(7.8.13) Byul & Hoshi note: Okay, so for those of you new to our writing – yes our – there are two people on this account. Byul is the big picture, over-all plot maker, and I (Hoshi) am the writer, proofreader, and detail-maker! We are (self proclaimed) infamous for our long first chapters! For the ones who already know all this, welcome back! And thank you for reading another one of out stories!

Disclaimer: WE. DO. NOT. OWN. BLEACH. Like, at all. Nope. Zip, zilch, zero, NADA. Unless this is in our dreams. In which case, screw owning Bleach, where is our mansion full of nerd merch? (Yeah, this is gonna be the disclaimer for the whole fic cause we don't like repeating ourselves and this is the only clever thing we could come up with.)

Chapter notes: If you don't like cussing get the fuck out what are you doing in a fic with Grimmjow as a character, seriously though. We decided to release the first chapter early in honor of Ichigo's birthday! Please do not expect another chapter until we are finished with our other fic (only two more chaps to go, no too long people). Like I said, this was only release for Ichigo's birthday.

Byul: Okay, I guess we should warn you guys about this fic.
Hoshi: Yeah, you see, we're writing this mostly for the lulz
Byul: There is plot though!
Hoshi: Yeah! And a lot of it is pretty serious
Byul: It's just...
Hoshi: We're warning you now, we WILL troll you in this story
Byul: Once the plot is wrapped up, we WILL break the fourth wall.
Hoshi: Maybe even before that if we can't resist.
Byul: The only thing we don't do is self inserts.
Hoshi: Yeah, cause that's not cool. *guilty of it*
Byul: Pshh, yeah who does that? *also guilty of it*
Hoshi: Seriously though, no self inserts. Ew.
Byul: But PREPARE YOURSELVES.
Hoshi: One last note. SCREW THEIR ACTUAL AGES.
Byul: WE DO WHAT WE WANT.

Accidentally in Love

Chapter One

So he said "What's the problem, Berry?"

Okay, so one thing you have to understand before anything is that accidents happen. Like, a lot. Why? Dunno. But they do. They can happen to anyone, in any situation. It can be something as minor as accidentally spilling a glass of juice, or something bigger, like accidentally saying the f-word around your parents when they assumed that the dirtiest word you knew was poop. You could accidentally discover the cure to cancer, or God forbid, you could accidentally kill someone.

Accidents happen all the time for no good reason. That's why they're called "accidents"...Okay, I have no idea what the root of the word "accident" is, so I actually don't know why, per say, but that isn't really the point.

The real question here is...is it possible to fall in love without meaning to? How is that? It isn't supposed to be possible. You're supposed to have some semblance of control over that, right? Either someone isn't your type, or you don't know them well enough, or you're just...not interested. That's how it is...right?

Ha!

That's cute.

"Congratulations!" a chorus of cheers erupted from all directions as the lights turned on and streamers were popped left and right.

"Wha...!" Ichigo yelped in surprise. He looked around at the familiar faces of his friends and family and felt his spirits rise.

"You guys! You know I don't like surprises!" he said, smiling anyways.

"Aw, come on Ichigo!" his long time friend Orihime giggled as she poked at the space between his constantly furrowed eyebrows.

"Yeah, we came all the way up here from Houston for your ass after all!" he heard a familiar voice call. He whipped towards the sound of their voice and broke into a full on grin.

"Rukia! Renji! It's been too long since I've seen your sorry mugs! Congrats to you too by the way," he said, walking over to find their hands linked. "When I heard the news through facebook I was so thrilled."

"Shut up! You were the first person I called anyways," Renji barked as he punched Ichigo in the shoulder.

"I guess that makes up for it. Fifty percent."

"Why you little-"

"Yeow!"

"Ack!"

Rukia twisted their skin a bit more just to make a point.

"Oi, no fighting with the person who's party it is!" she reprimanded Renji.

"Yes ma'am," he grumbled. After giving him a playful grin, she went off to talk to Orihime and Uryuu.

Ichigo just smirked at Renji and made a whipping motion, complete with sound effect.

"Shut up!" he said as he hooked an arm around Ichigo's shoulders and moved in for a noogie.

Ichigo just ducked out of it and tripped him. "You really wanna challenge the fastest guy on the Judo team, Abarai?"

"Former fastest on the team!" Renji growled.

A melancholy smile spread over Ichigo's face. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Ichigooooooo!" he heard a yell from behind him and instinctively ducked. Ichigo heard a string of curses and some muffled apologies, and looked up to see his idiot of a father sitting on top of Renji's butt and laughing up a storm.

"Nice dodge! As expected of my son! Ah, Masaki! What a glorious day to see our idiot son graduate from high school!" his father wept obnoxiously over the huge portrait he had of Ichigo's mother.

"Shut up old man!" Ichigo growled half-heartedly. "I graduated with honors!"

"Sometimes I forget you're actually smart, since you can't tell by looking at your idiotic face," a voice drawled from behind him.

"Gee, thanks, Uryuu," Ichigo mumbled sarcastically as he turned around to see the little snot pushing up his glasses with his usual better-than-you air.

"That's Professor Ishida to you, Kurosaki."

"You're barely a TA*, and you're only a few years older than me, jerk."

"Sorry, come again? My ears tend to filter out idiocy."

"Stop being mean to Ichigo!" Orihime pouted.

"But, Hime, it's fun," Ishida replied matter-of-factly.

Ichigo's brow twitched. He swore, if it wasn't for Orihime keeping her boyfriend in line, Ichigo would fight with him constantly. Not like that had stopped them when they were younger. They just didn't mix well. Oil and water, as the saying goes. For some reason, they actually hadn't killed each other yet. One of those mutual understanding sort of things, he guessed, but that was the limit to their attitude towards one another. How Orihime managed to tolerate the man, he'd never know. How'd they even end up together anyways? She was, like, a bubble, and he was a thorn bush...gah, whatever. He just prayed he didn't get assigned to any of his classes at the Uni.

'Ugh, I wouldn't be able to sit through one of his lectures,' he thought to himself.

Ichigo felt a firm grip on his shoulder and turned to see his dad, with a surprisingly serious expression on his face.

"Really. Congratulations, son. We're all proud of you. I just wish you mother could be here."

"Thanks, dad," Ichigo mumbled as he blushed a bit, more used to his dad's boisterous shenanigans than this serious attitude.

His dad gave him one last awkward pat on the back before going to talk to some older people that Ichigo didn't recognize.

"Ichi bro!"

"Come on, Ichi!" his little sisters called from the living room. His friends were all gathered around the TV and somehow Shinji and Hiyori had gotten into a Just Dance battle. Everyone was placing bets, no doubt on account of that scam king Urahara.

He smiled, enjoying the moment and went to go join in the cheering.

"Haaaah?" Ichigo yawned incredulously. His sleeping schedule was still funky from the party a couple of days ago, and waking up at 7 AM to his father pounding on his bedroom door wasn't helping any. "I need to what?"

"Get dressed. We're going to a birthday party!" his ridiculously hyper dad said with a big smile.

"Why not get Karin and Yuzu to go?" Ichigo grumbled. Why drag him along to a kid's party?

"Their summer lessons start today. They're already off to school!"

Shit, he'd forgotten about that. Damn kids, wanting to get ahead. Who does that? Enjoy your summer like everyone else, dammit.

He sighed, "When do I need to be ready?"

"Mmmmmm..." Isshin pondered, putting a hand to his chin. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmm..." he continued looking pointedly at his watch for several seconds. Ichigo was tempted to Judo flip him but fought the urge to do so in hopes that his dad would just give up and let him go back to sleep.

"Aha!"

"Aha...what?" Ichigo nearly growled, reconsidering that Judo flip.

"Ten minutes!" his dad chirped, giving him a thumbs up.

Leaving his father upside-down in a tangle of limb in the hallway, Ichigo slammed his door and got dressed in record time, just throwing on a purple t-shirt, some khaki jeans, and his old white converse. He sped to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, splashed his face in a horrible mockery of his normal morning wash, and ran his hands through his hair in a futile attempt to tame the orange spikes.

He emerged to find his dad still sitting on the floor outside his room, grumbling about disrespectful sons, and how Masaki would've known what to do. Ichigo glared down at him for a few seconds before giving him a small kick.

"Oi, weren't you the one rushing me? Let's get going."

"Right! Off we go!" Isshin exclaimed with a grandiose gesture as he pranced to the garage.

'An idiot. My father is an idiot,' Ichigo thought to himself, even though he suspected that his dad only acted this way to annoy the hell out of his children. Mostly Ichigo.

He sighed and followed his dad to the car.

"Who's birthday is it again?" Ichigo asked, before remembering that his dad had never told him anyways.

"He's the kid of some old friends of mine. They're the ones who helped me start up the clinic years back. One is the daughter of some Chinese businessman and the other is a German engineer for VW. We all went to college together. He gave me enough for the down-payment of the lot for the clinic. Never asked for anything in return. He was living up in California until about a month ago. He's just recently moved back down here with his family, and invited us over for his kid's birthday."

"Let me guess, you brought me along so you can have a nice chat with your pals while I babysit?" Ichigo said.

Isshin just chuckled and replied, "Something like that."

"You owe me big."

"How about I pay for one of your course books?"

"Done," Ichigo said in a flash. The less work-study he had to do, the better.

'He better not be some snotty brat,' Ichigo hoped.

As soon as they pulled up to the driveway, Ichigo saw a car he recognized. His eyes immediately lit up as he started looking around for the driver. She had to be here somewhere...

They parked and there was still no sign of her. Then, as soon as they were out of the car Ichigo felt a familiar warmth against his back, along with a pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders. A smile immediately spread across his face.

"Mom!"

"My baby! Oh, I missed you!" she said as she rained kisses down on his cheek.

"Agh, mom! Not in public!" he complained halfheartedly, not really minding much.

"Shush, you! I'm sorry I missed your graduation ceremony, Ichigo. Those idiots on the school board don't know the meaning of schedules."

"It's okay, mom," Ichigo said, giving her a smile of assurance. He knew being a school teacher was stressful, and her work days extended beyond the actual end of the school year.

"Masaki, my love! How I've missed thee!" Isshin exclaimed, suddenly pulling her away and twirling her around.

She laughed. "I missed you too, dear. Let's get inside before they start wondering if we've been kidnapped."

'Oh yeah, he's gonna be a snotty brat,' Ichigo grumbled internally as he looked around at the inside of the foyer.

The foyer.

Jesus, these people had a fucking foyer, need I say more?

It was luxurious by any standards. It wasn't so huge looking form the outside, but Ichigo guess that was because the driveway was a good twenty meters from the house. Seriously. These people were rich in ways he could only dream of. Complete with high ceilings, modern art paintings on the walls, and vases on pedestals.

He was afraid to even breathe in here, he'd probably break something.

Someone came and lead them to the living room – God, these people had servants too, what era is this – and they were greeted by a tall, muscular man who immediately went to tug Isshin into a bear hug.

"Isshin, you rascal! How have you been?" the man boomed.

"Not as good as you, Coen! You look fit as an ox!" Isshin laughed as he thumped his old friend on the shoulder.

'Does...does this guy have blue hair...?' Ichigo wondered. It was hard to tell, since the hair was really dark, but it seemed to have a distinct blue tinge to it. Was that even possible?

Then Ichigo looked to his left, where his mom was chatting away with...a young woman with all silver hair...yep. Yeah. Figures. What, was he in some weird Japanese anime or something?*

"Yin! It's been too long!" Masaki squeed as she grabbed the woman's hands and held them close to her.

"Masaki. Yes, it has been a long time, hasn't it? I've missed you," Yin said quietly.

"Aw, you haven't changed!"

Ichigo just sort of fidgeted in place for a while as they talked, feeling a bit out of place.

"This is my baby boy, Ichigo!" he heard his mom chirp as he felt a tug on his arm.

"Eh?"

"What a strapping young lad!" Coen assessed as he laughed and pulled Ichigo's dad off to the side. "Why is his face like that?" he whispered seriously.

"Honestly, we have no idea. That's just how his eyebrows are."

Coen let a bark of a laugh out. "Kids these days! My son is the same way!"

"Speaking of your son, where is he?" Ichigo said, perfectly overhearing their entire conversation, but choosing to ignore it.

"Hm, should be avoiding human contact like he usually does when we have guests. Should be in his room."

"Have fun!" his mom waved as he set off to find the kid who wasn't attending his own damn party.

Okay, he was officially fucking lost. Where the hell was this kid's room? Seriously, this house was like a small country. Who needed a house this big for three people? Foreigners, that's who. Great, now he was starting to think like an old man. He was too young to feel old.

He had been wandering around for nearly an hour when he stumbled upon a room fit for gods.

A pool room.

A very, beautiful, well stocked pool room.

Every wall was either lined with liquor, or classic art. Most of the art was on one wall. Three rows of paintings, all from different artists. At least that's what he assumed, based on their varying styles. He was never one to study classic art, but he picked out a few familiar pieces. Starry Night. Over the Rhone. Cafe Terrace. He had no clue why, bur he was always entranced whenever he saw Van Gogh's work. I was so unique and-

"Free flowing."

Ichigo jumped when he heard a deep voice from somewhere behind him. He spun around and assumed his Judo position only to have his eyes assaulted by a bright blue color.

Standing before him was a man, maybe a few years older than him, with his hands in his pocket and an expression of feral curiosity on his face that managed to send a strange shiver up Ichigo's spine in a matter of seconds. He was tall, and had a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. But the most noticeable thing of all was the guy's hair. It was medium length, slicked back, and a shocking electric blue. Ichigo just stared blankly at it for a few seconds. I mean, really, how hard was it to meet people with normal hair colors? He realized they were in the weird capital of Texas, but this was getting ridiculous.

It wasn't until the man spoke that he realized he was staring.

Whoops.

"So what's a pretty boy like you doing in my house?" the man asked with a wild grin.

'Excuse me? Did he just call me...a pretty boy?' Ichigo processed. Now, he had been called handsome before. Sometimes even beautiful (mostly by his mom). But no one had ever had the gall to call Kurosaki Ichigo pretty boy. Of all things!

"Who the hell ya callin' cute?" he challenged, his bad habit of picking a fight coming to the surface as his eyebrows knit even further together.

"Dunno. You tell me."

Okay, this guy was starting to bug him a bit.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," he replied, raising his eyebrow to coax a response out of the other man.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."

"..."

"..."

"Wait. You're the 'kid' I'm supposed to...babysit?" Ichigo said, loosing it at the end and starting to laugh uncontrollably.

"Oi, the fuck you laughing at?"

"Oh this is rich! A grown man, having a birthday party? What's on the schedule? Pin the tail on the donkey? Hide and seek?" Ichigo laughed.

"You better watch your mouth, you fucking dandelion!" Grimmjow retorted as he took a step forward.

"Hah? Who're you calling a dandelion? You're one to talk, you freaking blueberry!" Ichigo countered also taking a few steps forward.

Grimmjow sputtered indignantly, "Blueberry? Don't make me hurt you, you fucking cheese puff!"

"Cheese puff! You fucking...you...gaudy bluebonnet!"

"The fuck kinda insult is that! You wanna go, pretty boy?"

"Stop saying that!"

"Make me!"

"Fine!"

Grimmjow wasn't prepared for the sudden grapple hold that Ichigo had on him.

'Shit!' he thought, quickly wedging his elbow between them to loosen the grip, but it was too late. In second they were on the floor. Ichigo had Grimmjow pinned, knee on his chest, hands on his shoulders, and smug expression on his face.

Grimmjow's expression changed from shock, to anger, to determined. "Like hell I'm gonna lose to some damn brat!"

Grimmjow aimed at the crook of Ichigo's elbow, causing it to buckle and allowing him to move his shoulder to twist out from under him. Ichigo gasped as the world spun, and suddenly it was him on the floor, with Grimmjow pinning him down.

"Ha! Take that, ya cheese puff!" Grimmjow smirked, rather liking the new nickname.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that?" Ichigo said, eyes all a-sparkle with sudden interest. It was like he had completely forgotten the fact that they were just about to beat each other up.

"Come again?" Grimmjow deadpanned.

"That move! How'd you do it? Show me again!" he exclaimed like a litte kid asking to see a magic trick.

Grimmjow just stared at Ichigo, trying to figure him out. He was getting all excited about a little fighting trick? What was this guy, some kinda fighting nut? Huh...Well, would you look at that?

"Hey! You're like me!" Grimmjow barked out a laugh.

"Huh?" Ichigo muttered in confusion as Grimmjow got off of him and walked over to one of the shelves. He looked like he was searching for something in particular.

"Aha! There you are, baby!" he exclaimed as he pulled a bottle of Jack out from behind some other bottles. He started walking towards the hallway and noticed that Ichigo was still sitting on the floor, staring.

"The hell you doing? Get yer skinny ass up and follow me."

"Wait, dude, are you even twenty-one yet?" Ichigo asked impulsively.

Grimmjow looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "My pops is German. Seriously? Come on!" Then he continued on his way

Ichigo just did what he usually did when he was unsure or confused. He thought, 'Hell, why not?'

They walked for a bit in silence, made two turns, and then Grimmjow stopped in front of a door, opened it and went inside.

Ichigo just stood dumbly outside the doorway until Grimmjow popped his head back out. "Seriously, you got a problem with zoning out or something? Come on in."

Ichigo entered the room and was pleasantly surprised. Based on the rest of the house, he was expecting some grandiose bedchamber, with tapestries and king sized princess bed and a table for tea and crumpets. Though, even knowing Grimmjow for a few minutes he should have guess that wouldn't be the case. Instead, it was surprisingly homey.

First off, it wasn't as big as he expected. Still way bigger than his room at home, maybe even a bit bigger than the master bedroom in your average house, but it was still smaller than some of the other rooms he'd stumbled upon. On the wall to his right there were bookshelves, housing books and DVDs and Video games. To the left was what he assumed was the entertainment part of the room. There was a TV and three different gaming consoles. The bed was on the far wall. It looked like a queen sized bed, but he couldn't really tell form this angle. There was a writing desk next to it, stacked with engineering text books. The walls were stark white and covered in posters. But they weren't any ordinary posters, Ichigo noticed.

"Whoa, are you some sort of closet nerd?" Ichigo asked as he looked at all the different video game, TV series, and anime posters.

"You got a problem?" Grimmjow said with a hint of a growl in his voice.

"No, this is so cool," Ichigo replied honestly.

Grimmjow blinked, obviously not expecting that answer, and let out a loud laugh. "You're stupid, but I like you!" he told Ichigo.

He felt himself blush a bit, unused to Grimmjow's straight forwardness. "Thanks, I guess." He muttered as he walked a bit further into the room, examining the posters on the wall as Grimmjow poured himself a glass.

"Whoa! You like Supernatural? And Breaking Bad?"

"Fuck yes I do!"

Over the next hour or so, Grimmjow and Ichigo found that they had a ridiculous amount of things in common. They had similar tastes in TV shows for one. And their families both stuck them with weird ass names.

"Man, my mom is Japanese, but my dad's family hasn't been in Japan since the damn Shogunate or something. They decided to keep naming their kids with Japanese names just for the fun of it! And who the hell names a boy 'strawberry' anyways?"

"I know, righ'? Seriously, I was born in 'merica, they couldn't'a named me Jim or somethin'? Grimmjo' ain't even a German name fer cryin' out loud!" he complained boisterously.

"Yo, I think you've had enough of that," Ichigo said, reaching for the glass and bottle in Grimmjow's possession.

"No," he said with a slight pout. Oh yeah, if a guy like Grimmjow was pouting, that was a sign to stop.

"Come on, man, it's for your own good," Ichigo said, trying to take it from him.

"Dun wanna!" Grimmjow growled a bit, but it came out more raspy than anything.

With a final tug, Ichigo managed to take the drink from him, but some of it from the glass spilled on Grimmjow's shirt.

"Ack! Look what ya've done!" Grimmjow fussed, muttering something about his beautiful coton being soiled.

"It's your own fault. I'll go get you some water. Maybe it'll sober you up a little."

"I ain't drunk," Grimmjow countered, but made no move to stop Ichigo.

When Ichigo came back with a bottle of water from the pool room mini fridge, he was greeted by a very muscular and very shirtless Grimmjow.

"Dude, I didn't ask for a strip show," Ichigo said in uncharacteristic embarrassment.

"And I ain't giving you one. 'M changing the shirt you soiled," he replied, already sounding a bit clearer. How high was this guy's tolerance?

"Here. Drink up," Ichigo said, tossing the water bottle towards Grimmjow, who managed to catch it (even if he fumbled with it for a bit, which he totally denied later).

As he turned to do so, Ichigo noticed a black six over his hip, partially hidden by the hemline of his jeans.

"Nice ink," Ichigo commented, "Why a six? Your birthday?"

Grimmjow looked down at the mark and gave a small smile. Or, as close to one as he could make. It looked like more of a smirk to Ichigo. Still, it was softer than the expressions he'd seen so far.

"Yes and no."

And that's when Ichigo heard it. That little melancholy tone to his voice that let him know this probably wasn't something he should poke his nose into.

"Sorry, you don't need to tell me if you don't want to."

"Tch. I'm not some emotional school girl. It's just...China isn't the best place for women, alright?* My ma...she kind of got the bad end of the stick. She only has one functioning ovary, and there was something wrong with it." He paused. "She had five miscarriages before me. My pops didn't want to continue after the second...but my ma's strong!" he said with a wry grin. "She wanted a family. And then I cam along on the sixth try. But I'm not her only child. This," he continued, tapping on the tattoo, "Serves as a reminder."

"I never would have pegged you for the sweet type, but that's really nice," Ichigo blurted without thinking.

"Ah, shut up!" Grimmjow yelled halfheartedly as he threw his dirty t-shirt at Ichigo's face.

"Oi!"

"My turn for a question. Do the drapes match the carpet?"

Ichigo blinked and said, "Shouldn't it be me asking you that?"

"I'll answer if you do."

"Fair enough. Yeah. This is my natural hair color. Dunno how I ended up with it though. Seriosly, my family's genetics are all out of whack."

"Wow, a real live ginger in my room! How about that?" Grimmjow started. "Hey, wait a second, somethin's not right..."

Before Ichigo could react, Grimmjow was suddenly right in his face, scrunching his eyebrows.

"There they are!"

"W-what?"

"Yer freckles! They're real light, but they're there," Grimmjow said, giving that almost predatory grin of his.

Ichigo felt a bit dizzy. He wasn't used to people being so close. After a few more seconds of this socially awkward torture he shoved Grimmjow's face away.

"D-dude, I don't want to kiss you," he stuttered nervously.

"Sure ya don't, strawberry," Grimmjow said in what he hoped was a joking manner.

"Wasn't I supposed to be cheese puff?" Ichigo grumbled, not really wanting either one.

"I like this one better. Much more amusing."

"Do I get to call you blueberry then?"

"Hell no!"

"Dude, you're just begging for it by dying your hair like that."

"It's natural."

"...Fuck you. No way."

"Fucking hell, do I have to pull down my pants to prove it to you people that it's fucking natural?" Grimmjow growled, obviously having gone through similar conversations before.

"Well, how? There must be an explanation."

Grimmjow smirked at him. "Finally, someone with some sense! You're one o' the first to believe me so quickly. Alright, punk, listen close. You know how my ma's hair is white? That's due to the way her body processes Vitamin B. It has to do with some stray enzyme fucking shit up. The Vitamin B wasn't processed correctly and with no proper vitamin B a lot of shit happens. One of those effect being losing any pigmentation in the hair. So, it turned her hair white at an early age. And you may have noticed, but my dad's hair is dark blue. Also due to a stray enzyme wreaking havoc, but it messes with the other enzymes. Fucks with these things called cobalamins. And what do you suppose is in that? Cobalt. Starting to catch on? Turns out my family on my pop's side is the only one in the world with this condition. They still haven't really figured it out. I, lucky bastard that I am, got the whacky genes from both of my folks. My hair would already be white if I didn't take Vitamin B supplements all the damn time. That's the story of how I got this kick ass, sexy hair."*

"I don't know whether to applaud you for sounding intelligent or hit you for being an egomaniac."

"The fuck you say punk? Don't make me throw one o' them text books at you. They hurt like a bitch."

"Oh yeah, I was meaning to ask about that. Are you going to UT?*"

"Yeah, the folks are making me get a degree in something. I can't be bothered to decide though."

"That's no good."

"Oh yeah? And what do you want to be, strawberry?"

"No idea-"

"Fucking hypocrite!"

"-but I wanna work with kids."

"With snot nosed little brats? Why the hell would ya do that?"

"My mom works at an elementary school. Whenever I visited her at work, I always got this warm feeling just watching how she interacted with them. So she kinda inspired me to want to do the same."

"Aw, wittle strawberry's a momma's boy!" Grimmjow teased, pinching Ichigo's cheek.

"Get off o' me, you old man. This is pedophilia."

"The fuck you callin' old. I'm barely twenty one. And you sure as hell ain't a minor," Grimmjow said giving Ichigo a playful once over.

"I'm seventeen."

"...Shut the fuck up, you're not! No. You're bullshitting me. No way was I fucking pinned by a seventeen year old. No fucking way."

"Ha! Tough luck, 'cause you were," Ichigo laughed as he stuck his tongue out at Grimmjow.

"Oi, I fucking won though," Grimmjow remembered with a cat like grin.

"Hey, that's right, you never taught me that move! Show me show me!" Ichigo said enthusiastically. If there was one thing he really enjoyed, it was learning how to fight. It wasn't really the fight he was looking for, although he always got a pleasant rush when he fought. No, it was just. He like having that knowledge. That power. The ability to fight for himself, and for others. And anything that enabled him to do a better job of that was on his list of things to learn. This past year it was Judo. The year before that it was Kendo. The year before that was Archery (the only thing that he just couldn't beat that damned Uryuu at). Before that, it was boxing. But Grimmjow's fighting was instinctual. It was on the spot. He wanted to learn how to fight like that.

"Teach you? Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because I'll teach you some Judo moves in exchange."

He saw a spark in Grimmjow's eyes and knew he had him hooked.

Before they could agree on anything though, a loud and obnoxious voice rang through the halls.

"Ichigoooo! Hey, let's go!"

"Ugh, there's my idiot father. Guess I gotta go."

Ichigo turned to Grimmjow and wasn't really sure what to do or say. It felt weird saying "nice to meet you" at this point. It was strange, but it felt like they'd known each other for a long time already. He didn't know him well enough for a casual "later, bro". Plus using "bro" for Grimmjow just felt...strange. He didn't know how to categorize Grimmjow at all, actually.

Unable to decide what to say in the awkward silence, Ichigo simply turned to leave.

Suddenly, he felt arms wrap around him from behind, one wrapping around his waist as the other went for his pants.

"W-w-w-w-w-what the hell are you doing?" Ichigo freaked out as he twisted out of Grimmjow's embrace. He was about to throw a million accusations at the man, until he saw what he was holding.

"Oi, that's my cellphone!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Grimmjow smirked as he finished typing something into Ichigo's phone. "Nice reaction there, but I'm not into jail bait."

"The fuck?" he growled, trying to deny the blush creeping onto his face. "Dude, there's a line for these sorta things. You freaked me out."

"Really? Because you look even more like a strawberry now!"

Ichigo just sputtered in incoherent indignation.

"What's the problem, strawberry? Cat got your tongue?" Grimmjow teased as he tossed Ichigo's phone back to him.

He just grumbled something about perverted old men as he checked to see what Grimmjow had done to his phone.

"Ichigo! There you are, my son!" Isshin exclaimed, bursting into the room without knocking, earning a glare from Grimmjow. "Let's get going, your mother's soap opera is almost on, and we don't want her angry!" Both of them shuddered at the thought.

When he was almost out the door, Grimmjow called, "Oi, call me up about that Judo thing later. I'm free most of the time."

Realizing what Grimmjow must have done, Ichigo checked his contacts.

"Huh? Why only 'Grimm'? I'm pretty sure even your weird ass name would fit in here," Ichigo asked.

"It's what my friends call me," Grimmjow smirked, as if stating the obvious.

Ichigo stared at Grimmjow, trying to figure him out...for some reason. Then he just nodded a farewell, and he was gone.

"Friend, huh?" Ichigo muttered to himself in the backseat.

It was weird. That category still didn't feel quite right.

But it was the closest he was getting for now, so he let it be.

Grimmjow lay down on his bed once Ichigo was gone. He took out his phone and scrolled to the contact labeled "Strawberry".

"Sweet," he whispered to himself. "This is gonna be interesting."

[Chapter End.]

T.B.C.

Hoshi: Hahahahaha! Ichigo's mom? Dead? Sacrilege!
Byul: Do you even know what sacrilege means?
Hoshi: No, but it's a spunky word. And the situation called for a spunky word.
Byul: Seriously though, why do fanfiction writers keep her dead?
Hoshi: Character dynamics? Back story? Plot?
Byul: ...
Hoshi: ...
Byul: PFFFFT!
Hoshi: NAAAAH!
Byul: Always room for some beautiful mama-Kurosaki in our fics.
Hoshi: Always!

Welp, happy (belated *coughcough*) birthday, Ichigo!

* TA – Teacher's Assistant. Some professors have them. They pick from third and fourth year students of theirs.

* FOURTH WALL? WHAT FOURTH WALL?

* In China, there's a lot of pollution. Everywhere. This includes water sources, and it effects everyone really. There was actually a huge scandal over it causing a massive increase in infertility rates until the Government over there hushed it up as usual. (What? We can't be smart?)

* HA SCIENCE BITCH. (Not exactly possible, but entirely plausible kinda...)

* UT – University of Texas in Austin (Austin is pretty much the only cool place in Texas tbh)

Reviews are greatly appreciated. Critiques are highly anticipated. Flames will be fed to Natsu- Wait, what the hell are you doing in this fic wait your damn turn, Natsu.

Natsu: Aw.