After Grimmjow’s return, Urahara struck some kind of deal with him—details you weren’t privy to, nor did you really care to know. What mattered was the outcome: Grimmjow staying in the human world for a while and, unfortunately, you being the unlucky person tasked with housing the grumpy former Sixth Espada.

It wasn’t exactly an ideal arrangement. Grimmjow’s temper and general lack of respect for, well, anything made your home life far more chaotic than you were used to. But today? Today managed to outdo the rest.

After a long day at school, you opened your door expecting the usual quiet chaos, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greeted you. Your couch—your beloved couch—was utterly destroyed. Torn fabric, stuffing strewn across the floor, and in the middle of it all, Grimmjow sat casually on the ground, tossing around what remained of the stuffing like a bored cat playing with a ball of yarn.

He glanced up at you, his scowl deepening when he noticed the look on your face. “What?” he grunted, sounding entirely unapologetic. “I was bored.”

Your jaw dropped, a mixture of disbelief and frustration bubbling up inside you. “Bored? So you decided to murder my couch?”

Grimmjow shrugged, completely unfazed by your growing irritation. “It was ugly anyway.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “It wasn’t ugly! It was perfectly fine before you ripped it apart!”

He tossed a chunk of stuffing into the air, catching it lazily. “Tch. Don’t get so worked up. It’s just a couch.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling slowly as you tried to calm down. “Grimmjow,” you said through gritted teeth, “you owe me a new couch.”

“Sure, whatever,” he muttered, leaning back against the now-useless frame of your furniture. “Not like I’ve got anything else to do.”

It was going to be a long few weeks.