Adult-FanFiction.org : Bleach

Shades of Grey	By : SilverKytten Category: Bleach > Yaoi - Male/Male > Urahara/Ichigo Views: 3536 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo; I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement. No profit/money is gained from any of my writing.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. All characters associated with the series are the property of Tite Kubo, I am simply borrowing them for my own amusement.
Chapter 7 – Interlude
Urahara had always prided himself on the strength of his connections. Hardly a scandal passed, even during the height of his exile, to which he did not possess the most intimate detail, often times long before the elite of Seireitei. After his return to relative favor, this fountain of information had increased tenfold, and so he was under no illusions as to the state Soul Society was in.
They were still reeling, unbalanced by their losses, torn by confusion and the betrayals they had suffered. They were unpredictable and, at least to Urahara's mind, that made them dangerous. Someone like Ichigo terrified them, because of his raw power, and because of his unfathomable potential. He was an unknown factor, a turbulent, dark uncertainty gnawing at their already suspicious minds.
There was a restlessness growing within their ranks, born of unresolved fears and unfocused anger, straining at the already frayed ties of their once structured existence. Urahara knew that should they fall into this madness they would be nearly impossible to reach, lost to deafening scream or their own demons. More importantly, Hitsugaya seemed to know it, which was a small measure of hope in this otherwise turbulent mess. All he needed to know had been communicated in their glance, in the subtle exchange that had passed between them the day before. Hitsugaya had no intention of placing Ichigo in danger, and not even the lapse with Isshin could change that. He was simply going through the motions, putting on a show for the terrified masses. There had never been a question as to what would be reported.
Unfortunately, there was still a fair chance that it wouldn't be enough; that they would call for a formal hearing to evaluate the threat Ichigo posed. If this occurred, it would not be in the form of a polite request, not with their paranoia running rampant; they would come for him at the end of a sword. They would drag him down and attempt to subdue him, locking him away while they considered his fate like some sort of animal. Urahara growled low in his throat, daring them to try, even as a small thrill of worry trailed up his spine.
"How bad is it?" A quiet voice tore through his reflections and Urahara glanced over as Kon stepped though the recently created hole in his shop.
"It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," he assured him, sliding further along the wall so the mod soul could join him.
"I saw that look you gave Toushirou," Kon pressed, leaning a shoulder against the building and crossing his arms.
"Did you now?" Urahara didn't bother to deny it.
Kon shifted; irritated or uncomfortable, it was hard to tell. "How am I supposed to protect Karin and Yuzu if I don't know what I'm looking for?"
"I think you have a good idea what you'd be looking for." Pale brows drew together as he met the steady, challenging gaze.
"Do you really think they'll come?" Kon asked, a nearly inaudible tremor belying his calm tone.
"It doesn't matter; I would never let him be taken." Urahara turned away, studying the grounds where he had so recently engaged Ichigo in battle. "Just make sure that the children are far away should they prove foolish enough to try."
Kon nodded absently, it was an unnecessary reminder but he took no offense. "Do you really think you could stop them?"
Grey-green eyes flicked back to Kon and the mod soul felt the slow burn or reiatsu crawl over his skin. It was easy to forget, what with the unique mannerisms and lackadaisical attitude, that Urahara could be exceptionally dangerous when properly motivated. He was, after all, the only person other than Ichigo to have mastered the use of his bankai in only three days time. He was also one of the few who had stood on equal ground with an Espada, armed with little more than a Shikai release and a razor-edged smile.
Kon knew all of this, had seen the proof in the devastation laid out before Benihime's graceful arc, which was what made the brief flicker of uncertainty behind the steely resolve all the more frightening. Urahara would place himself between Ichigo and the Shinigami without thought or hesitation, of that Kon was sure. Beyond that, however, nothing was certain and despite the faith he had in the older man's ability, Kon couldn't help the nagging worry that started to fester.
He cleared his throat, running a hand though his hair as he cast about for a new topic, grasping at the first thing that came to mind. "Where's Ichigo?"
"He's sleeping," Urahara sighed, feeling suddenly tired himself. "Yesterday was…difficult."
Kon huffed in agreement. "He should take his body and spend some time with his sisters. It might help to take the edge off his mood."
His tone was easy, unconcerned, but from the way he could feel the gaze boring into the side of his head he knew something must have slipped.
"My offer to make you a gigai still stands, you know?" Urahara said softly, studying the familiar profile.
"It's better this way." Kon shrugged noncommittally. "Ichigo need someone to keep an eye on his body, and it's easier to protect the girls when I look like this. It's win-win."
This was a familiar discussion; one which they had engaged in a number of times since the end of the war. Kon, much to the surprise of almost all who knew him, had adamantly refused to be granted his freedom after the Arrancar ceased to be a threat. He'd shrugged it off, saying he'd grown accustomed to the arrangement, but Urahara knew better. He had seen panic and desperation dancing behind that perfect, effortless smile.
Kon, simply by the nature of his origins, had never had a family, never had the feeling of belonging to something larger than himself. He had been alone, with the very real fear that he would spend eternity in the exact same state, right up until the moment he met Ichigo. Somehow, against all odds, he had found himself a part of a very vibrant, very real structure. Ichigo's family had become his family, and he was unwilling to part with them, even if it meant he had to share their time. Even if it meant he had to wait in the bitter darkness between those moments of warmth and light. Urahara understood what drove the need, understood that gaping fear of isolation, and he found it heartbreaking.
"They would still know you, even in another form," he broached the taboo subject gently.
"Yuzu wouldn't," Kon's lips twisting briefly into a tired, self-deprecating smile.
"She would accept you easily, especially with Ichigo and Karin's support; it's one of her most charming qualities," Urahara pressed.
"It wouldn't be the same." Kon finally met his eyes, the hurt flickering briefly across his face.
Urahara reached out, reacting to the familiar, haunted pain, sliding a hand behind his neck and drawing him into a gentle embrace. Kon stiffened for a moment, holding himself rigid as though expecting some further assault, but Urahara remained still and slowly the lull of the warmth began to whisper bittersweet promises into his skin. In its flowing caress Kon could almost believe in a simpler life, where compassion was easy and acceptance was free. Where the fears and knowledge burned forever into his bones were nothing more than the threads of old nightmares to be washed away with the morning's kiss. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he cast aside his embarrassment for one brief moment and allowed himself the comfort of being held.
"It could never be the same," he repeated, his voice so soft that it died almost the instant it passed trembling from his lips.
"I suppose you're right," Urahara murmured against his temple, staring out into the empty lot once more. "But different isn't always worse."
They stood like that for a time, Urahara kneading slow circles against the knots of tension formed by Kon and Ichigo's years of abuse. The mod soul gradually relaxed, his head falling forward as clever fingers worked their way up his neck. Hesitantly, haltingly, as if unsure he was allowed such a thing, his arms slid around Urahara's waist, returning the embrace. The older man smiled softly, stroking through his wild tangle of hair but the despondency refused to leave him as he continued to offer what small comfort he could against yet another pain that was beyond his reach.
"You do realize that I'm not Ichigo, right?" Kon drawled lazily, breaking the easy silence.
Urahara's lips twitched up at the corners. "I assure you, I am quite capable of telling the difference, despite the similarities in your appearance."
"Hmm," Kon didn't sound entirely convinced.
"Believe me, if I mistook you for Ichigo you'd know it," Urahara chuckled; running a finger up the back of his neck in what was fast becoming a familiar gesture.
"Why do you keep doing that?" the mod soul demanded, pulling back to glare and shivering despite his best efforts.
"For the most part, I do it because it amuses Karin," Urahara admitted freely, studying him with weighted curiosity. "Though I think that somewhere under all the complaints, you like it as well."
Kon's lips parted on a surprised breath, the color creeping into his cheeks. He recovered quickly, falling back on years of sarcasm and control. "You know I'm not into guys."
Urahara brought a hand up, trailing his knuckles over the faint hint of pink still lingering beneath the almost invisible freckles. "That doesn't mean you don't enjoy being touched."
Kon seemed momentarily lost; a look of profound loneliness fluttering briefly through his eyes before they fell shut to hide his soul. He leaned without thought into the caress as Urahara repeated the gesture, catching the single tear that slid glittering from the confines of his dark lashes. The blond leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to the mod soul's forehead before pulling him back against his shoulder.
"None of us see you as a placeholder for anyone, Kon," he assured him, wishing he could make him believe. "You are your own person, despite your outward appearance, and that is what we all see in you."
"Don't think you can sweet talk your way into my pants," Kon drawled shakily, his voice thick with the effort to regain his composure.
"You can't blame me for trying," Urahara said wryly, turning his attention back to the sky.
"I knew this would happen." Ichigo's voice rolled over them and Kon reacted instantly, pulling away as though he'd been burned.
"I'm not…it's just…," he stuttered, wide-eyed and swiping furtively at his cheeks. He opened his mouth to continue, but a quick glance at Ichigo revealed the telltale signs of a smirk and Urahara's low chuckle licked at his ears. Kon scowled darkly, but it was ruined by his now rising blush.
"You two are really messed up," he accused, giving them each a sulking glare.
"We're all fucked up," Ichigo corrected, strolling slowly toward them.
"Whatever." Kon rolled his eyes, still looking flustered as he gave Ichigo a pointed look. "You need to spend some time with your sisters."
He snatched Benihime from the wall, fully intending to shed Ichigo's body before any new horror could befall him, but the younger man caught his arm at the last second. They stared at each other in silence, Ichigo looking thoughtful and Kon both bewildered and wary as the grip holding him captive relaxed, a thumb stroking absently over some half-forgotten scar on the inside of the wrist they had shared for years. Ichigo's free hand rose, tracing the mod soul's lips, catching the breath humid against his skin as they parted in silent question. Ichigo cocked his head, brows pulling slightly in response to some unspoken thought as his eyes raked over the face that was his and not his at the same time.
"I'll try not to make you wait too long," the younger man promised, watching the familiar eyes flare in the instant before Benihime connected and the little green ball roll into the palm of his waiting hand.
His body slumped awkwardly as it fell and Ichigo staggered, still juggling Benihime and Kon's fragile, true self. Urahara stepped in, rescuing his precariously balanced zanpakutou and the mod soul from danger so Ichigo could reassume his physical form.
"How long were you there?" the blond wondered aloud, watching the younger man roll his shoulder as if to settle his skin on its frame. Ichigo's reiatsu suppression skills, though still far from perfect, had come a long way since their journey began.
"Awhile," he admitted with another rolling shrug.
"He really is a remarkable character," Urahara mused, staring down at the tiny orb nestled helpless in his palm. "His deceptions and laughter flow so smoothly at times that I almost forget how much he hides."
"It's not fair to him." Ichigo ran an agitated hand through his hair, the old frustration simmering close to the surface.
Urahara grabbed him by the hips and spun him to face the lot, wrapping his arms around him from behind.
"It's not," he agreed, resting his forehead against the back of Ichigo's hair, "but it's how he wants it for now.
"Sometimes I think I should just let him keep my body," the younger man confessed, crossing his arms over Urahara's and sinking deeper into him. "It would be easier for everyone."
"Are you feeling melodramatic again?" the blond asked, nuzzling him affectionately.
"I'm serious," Ichigo shifted irritably, knocking him away. "He's better with them – with the girls, with my dad, with the people at school. Everyone."
"So you are feeling melodramatic," Urahara confirmed, nipping gently at his ear.
"I mean it, Kisuke." He turned to glare, only to be cut off by a pair of warm lips.
Urahara pulled back, planting a second kiss on the tip of his nose. "You can't just hand off your life to Kon; he needs one of his own." He kissed him again, slower this time, soothing. "And you need to live yours."
"Maybe I don't want to," Ichigo muttered petulantly, but Urahara knew it was mostly for show.
Ichigo was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the human side of his existence, having returned to his world to find that he had little in common with those he had left behind. He was unable to find a footing with classmates whose worries consisted of little more than dating, pop-culture, and the next big test. He could find little to say to teachers, or parents, or strangers on the street who thought they knew enough of the world to give them even a clue as to how lucky they were for every breath that they took. He didn't resent them for their sheltered existence, it was one of the things he had struggled so hard to protect, he simply didn't have the time or patience to deal with it anymore. Urahara completely understood the sentiment, shared it even, but he also recognized that allowing Ichigo to fully withdraw from his former life was not a viable solution to the problem.
"How is Ishida doing these days?" he asked, ignoring the half-hearted grumbles and pulling him closer.
"Still fucking around in America with his Quincy-bitch father," Ichigo spat, turning back to stare at nothing.
"Hmm." Urahara rested his chin on Ichigo's shoulder and followed his line of sight.
Ryuuken was a sore subject with a lot of people. In the end, he had put aside his personal feelings long enough to join the war, but he had never been even remotely pleasant, and he had never let the Shinigami forget how much he despised them. When it was over, he left the country within days, putting an ocean between his son and the influences he saw as a filthy corruption. No one knew exactly why Uryuu had agreed to the move, but he still kept in touch and it was Urahara's opinion that it was only a matter of time before he returned in spite of his father's demands.
"What about Inoue?" Urahara pressed further into dangerous territory.
Ichigo was silent for a long moment, more likely contemplating if he was going to answer than what he was going to say. Ishida was an easier topic because he had been trained to fight since childhood and had involved himself in the fray through his own stubborn persistence. The others, who had obtained their abilities through Ichigo's lack of control, were another matter entirely. He had never really forgiven himself for what they suffered because of a curse he felt he had bestowed on them.
"She's living with Tatsuki downtown," he finally replied, his shoulders slumping in the aftermath of tension. "She works at some restaurant after school."
"Hmm," Urahara intoned again. He was, of course, aware of this himself, and had even been in to see her at work, but it was important to draw Ichigo back into the larger world sometimes. "And Sado?"
"You know how Chad is," Ichigo countered bitterly; "You're the one who does the maintenance on his new arm."
"The arm is fine; it's exactly like the one he lost, probably better. It even still works with his Brazo Izquierda del Diablo," the former captain relayed clinically. "I was inquiring as to how he is outside of that."
"He's fine," Ichigo muttered, "Inoue's dragging him off to look at some university next week."
"You should have them over sometime," he urged, "They probably miss you."
"They wanted me to go with them," Ichigo admitted softly.
"You should." Urahara turned to press a kiss behind his ear.
"I have things to do." He sighed, tilting his head slightly away.
"It's only an afternoon," Urahara pointed out, trailing his lips down the younger mans neck.
"I told them I was busy." Ichigo leaned into the touch, withdrawing further from the world around them.
There had been a time after the war when Ichigo and his human friends had remained close, relying on each other to settle back into normalcy. It hadn't lasted, though, because Ichigo's guilt refused to die and the others never fully understood the forces that drove him. Of them all, only Ishida had gone with them into the fires of the final battles. Only Ishida knew the things that clawed at the backs of their eyes and ate at their souls in the darkest hours of the night.
Chad had lost his arm during an early skirmish, a simple recon mission that had turned out to be an ambush. Ichigo hadn't been there, and for that he blamed himself, just as he always did. To the Shinigami, the loss of a limb was considered a minor injury, even though the taint of Aizen's specially developed spells had prevented Inoue from rejecting the event. Creating a new arm was not of any real concern to them, but Ichigo had taken it hard, the guilt gnawing at his already raw nerves. He sent all the humans away from the fight after that, unable to bear his responsibility for their continued suffering.
Ishida alone had a tenacity to rival Ichigo's, as well as the power to needed to give him a chance in what had become a bitter conflict. In the end they had gone toe to toe over the matter in the most ferocious way possible. Ichigo, silver eyed and furious, had flown at Ishida, whose own reiatsu was flaring so heavily that he almost appeared to have wings. The resulting explosion had left a crater nearly 200 yards across, in the center of which the two of them continued to clash as though they could dominate the other through sheer force of will. In truth, Ichigo could have overpowered Ishida, but he would have needed to draw on his mask, and risk lasting damage to a friend who was only doing what he would have done in the same position. He had finally conceded the point, as they lay panting in their ruined battlefield, and Ishida went on with them until the bloody end.
Urahara's eyes slid shut as he sighed against Ichigo's shirt. He had already said all there was to say on the subject, and he knew repeating himself would do no good. It was up to the man in his arms to recognize that distancing himself from the people who had loved him for so long was no way to protect them, or to atone for the past.
"Maybe next time," he suggested, "You really should start looking into universities, considering your grades are near the top of your class."
"You're just trying to get rid of me," Ichigo accused mildly, effectively dodging the issue.
"Every chance I get," Urahara confirmed nipping at his shoulder. Ichigo was aware of the decisions awaiting his attention; there was no reason to drive them home. "We should head back in and make breakfast before the children stage some sort of coup."
"You're full of shit, we both know Ururu does the cooking around here," Ichigo muttered, but pulled away none the less.
"I supervise," Urahara claimed loftily, lingering against the wall for a moment longer.
"Bullshit," Ichigo shot back. "You supervise getting in the way and sticking your fingers in stuff."
"Quality control," Urahara assured him with a smirk.
"Sure." Ichigo rolled his eyes, passing back into the building and out of sight.
(*)
"You're ridiculous and I hate you," Karin stated calmly, poking a bit of rice into her mouth and staring across the table at Hitsugaya.
"You hate me?" he asked dryly, as if needing confirmation.
She nodded and continued chewing.
"Because I don't know who Nakamura Shunsuke is?" The genius captain apparently needed further clarification.
She nodded again, "How can you play soccer and not know Nakamura?"
"I very rarely play soccer willingly," he reminded her, kneading his right temple with two fingers.
"I still hate you," she assured him, prompting a series of snickers from Jinta who was watching their conversation with sadistic amusement.
Ichigo shifted moodily as the captain of the 10th division squeeze his eyes shut in a bid for patience.
"Is Nakamura Shunsuke the guy on your wall?" Yuzu asked absently, turning briefly from the conversation she was having with Ururu.
"Thank you!" Karin waved her chopsticks dramatically, "at least someone's been paying attention."
Jinta snorted and even Ururu stifled a giggle as Hitsugaya's face slid into his hands. Yuzu's presence prevented him from replying as anything other than a normal 13 year old friend of Karin's, and so he was left primarily at her mercy. She, being aware of this fact, was exploiting his weakness to the fullest extent of her abilities.
They launched into another topic, this time with Jinta joining the fray, and Ichigo resisted the urge to glare at the young captain for his perceived role in this outrage. He shifted again on his cushion and winced, proceeding a little more cautiously as he settled back into place. He hadn't noticed so much while he was standing, but there was a definite, lingering soreness in certain areas now that he was seated. He scowled a little, ignoring the urge to squirm.
"This is precisely why I usually insist on heavier types of lubrication." Urahara murmured, his voice barely carrying to Ichigo's ears over the laughter at the table.
"I'm fine," he growled, glancing at his sisters to make sure they were still occupied elsewhere.
"You're really too tense for saliva to be adequate, especially in a shower," Urahara continued, watching him from the corner of his eye, "and to use it again the next day only compounded the problem."
"Will you be quiet," Ichigo hissed, glancing across the table to where Yuzu was giggling at the deadpan look Hitsugaya was giving the wall.
Urahara chuckled, letting his gaze drop briefly to the area in question before changing the subject.
"Do you have any plans for today?" he asked in a less secretive tone, taking a sip of tea.
"No." Ichigo gave him one last scowl, having noticed the not so subtle glance. "I have some homework I have to finish, but I thought I'd leave the rest up to someone else."
"That seems like a safe plan," the blond agreed with a nod and an enduring smirk.
"I have to meet with some people later," Hitsugaya joined their conversation, giving them both a look that conveyed exactly who he had to meet with.
Ichigo's jaw clenched but he managed a nod, while Urahara seemed to lapse into thought.
"Oh, Toushirou-kun can't spend the afternoon with us?" Yuzu sounded genuinely disappointed at the loss.
"I'm sure he'll be back when he's done with his friends," Urahara assured her, his eyes not leaving the captain until he received an answering nod.
Karin had gone silent as well, and those who were capable could feel the burn of her anger simmering around them.
"We should go out for ice cream," Jinta blurted suddenly, kicking Karin under the table and smiling at Yuzu.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Urahara agreed easily, turning to Ichigo, "How do you feel about ice cream?"
"It's 9 in the morning," he pointed out evenly, giving the older man a strange look.
"I think it's a great idea," Karin added hastily, rubbing her ankle.
"Then it's settled," Urahara nodded, "we shall go for after-breakfast ice cream."
"I don't really feel like it," Ichigo shrugged. "You guys go without me."
"Sitting around and brooding isn't going to change anything," the blond coaxed, lowering his voice.
"I'm fine," Ichigo muttered stubbornly.
"Obviously," Urahara drawled, cocking a pale eyebrow and running a finger along the sole of a conveniently bare foot.
"Dammit, Kisuke," Ichigo yelped, banging his knee into the table as he jerked away.
"Are you Ichi-nii's boyfriend?" Yuzu broke in softly, effectively crashing the conversation into a wall.
Ichigo snapped up to find everyone frozen in place and staring at Yuzu who was, in turn, staring at Urahara with utter sincerity.
"What?" Ichigo spluttered, looking between Urahara, who was carefully returning his tea to the table, and his sister, who turned to face him when he spoke, "Why the hell would you say something like that?"
"Isn't that why daddy's mad at you?" she asked gently, a rare frown marring her brow, "because you have an older boyfriend?"
Ichigo's jaw snapped closed as he was forced to remind himself that general sweetness did not, in fact, denote a lack of attention to one's surroundings. He looked to Urahara but found him studying his teacup intently, much as he had during the initial confrontation with Isshin.
"Dad's just being stupid," Karin supplied, "you know how he gets about Ichi-nii."
"I know," Yuzu mumbled, looking uncertain, "but it's different this time."
She looked around the sea of faces as if looking for the answer to some unknown question. She paused the longest on Ichigo, who was still gaping amidst a rising flush, before returning to the blond staring down into nothing. She rose from her cushion and circled the table, crouching in front of Urahara. Her gaze passed briefly to her brother, who met it with apprehension, before she seemed to come to a decision.
"It's okay if you're his boyfriend," she whispered, placing a hand on his arm, "you seem nice and you make him happier. He needs someone to make him happy."
Urahara's eyes softened and he reached out to tuck some loose hair behind her ear. "Your spirit never ceased to amaze me," he told her gently, "but I'm not sure your brother would appreciate you calling me his boyfriend."
Ichigo ran a hand over his face, like he couldn't believe this was happening and Yuzu looked between them once more, obviously upset by his response. She turned back to the table, to the others staring transfixed at the unfolding drama and her face fell, her lips parting slightly in dismay.
"I'm sorry," she gasped, turning back to Urahara, "It was wrong of me to bring it up here. I didn't mean to make everyone uncomfortable."
There were tears welling in her eyes as she started to turn away and Ichigo finally snapped out of his stupor. He leaned forward over Urahara, catching her hand before she could rise and pulling her back around.
"It's okay, Yuzu," he assured her, "no one's uncomfortable, it's just a little complicated."
She nodded shakily, uncertainty still lingering in her eyes. "I shouldn't have called him your boyfriend. I just thought…I don't know," she shrugged helplessly.
"Don't be sorry," he frowned, aware that he was not well equipped to handle this sort of thing, "I'm just not sure boyfriend is the right word."
Looking between them, he found her wrist still clutched in the confines of his much larger hand, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, thumb trailing over the fragile bones, before releasing her. He sat back, reaching for a glass of water and raising it to his lips in a bid for more time to think of the proper response to give her.
"What about lover?" Yuzu whispered after a moment's thought, trying to correct her earlier misunderstanding. "That's having sex with someone when it's not really a relationship, right?"
Ichigo choked into his glass, inhaling a mouthful of water and spraying the all with a fine mist as he spluttered incredulously. Urahara gave him a mild, appraising look as he slipped an arm around him, retrieving the offending cup patting him gently on the back.
"I'm sorry," Yuzu seemed even more distressed at the outburst. "Is that not right?"
"I think it's a fairly adequate term," Urahara smiled reassuringly, ignoring what sounded suspiciously like an 'oh, fuck' as he pulled the still choking Ichigo against his shoulder.
She tried to return his smile but couldn't manage it, still watching her brother in apparent concern.
Ichigo, having finally regained control of his lungs, raised his head to look at her through watering eyes. She seemed worried and he realized most of that was his fault, for being what Urahara would probably term melodramatic. She was just asking a simple question, and it wasn't like he was hiding anything, at least not about this. He tried to smooth his features into one of those comfortable looks he always saw Kon using, but it came out as more of a grimace.
Ichigo shot a surreptitious glance at their audience, noting the way Jinta seemed to be gnawing a hole in his lip to keep from laughing and the fact the Karin was sporting a grin like her birthday had come early. He glared at them both before returning to Yuzu, who was still agonizing over her assumed indiscretion. Reaching out, he once again borrowed from Kon in the easy way he ruffled her hair, and, judging by the way the tension melted from her frame, he must have got it right this time.
"I didn't mean to say anything," she admitted sheepishly, looking worlds happier for the small affection. "I just didn't think it was a big deal since everyone else already knew."
"You figured that out?" Karin seemed fascinated by this new, observant side of her twin.
Yuzu nodded, "I knew that everyone was upset about someone Ichi-nii was seeing, but I didn't know who until now." She smiled at Urahara before turning back to her sister. "That day you and Ichi-nii were late after school, Daddy kept muttering about old perverts and…well a lot of naughty words, but I guessed that meant you were with whoever he were seeing. After I realized it was Kisuke-san, I knew Jinta-kun and Uru-chan had to know, too, because Ichi-nii must stay here all those nights he doesn't come home and Jinta-kun kept rolling his eyes at them when he thought no one was looking."
She shrugged with a little smile, as though proud of herself for having reasoned this out, but faltered as her gaze fell on Hitsugaya. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it gently as if unsure how to continue.
"I saw you give them a naughty look earlier when they were talking. I don't know if Karin told you, or if you just figured it out like I did, but you shouldn't be like that." She frowned in gentle admonishment. "Ichi-nii isn't doing anything bad, he can like whoever he wants, even if it's another boy."
Ichigo's eyes darted to the young captain, wincing at what he must have overheard to prompt the naughty look, but Hitsugaya was distracted by Karin's snort of laughter.
"Yeah, Toushirou, quit being so fucking intolerant," she snickered.
"Karin!" Yuzu exclaimed, her eyes going wide.
"Shit," Karin muttered and then flinched again. She'd grown accustomed to saying whatever she liked at the shop and it was a hard habit to break. Across the table, Hitsugaya smirked as if this were justice of some sort.
Yuzu shook her head at them both, turning back to Ichigo who was still staring as thought seeing her for the first time.
"I just want you to be happy," she whispered up at him earnestly. "You're never happy anymore."
"I'm sorry you've been worried." He knew it was inadequate but he didn't know how to make it better.
"Daddy's more worried than I am," she confessed, her eyes full of that guileless trust she always seemed to exude. "I know you'll be okay."
She was so sincere in her belief that he couldn't help the small tug of a smile that pulled at his lips, or the brief, genuine stirring of hope. Urahara's hand slid to his neck, thumb tracing his spine as through urging him forward.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said awkwardly, because he could think of nothing else. "Everyone knew so I guess I should have said something."
"It's okay," she assured him. "You like to have secrets."
This wasn't really true, but he couldn't correct her without explaining his need for the secrets and so he said nothing at all. She didn't seem to mind the silence, cocking her head to the side to study Urahara more intently.
"You know, with all the fuss everyone's making I was expecting someone at least daddy's age," she confided. "You're nowhere near that old."
"Um, yeah…." Ichigo grimaced again, casting a glance at Urahara who was grinning at his sister like she could do no wrong. He had to admit, the blond was aging incredibly well. He could probably pass for 30, maybe even younger, unless someone really took the time to look past his eyes.
"Dad's just being…overprotective," Karin censored herself properly this time. "He's making it a big deal when he shouldn't."
Yuzu nodded as she rose, making her way back to her own cushion. "When he gets back we'll just have to make him see its okay," she said practically, looking determined before brightening on a thought. "He can't really be that mad, right? I mean he let us stay here after all."
Karin hesitated, biting her tongue against an angry retort. She really didn't know what the long term plan was, but she figured that Yuzu was bound to notice if they never went home and she didn't want to upset anyone before she had to. She glanced away, catching a fleeting glimpse of the same thought in Ichigo before he blinked it aside, leaning unconsciously against Urahara, whose normally unreadable mask was tempered with a vague sense of sadness.
"I should be going," Hitsugaya finally deemed it safe to break in. "I have to meet with my friends in an hour or so."
Yuzu voiced her dismay again, but he assured her that he would be back as soon as possible which seemed to appease her. He made his way to the door, pausing to casting a lingering glance back at Urahara and Ichigo, as though to reassure them of his intent, before slipping away.
Ichigo let out the breath he'd been holding, his head falling against Urahara's shoulder as the arm tightened fractionally around him. He tried to shake off the rolling anger for the sake of the others, but the claws were sinking in and he could already feel small measure of his earlier peace evaporating.
"It's going to be fine," Urahara whispered against his hair, too quiet for the others to hear. "We should go out, keep your mind off of it."
"I don't want any damn ice cream," Ichigo muttered, exasperated.
"You two are so cute," Yuzu exclaimed happily, un-phased by the seemingly unwarranted shift in the atmosphere.
Ichigo looked up, startled, and felt Urahara chuckle softly. He hadn't been referred to as cute in that tone in years and he really wasn't sure how to handle it.
"This is really okay with you?" He was still waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop.
"You're doing really well in school and you don't seem as sad anymore," she smiled at him again, looking so much like his mother in that instant that it pulled at something deep inside. "I just want you to be happy. You are happier, right?"
"Yeah, I guess I am," Ichigo admitted, wondering how that was possible with everything that had happened.
"Well that's what matters. As long as you're happy and safe then I'm happy too," she said sincerely.
Yuzu smiled that motherly smile again and Ichigo felt the last embers of his anger fade to ash. She was like a beacon calling out from a simpler time, a reminder of everything he had fought so hard to preserve. This was why she needed to be saved from the world and all the dark things lurking deep in the shadows. This was why he had brought her here.
"You are using protection, right?" she asked suddenly, her tone reminding them that she had been working in a clinic years. "Protection is really important."
Ichigo was saved from his horrified silence by Karin choking on sheer, overwhelming glee as she dropped her head into her folded arms amidst a series of undignified snorts. Beside her, Jinta looked like this was quite possibly the greatest conversation he had ever witnessed, leaning forward so as not to miss a single word. Ichigo turned to Urahara blankly and found the older man looking slightly guilty and more than a little amused.
"You shouldn't laugh," Yuzu scolded her sister. "I'm being serious."
Karin bit her lip, looking up at her twin and then to Ichigo, who had adopted a rather surly scowl in the absence of an appropriate response. She choked again.
"It's important to be safe about these things," Yuzu insisted, sinking into an even more clinical tone.
"I think ice cream was a good idea," Ichigo interjected sharply, fearing that she might launch into a lecture of why exactly she believed this to be true. "Everyone out. Go get ready."
For a second Yuzu looked inclined to argue, but then seemed to realize that Ichigo was agreeing to the ice cream and broke into a huge grin. She hopped up, grabbing Karin and Ururu and practically dragged them from the room, possibly fearing that Ichigo would rethink his decision if left to brood for any length of time. Jinta followed more slowly, looking sullen and disappointed as through he'd been denied a much coveted prize.
"What the hell," Ichigo muttered after a long silence, running a hand over his face. He climbed slowly to his feet, stacking the scattered dishes and heading for the kitchen. "My life can't possibly get any more fucked up."
"Be careful how loud you say that," Urahara warned, following behind him with a smile.
"My 13 year old sister shouldn't be lecturing me about protection," Ichigo mumbled, dumping the dishes into the sink and turning to take the rest.
"Apparently we need to be lectured," Urahara pointed out mildly.
"She shouldn't know that," Ichigo exclaimed, coloring at the thought.
He turned to leave but Urahara caught him, pulling him into his arms and turning to pin him to the counter. He raised a hand, tracing the blush along his cheekbone, sliding lower to cup his jaw. Ichigo sighed into his touch and Urahara smiled, kissing his forehead softly.
"You seem uncomfortable with all of this," he murmured, running his other hand up the younger man's back.
"It's not that," Ichigo huffed, snaking his arms around his neck."It's just…it's fucking Yuzu!"
"She certainly is a surprise on occasion," Urahara chuckled.
Ichigo groaned, dropping his head against Urahara's neck. "It's not funny."
Urahara pulled him closer, still smiling softly. Times like these, where there was room for embarrassment and gentle teasing, were becoming increasingly rare. He wished more than anything that he had the power to maintain this balance, this small measure of peace, but that, like so many things in his world, was beyond his control. The sense of helpless frustration pulsed a little deeper, pulling at the edges of his smile as Ichigo began to shiver against him. He leaned back, staring down in concern only to find, astonishingly, that Ichigo was snickering.
"Okay, so maybe it's a little funny, but shit -," Ichigo shook his head, hair tickling against Urahara's jaw. "No more fucking sex advice from my sisters."
Urahara hooked a finger under his jaw, tipping it up to catch that fleeting mirth in his eyes. He released him, using the press of his body to hold him in place and framed his face between his hands. Ichigo remained relaxed, regarding him with an easy, lingering smile and Urahara leaned in, kissing him soft and slow as if to burn the taste of his happiness forever on his tongue.
Ichigo's arms tightened around his neck, leaning into him as Urahara's hands trailed through his hair. He moaned softly, stroking the tongue that slid teasing past his lips, tilting his head to draw him further in. There was a quiet urgency simmering through Urahara, powerful and overwhelming, consuming him so thoroughly that Ichigo was left breathless and dizzy.
They broke away, panting quietly and Ichigo could see the tension lurking behind Urahara's gaze; a wistful, melancholy sadness. He unwound an arm and reached up, brushing the pale hair back, tracing the barely visible frown. Ichigo leaned in, kissing him again to sooth the ache that he recognized even without understanding.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly; thumb still stroking the curve of his brow.
"I'm fine," Urahara assured him with that same wistful smile.
Ichigo gave him a slightly dubious look but didn't press. Urahara was still unwilling to admit to a great many of his concerns, as though such an admission would somehow unbalance their strange dynamic. As though he was not allowed to be anything other than the reassuring voice with the calming words and soothing answers. Ichigo knew there was a deeper story, could see it tugging at the edges and seeping through he slowly forming cracks, but had no idea how to get to it. One thing he did know, however, was that the direct approach rarely met with success. As frustrating as it was, sometimes it was just better to let it go. For now.
He nudged Urahara backward and slipped around him, pausing by the door to glance back. That same assessing frown passed over his features before it fell away with a heavy sigh and the returning scowl.
"Come on; let's go get you some damn ice cream."
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Shades of Grey