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Bleach fic: Untitled
Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: Er...Grimmjow + Byakuya, not really a pairing

Rating: G - amazingly

Summary: I'm convinced Grimmjow was a feline of some sort that got picked up by chibi!Byakuya, except one day Byakuya had to abandon his pet for more serious things and then Grimmjow died and became a hollow. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Disclaimer: Belongs to Kubo Tite.

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“You!”

Byakuya stared at the hollow – no, arrancar – that pointed at him, eyes blazing and his sword dangerously close to Rukia’s neck. He had no interest in what the monster had to say, intent as he was on removing his sister from danger, but then the arrancar did something unexpected.

He, for the lack of a better word, flailed.

“You!” he exclaimed again, dropping Rukia’s unconscious body and was now pointing at Byakuya with one hand while the other flapped about. “You’re the one!”

Byakuya sighed a small breath of relief at the release of his sister, relaxing now that the arrancar’s attention was focused on him instead. However, relief was quickly dissolving into confused annoyance as the arrancar continued to blather on.

“You’ve…you’re so much smaller now!” the arrancar was still flailing. “And you’re, you’re a shinigami. Oh if only I’d known! I would never have let you get away with it!”

Finally losing patience, Byakuya demanded in a word, “What?”

“Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten!” the arrancar shrieked in a decidedly non-hollow way.

Byakuya stared back, genuinely confused as the arrancar’s behavior grew ever more erratic.

“You and your naming sense!” finally came the answer, albeit in a decibel higher than human hearing.

However, the inhuman scream had finally jogged a wayward memory lose, and Byakuya was quickly reminded of an odd looking cat he had once happened upon when younger, before a desperate aversion to felines had been instilled in him. The odd looking animal was obviously starved, half dead across the road in Rukongai, and Byakuya had reacted out of instinct, pouring his bottle of milk out for the animal.

Three days later, he’d met the animal again, this time within the walls of Seireitei, curled under an azalea bush. Byakuya hadn’t been thinking when he’d bent down to greet the animal, calling the first name that came to mind.

“Tama.”

“I see your naming sense is still as horrible as ever,” the arrancar – Tama – retorted, this time at a reasonable decibel.

Ignoring the jibe, Byakuya approached Tama, curious how the small, helpless animal turned into a hollow, and why on earth did he still recognize him?

Tama, however, took a step back, hands held out in a defensive cross against his chest, head shaking violently as he demanded, “Back, back! Why are you looking at me like that?”

Byakuya blinked, realizing belatedly that his hand was reaching out, as it had when he was younger, trying to pet the shaggy head. Another quick look and he could see that Tama was hunched, as he had when he was smaller, trying to look dangerous. Although, admittedly, he was looking much more dangerous now with the addition of a sealed sword and general increase in size.

Yet, he was still Tama, albeit more monstrous and working for Aizen, but still the animal that Byakuya had saved from hunger on an impulse and in a way, Byakuya knew, it made Tama his responsibility.

So, edging closer and watching with fascination as the arrancar scurried back, arms still crossed in a warding sign, Byakuya retrieved his now abandoned sister. Sister firmly ensconced, Byakuya tried again.

“Tama…”

His words were quickly cut off as the arrancar interrupted, “At least call me by my name!”

“Your name…”

“Grimmjow Jaeggerjacquez.”

Byakuya paused to give the name some thought, tested it on his tongue a moment before deciding, “Tama is better.”

“Because you have horrible naming sense!” Grimmjow howled back, backing up still further, glaring at him now in a familiar reprimanding scowl that Byakuya was beginning to remember receiving when he’d forgotten feed Tama – Grimmjow.

“Very well, Grimmjow,” Byakuya agreed, and was satisfied when the arrancar didn’t interrupt. But the defensive posture hadn’t eased and Grimmjow’s arms were still crossed. Thinking of the tricks he’d used to tempt Tama – Grimmjow out from the azalea bush, Byakuya added, “There’s warm milk at home.”

“That…you…argh!”

Byakuya watched in fascination as Grimmjow, sixth espada and one of the strongest warriors of Aizen’s army, was reduced to incoherent gargling.

Taking advantage of Grimmjow’s frustrated distraction, Byakuya used shunpo making his way to Grimmjow’s side and ruffled the fluffy head of hair, pleased to find it as soft as he remembered.

The ruffling brought Grimmjow out of his frothing and he stared at Byakuya with a mix of surprise, befuddlement and a healthy dose of indignation. Then, very slowly, he bit out, “Don’t. Pet. Me.”

Byakuya hummed in agreement, stopping his ruffling but not removing his hand from the Grimmjow’s hair. Whatever it was that had happened to Grimmjow had made him far pricklier than Byakuya remembered.

“You liked being petted,” Byakuya mused, only to receive a scathing look for his efforts.

“I am not ten anymore,” Grimmjow growled back, but made no further attempt to move himself away, which Byakuya considered a victory of sorts.

“Nor I,” Byakuya agreed, his finger twitching the strands. Then, pushing his luck as he always had when younger and less disciplined, Byakuya gave the hair one more testing stroke, eyes alert for signs of danger. However, instead of more angry hissing, Grimmjow merely looked pained and obliging.

Satisfied with his progress, Byakuya removed his hand, just in time for Grimmjow to step back, putting their original distance between them. Ignoring Grimmjow’s antics, Byakuya pulled out Senbonzakura to open the Senkaimon.

As the doors slipped open, Byakuya turned his attention back to Grimmjow, who was looking as confused as Byakuya was feeling. Mentally shrugging off the unsettling emotions, Byakuya focused on getting his sister back to Soul Society and to the Fourth Division as quickly as possible.

It didn’t stop him from calling to Grimmjow as he stepped through the gate, “We’re having smoked yellowtail for dinner.”

The gate doors closed just in time to block out a hastily aimed cero.