upward again. “Isshin, what are you up to?”
Isshin smirks. “I’m just protecting another misfit from Soul Society’s stupid rules. You know how that is, Kisuke.”
Urahara laughs behind his fan. “Oh, indeed I do! But, if I remember correctly, it was this particular misfit that nearly killed Rukia and did his damnedest to kill Ichigo.”
“One and the same, but you know how it is with Ichigo,” Isshin says. He gives Urahara a wry smile. “The boy has a way of making friends with enemies.”
“Or at least earning their respect,” Urahara agrees. He turns his attention to Grimmjow. The Espada is staring into his lemonade, and is radiating discomfort. It doesn’t surprise Urahara. He suspects that Grimmjow is learning how to deal with having human emotions, and Isshin’s kindness has no doubt overwhelmed him.
“Will you do it?” Isshin prods.
Urahara thinks about it for a moment, and then sighs and nods. “I will.”

Grimmjow isn’t quite sure what to think of the gigai. It feels strange, and he can’t access his reiatsu the way he normally would. The strangest thing, though, is the fact that when he looks in the mirror he looks human. He passes a hand over his stomach, fascinated by the absence of his Hollow hole. His eyes move to his jawline and it is strange to see his reflection without the mask fragment. Everything else, though, is exactly the same, and Grimmjow has to hand it to Urahara. The guy really is a genius.
He’s also scary. When Isshin first brought Grimmjow to Urahara’s shop and introduced him to the former Twelfth Division captain, Urahara had for just a moment allowed his reiatsu to flare. Grimmjow had gone rigid with the effort to not run, because Urahara’s reiatsu was immense and almost as suffocating as Aizen’s had been. Urahara’s smile, though, was friendly, and unlike Aizen, the expression reached Urahara’s eyes. That one distinction had Grimmjow relaxing and deciding that maybe this Shinigami was okay—not that he would ever admit it out loud.
“How does it feel?” Urahara asks.
“Weird,” Grimmjow says. He glances at his reflection again, still fascinated with his flawless abdomen. He shakes his head and pulls a black t-shirt on. “I can’t use my reiatsu in this thing, can I?”
“Not fully, but then that’s the whole point, isn’t it? As long as you’re in that gigai the Shinigami won’t be able to find you.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Grimmjow looks himself over in the mirror again. He runs his hand over his fragment-free jaw, not quite able to get used to the mask’s absence. “It’s so weird,” he murmurs.
“I’m confident that you will get used to it,” Urahara says. He hands Grimmjow a black leather duster. “You’ll want to wear that, my friend, as the gigai is susceptible to the elements.”
Grimmjow nods and slips the long coat on. He looks in the mirror and likes the fact that he is now dressed from head to toe in garments that look nothing like his Espada uniform. It is another welcome step in the process of leaving Hueco Mundo behind.
“An excellent job, as always, my friend,” Isshin says. He claps a hand on Urahara’s shoulder. “Well done.”
Urahara waves off the praise. “Always happy to help a friend,” he says, and he meets Grimmjow’s gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “Old and new.”
Grimmjow nearly squirms under the pressure of the unfamiliar emotions Urahara’s words bring. He is more than aware that helping him may put Urahara and Isshin in danger, and he can’t understand why they would do that, only that they have done it. Grimmjow is itching to say something, to put into words just how much it means to him that they have decided to help him and trust him. He scowls in frustration as the words continue to elude him.
“Grimmjow?” Urahara steps closer and lays a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”
Grimmjow struggles for words again, and in the end settles on “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Understanding floods Urahara’s expression and the hand on his shoulder gives a gentle squeeze. “You just did.”

Ichigo paces the kitchen floor like a cat in a cage. It has been nearly four hours since Isshin disappeared with Grimmjow, and he’s starting to worry.
“Why aren’t they back yet?” Karin mutters. She’s helping Yuzu with the dinner dishes, but her gaze keeps wandering out the kitchen window. “You don’t think that Dad turned him in, do you?”
“Gods, I hope not,” Ichigo says. “But I can’t think what would be taking them so long!” He resists the urge to pull on his hair in frustration. He fervently hopes that his dad hasn’t turned Grimmjow over to the Shinigami. Grimmjow fought for Aizen during the war, yes, but Ichigo suspects Grimmjow did it out of fear rather than loyalty. He doesn’t deserve to be persecuted for Aizen’s insanity. He’s a good person at heart. I know he is!
“I don’t think he’ll turn him in, though,” Karin says, her tone hopeful. “As stupid as Dad likes to act, we both know he’s not. He left Soul Society for a reason, and I think it was more than him just falling in love with mom.”
“Yeah, even an idiot can see their system is broken.” Ichigo truly believes Soul Society could be a good place if they would just overhaul their outdated rules. History has proven that their current system doesn’t work—the Quincy, the Bounts, and even Aizen are all proof that there are issues in Soul Society that need to be addressed and fixed. Ichigo had planned to rally for those changes. He’s sure that others in Soul Society would have supported him, but the loss of his powers changed everything. His ability to see his Shinigami friends had slowly faded with his powers, and he hasn’t seen any of them since.
Not even Urahara, although Ichigo will admit he is partially responsible for that. He has thought about visiting the shopkeeper more than once, but something always seems to hold him back. It’s not that he believes Urahara would turn him away, but Ichigo has finally accepted that he might never see his Soul Society friends again, and seeing Urahara would only make it that much harder to let that part of his life go. But at the same time, Ichigo really misses Urahara, and even though he no longer has powers, Ichigo is fairly sure Urahara’s wisdom extends beyond warfare, that there is more to learn from the former captain.
Maybe it’s time I go see him, Ichigo thinks.
The sound of the front door opening jars Ichigo from his thoughts, and a moment later he hears Isshin’s too loud voice in the hallway.
“Ah, my darling children, Daddy has returned, and I have brought guests!”
“One of them had better be Grimmjow, old man!” Ichigo growls. Isshin appears in the kitchen doorway, and Ichigo pins him with a fierce glare. “Where the hell have you been?”
“With an old friend,” Isshin says, suddenly serious. Isshin steps aside without another word.
Ichigo’s world comes to a grinding halt when Urahara steps into the kitchen. The older man gives him a nervous smile from beneath the brim of his ever-present striped hat. Urahara lifts a hand and gives Ichigo a slight wave.
“Hello, Kurosaki-kun.”
For a moment, Ichigo can say nothing. He is rendered speechless by the weight of mixed emotions. Part of him wants to be angry that the man waited two whole years to visit him. Another part of him wants to just hug the man, he is that happy to see him.
“I understand if you are angry with me,” Urahara says. His voice is almost inaudible. “I should have visited before now.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not all your fault,” Ichigo finally says. “I know where you live. I could have visited, too.”
“You really are too forgiving,” Urahara murmurs. “Thank you, Ichigo.”
“Che, whatever,” Ichigo mutters. “I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow afternoon.”
Urahara’s smile reaches his eyes. “I look forward to catching up with you. In the meantime, I think you’ll have your hands full acclimating Grimmjow to life in the Living World.”
“I can take care of myself, Shinigami.”
Ichigo cannot help but grin when Grimmjow steps into the room. It’s immediately obvious that Urahara has given the Espada a gigai as Grimmjow’s mask fragment is missing. He’s dressed head to toe in black and returns Ichigo’s grin with one of his own.
“You sure you can handle living as a human?” Ichigo asks.
Grimmjow snorts and points at Isshin. “If this crazy bastard can do it, I can.”
Ichigo laughs, and he can hear Karin and Yuzu giggling behind him. Ichigo steps forward and offers his hand to Grimmjow, and the Espada is quick to place his hand in Ichigo’s and clasp it tight.
“Welcome home, Grimmjow.”
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In the Aftermath of Winter