Grimmjow shifted his feet, his black leather boots scraping against the pavement, as he leaned against the cold concrete wall taking a long drag of his cigarette. The sun shone brightly overhead, he could feel the warmth seeping in through his thick dark jacket offsetting the cool breeze of early spring. It was the kind of day he would usually want to spend stretching his legs and shaking off the last chill of winter, but today he felt strangely anxious. He gave a long sigh, smoke billowing from his mouth and nose into one steady white stream, as he stared into the window of a shop opposite of him.