Chapter Text
Everybody knew about the 12th’s lieutenant. He was the subject of much gossip in the Gotei 13, though, Kisuke mused, everyone was the subject of gossip in the Gotei 13. If there was one thing soul reapers liked to do, it was to talk. However the point stood that the 12th’s lieutenant made for quite the striking figure. He stirred shinigami to talk like no other.
It really wasn’t an exaggeration to say that everyone knew about the 12th’s lieutenant.
Everyone, it seemed but Urahara Kisuke himself. The very same Urahara Kisuke who as of today was the captain of the 12th.
And wasn’t that something. Rukongai rat Urahara Kisuke, a captain. He couldn’t say he was thrilled with the development. He was first and foremost, a scientist, second and trained, an assassin, and third a warden. He wasn’t a leader. He didn’t know how to be a leader. Kisuke couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the thought of an entire division looking up to him for orders, for guidance, for support. He followed orders, he didn’t give them. He took lives, swiftly and without mercy. He didn’t know how to feel when so many people entrusted their lives to him.
But Yoruichi had insisted, and his application was approved.
So after a long and arduous captain’s meeting, he begrudgingly walked to his new division. Though, Yoruichi dragging him off to his new division was a more accurate description.
“You’ll do great, Kisuke,” she said, pulling him along by the collar, “you just need to stop moping about it and actually do it.”
“Of course,” he said, stumbling to his feet so she would stop dragging him.
Yoruichi looked him in the eye, something softer in her eye than normal, “I’m serious Kisuke. You’ll do fine. Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worried,” he said.
“You’re a good liar,” she cuffed him on the back of the head, “but not nearly good enough to lie to me. I know your tells, you bastard.”
“I don’t have any tells,” he said, onmitsukido pride rearing its head.
She smiled, “Exactly. That’s how I know you’re lying. When every minute twitch or gesture disappears.”
He frowned, cataloging that away as something to work on. “I’m not used to commanding people.”
Yoruichi sighed, “The pitfalls of being the perfect subordinate, I guess.” she placed her hands on her hips, giving him a stern look that told him this was final, “You’re going to be fine, Kisuke. You’ll get the hang of it soon enough. If you can adapt as quickly in this as you do on the battlefield, then this should be easy for you.”
They finally reached the gates of the 12th division’s barracks. She patted him on the back, giving him a reassuring smile, “Besides, if you need any help, Shiba-fukutaichou can always help.”
Kisuke paused, confused, “Shiba-fukutaichou is the 13th’s lieutenant.” As far as he knew Kaien hadn’t switched divisions. That man was loyal to a fault and would rather die than be separated from the 13th and his captain.
She waved him off, “Not that one, dummy. The other one.”
He blinked, “There’s two?”
She snorted, “Sure, Kaien cloned himself and took over the 12th as well. Haven’t you heard?”
He stared at her, lost.
She stopped smiling, “Wait, you seriously don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“How do you not know about your own lieutenant!” she exclaimed.
He raised his hands placatingly, “In my defense,” he said softly, “I wasn’t aware I was going to be a captain at all until today.”
“That may be, but do you live under a rock? Who doesn’t know about Shiba Ichigo?”
“Who now?”
She dragged a hand over her face, “Soul king help me.”
Yoruichi placed a hand on his shoulder, suddenly serious, “Listen carefully to me Kisuke. The only reason you’re the captain of the 12th right now is because Ichigo wouldn’t step up himself. He’s been the lieutenant of that squad for nearly a hundred years, and has carried the twelfth on his back throughout that time. Don’t piss him off, he’s got the entirety of the 12th behind him.”
“Why hasn’t he stepped up to captain?” Kisuke asked, “Surely in that time other squads have had vacant captain positions.”
“They have,” Yoruichi said, “and he’s been recommended numerous times. He’s at captain level, everybody knows it, and would be approved in a heartbeat. But he always turns down the promotion, and won’t even switch squads. He’s been adamantly stuck as the 12th’s lieutenant for as long as anyone can remember.”
“Ah,” Kisuke said, admittedly at a loss for words. After a moment, he said, “I’m sure I can find a way to work with him.”
“He’s a good guy Kisuke, just be careful.”
“I will,” he promised, finally pushing open the doors to the 12th division.
He didn’t know what he was doing. He had no idea how to be a leader, and the white captain’s haori felt constricting and heavy against his skin. It wasn’t like the onmitsukido uniform which fit him so well. Instead it was forigne, practically screaming at him ‘you don’t belong’ But Kisuke still wore it.
Kisuke wasn’t good at this whole ‘captain’ thing. Not yet. But he was good at following orders. And if he was ordered to fulfill this job, he would.
Though nervous, he stepped past the threshold into the 12th division.
—
The first time Kisuke actually met the infamous Shiba Ichigo, he pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
When he confirmed he was, in fact, awake, the shock set in. Because the man in front of him was Shiba Kaien. If Shiba Kaien dyed his hair bright orange and lost his ability to smile. Everything from his face, to his height, to his easy confidence was nearly identical to that of his cousin. Brother? He had no idea. Kisuke wouldn’t have been surprised if they were twins.
Sitting at Urahara’s new desk -and what he supposed was really just Hikifune’s old one- Ichigo sat and sifted his way through a mountain of paperwork. In the warm light of Hikifune’s office, he was cast in a soft glow. His hair caught the sunlight just so that it framed his face in a fiery halo. And his eyes, though Kisuke knew them to be brown, glowed almost golden.
Kisuke lurked in the hallway, just out of view from his lieutenant, taking the time to observe the man. He watched every move in an almost revenant fascination. It seemed that everything he did was effortlessly elegant. His reiatsu signature was weak, the cool taste of shadows clinging tightly to his skin. And yet, despite the barely noticeable signature, each movement Ichigo made carried a degree of power to it that both awed Kisuke and set him on edge.
Ichigo sighed, and rested his chin on the palm of his hand, strands of hair falling loose across his face.
He was beautiful, Kisuke couldn’t help but think. The thought came unbidden and entirely unwelcome, yet it also came to his mind as easily as breathing. Kisuke quickly squashed the emotion, and forced it from his head.
The Shiba lifted his head suddenly, looking right at where Kisuke was hiding, like he knew he was there the entire time. For a single moment, his eyes lit up with an emotion Kisuke couldn’t place. Then it was gone. As quickly as it had come, replaced by something colder and guarded.
Ichigo tilted his head, “Well?” he asked, “Are you going to introduce yourself or just stand there all day?”
“Sorry,” Kisuke said, slinking out of the hallway, “I was just-”
“I look like my cousin, don’t I?” Ichigo guessed, the frown on his face conveying it was something he had heard many times.
“Cousin?” Kisuke found himself asking.
Ichigo shrugged, “Technically. Maybe a couple times removed. Nobody knows.”
Kisuke filed that away, but decided not to press any further. It was something to look into at a later date.
Instead he stepped forward, approaching his desk, “Urahara Kisuke,” he introduced himself, “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Glad to be working with you, Urahara-taichou,” Ichigo said, “Shiba Ichigo. Don’t be afraid to ask me for anything you need.”
“Thank you, Shiba-fukutaichou.”
Ichigo’s mouth twitched down, “Just call me Ichigo. Shiba-fukutaicho is Kaien.”
“Very well, Ichigo-san.”
Ichigo rolled his eyes, “ Just Ichigo. Formalities never suited me.”
Kisuke decided to ignore the request. Years of etiquette training in the onmitsukido had hammered politeness into the very core of his being. He looked over his desk, and the paperwork that was strewn across it.
“What’s with all this?” he asked.
Ichigo sighed, “Useless paperwork. You wouldn't believe how much unnecessary stuff needs to be filed and signed when a new captain is appointed.”
“I apologize, Ichigo-san.”
“Don’t,” Ichigo said bluntly, “If anything it’s Hikifune-taichou’s fault for leaving. If I ever see her again I’ll never let her hear the end of it.”
Kisuke sat down beside him, “Is there any way for me to help?”
Ichigo stared at him for a moment, as if surprised he was offering, “Sure,” he said after a moment, “but I warn you, this will take quite a while.”
“Then all the better to have two sets of hands instead of one.”
Ichigo nodded his head gratefully, and handed him a stack of paper. Together they slowly began to work their way through the copious amount of filing.
—
While Kisuke stuck out in the 12th division like a sore thumb, Ichigo seemed to fit right in. He always knew where to be and when, and kept the division running with ease.
In comparison to Kisuke, who slunk through the halls, trying desperately not to run into anyone and shying away from his subordinates, Ichigo could be found directing everyone in the division from seated officers to the newest recruit. Whenever Kisuke saw him, he was always helping someone else, a scowl fixed permanently on his face, but gentle and soft with his words.
He talked quite bluntly, with such disregard to etiquette that it made Kisuke balk. As a member of the five noble clans, Kisuke would have expected Ichigo to have some decorum, but no. If Ichigo had an idea, he would share it. Damn the consequences. However, his approach seemed to work for the twelfth division, who took what he said as the word of god.
Privately, Kisuke mused that if the division had to choose between Ichigo-fukutaichou or the soul king himself, they would pick Ichigo without a moment’s hesitation.
It took Kisuke a week to find -and subsequently wonder why- he had virtually no work to do. Ichigo was doing all of it.
At most, a few forms would appear at his desk, or Ichigo would come to him for approval of a plan or an opinion, but other than that, he did nothing. Kisuke wasn’t the most well versed at his job, but he was sure it had to be harder than it was.
Still, with nothing to do, he delved into his research. Hikifune’s old labs created a good basis for what he wanted to do, but weren’t enough. With his extra time he transformed them from something that was handed down to him, into something that was truly his own.
Something felt so right about pursuing his research, to invent and create and destroy. His mind craved it, to look at something and find out every little thing about it. Kisuke supposed he had always been like that. It was what had attracted him to the complicated forms of Kido, to wanting to twist their set forms into something new. It was like he was meant to do it.
Still, he felt uneasy.
While he spent hours locked away in his labs and neglected his duties, Ichigo practically ran the division single handedly. It made Kisukue wonder if the 12th even needed a captain to begin with.
He mostly ignored the issue, figuring that if Ichigo needed his help, he would ask. But the thought remained in the back of his mind, like a persistent itch that refused to go unattended.
Finally, as Ichigo was dropping off another batch of paperwork to sign, Kisuke sprang the question on him.
“Isn’t there anything more I can do to help?” Kiskue asked.
Ichigo, who was already halfway out the door, paused midstep, “What do you mean, taichou?”
“I’m near certain that captains take on more responsibility than signing all of five forms a week,” Kisuke said, flipping idly through the papers Ichigo had handed him.
Ichigo leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, “I can assure you, Kyoraku does even less than you do.”
“Not to be rude,” Kisuke smiled uncertainly, “but that’s because he pushes it all onto his poor lieutenant. I’m not sure if I want to be like that.”
Ichigo suddenly barked a laugh. The sound startled Kisuke. It was probably the loudest he’d ever heard Ichigo get. He’d never heard him laugh before. Kisuke wanted to hear it again.
His lieutenant shook his head, “Y’know, I think that’s the closest I’ve ever heard you get to saying something bad about someone.”
“I was simply implying I don’t want to pile all the work onto you,” Kisuke quickly corrected.
The corners of Ichigo’s mouth twitched up, just barely, “Even if you were bad mouthing Kyoraku, you wouldn’t be wrong. All that lazy ass does is drink. How Ukitake puts up with him, I’ll never know.”
Ichigo approached his desk, “Listen. The 12th is a research division. We mostly focus on monitoring hollow actions and populations, yes, but we still do research. It’s mostly a hobby for members since we’re the only division who can provide the requisite materials to do so.”
“Not all officers delve into the research part of it, but many like to study souls, some are interested in reishi and reiatsu, and some of the weird ones like to dissect live hollows. Even Hikifune liked to research. As her lieutenant, I made sure she had the time to do so, because developing the artificial soul was much more important than filing the endless supply of paperwork all Captains are doomed to.”
“How did you know that I would be a scientist?” Kisuke asked, “I could have been a million different things.”
“Let’s just say I had a really good hunch. It was scientist or candy shop owner, I couldn’t tell which,” Ichgo smiled like he had just let Kisuke in on some private joke, “and, of course, there’s the fact that the first thing you did when given the time was remodel the lab.”
“Ah, I suppose that would be a giveaway.”
“I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than what I handle, Urahara,” Ichigo said, “Go figure out how to turn lead into gold or something.”
“What?” Kisuke raised an eyebrow, “I’ve got better things to do than to run my own division?”
Ichigo shrugged, “I’ve got it handled. Pursue your research.”
“It’s the principle of the matter, Ichigo-san.”
There was a minute twitch in Ichigo’s brow, “Ichigo. Just Ichigo.”
Kiskue pressed on, “I’m sure there’s something I can do to help.”
“Yeah, I can think of three,” Ichigo leaned forward and tapped Kisuke’s forehead, “One drop the honorific, two get back to your research, and three, stop doubting yourself.”
Kisuke pushed the hand away, “I feel I would be more comfortable in my position as captain if I actually handled any of my captaincy duties.”
“You’re handling most of them,” Ichigo pointed out, “All things that require a captain's approval go through you. I may be lax with protocol, but I’m not outright breaking the law.”
Kisuke regarded him with a cool eye, “Something tells me, Ichigo-san, that you have done just that many times.”
He huffed, “ever the observant one. Fine. You’re right. But I wouldn’t break the law regarding this. I’m not trying to undermine your authority. If I was, I would be more sneaky about it. I have plenty of examples to draw from.”
Kisuke blinked, “Was that a dig at me?”
“No, someone else.” Ichigo blew his fringe out of his face, “But, believe it or not, the whole onmitsukido thing isn’t such a secret. Even Hiyori knows, and she’s denser than Kenpachi.”
“Oh,” Kisuke suddenly wished he had something to hide behind. A fan, perhaps. “I wasn’t aware, you knew about that little… detail of my past. I’m sorry if that makes it difficult to work with me.” It would explain Ichigo’s relative distance from him. How they only ever exchanged a few words when he needed a captain’s approval on something. His reluctance to hand his division over.
Yet Ichigo just scowled again -something that was more of a default than an expression- and flicked kisuke between his eyes. “Oi. Stop with the self deprecating shit. I can hear you dumb ass thoughts from here.” he leveled Kisuke with a flat gaze, “Suprise suprise, not everyone around you is a saint.”
There was a dull look in his eye, something a little haunted, something tired, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. Everyone’s been forced into something they wished they didn’t have to do. Let’s not try to get into a measuring contest about how much blood we’ve got on our hands, yeah?”
Kisuke was taken aback, “Of course, I apologize, Ichigo-san.”
“Great,” Ichigo made his way for the door, “Then we’re done here.”
Frantic, Kisuke raised up his voice, “Wait!”
Ichigo stopped, “What?”
“We haven’t finished!” Kisuke said, shaking the flimsy excuse for a ‘stack’ of paper Ichigo had left, “You’re still doing too much!”
“I can handle it.” Ichigo dismissed.
Kisuke put his foot down, “I can’t. I will not force my lieutenant into managing an entire division by himself. Is that clear, Ichigo-san?”
Ichigo stared at him for a moment, before the barest hint of a smile graced his lips, “Hey, looks like you’ve got some fire in you yet.”
Kisuke held his ground, “Is that clear, Ichigo-san?”
Ichigo sat down at his desk, “Crystal.”
“Great-”
“Under two conditions,” Ichigo cut him off, “One, you actually start taking care of yourself. I’ve seen you lock yourself up in that lab for days on end, and I’m pretty damn sure you didn’t eat at all during that time.”
“I-”
“No. You don’t get an opinion on this.”
Kisuke frowned, “Fine. And the other condition.”
Ichigo shot him a grin, “you drop the honorific.”
Kisuke couldn’t help but gape, “I-” he cleared his throat, “Ichigo-san that would be highly inappropriate between colleagues.”
“Guess we don’t have a deal then.”
“It’s not fair to you-”
“Going once,” Ichigo said, holding a finger up.
“You’re from the Shiba Clan. Some degree of respect must be held-”
“Going twice,” another finger went up.
“You can’t just ignore protocol and courtesy-”
“Going thrice!” Ichigo drifted closer and closer to Kisuke, three fingers shoved in his face.
“Fine!” Kisuke slumped forward on his desk, “You win. But you have to hold up your end of the bargain. I expect us to at least split the workload evenly.”
“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else,” Ichigo said, “But the same applies to you.”
“Of course, Ichigo-san.”
Ichigo glared at him.
Kisuke sighed, “Of course, Ichigo.”
—
Kisuke didn’t mean to overhear it. Despite his past, he wasn’t always lurking around hallways trying to hear everything he could. Only most of the time. It was a rare instance where he wasn’t trying to sneak around.
In truth, Kisuke had broken his last graduated cylinder -mixing two volatile, highly reactive solutions tended to result in an explosion. Who knew!- and after much debate had dragged himself out of the lab to seek out Ichigo. He probably knew where to find a replacement.
Well, he found Ichigo. And he found someone else with him.
“This is unacceptable Ichigo!” a young, angry voice shouted
Suppressing his reiatsu as best he could, Kisuke tucked himself against the closed door and listened.
Ichigo’s voice cut in, “Hiyori please, just give him a chance. I understand you miss Hikifune, we all do, but don’t hate Urahara just for replacing her.”
“It’s not that! He’s an assassin! He’s murdered people!”
“He’s not an assassin anymore. Becoming captain let him leave the onmitsukido.”
“That does not excuse his actions!”
“No, it doesn’t, Hiyori, but he’s not the only one with a dirty past.”
“Being forced to kill and becoming an assassin are two different things!”
A sigh, “Hiyori. Don’t pretend that you know my entire story. For all you know I was an assassin.”
“Ridiculous. You might be a dimwit, bald-faced liar, but you’d never stoop to that low.”
“Just try to get along with him.” Ichigo pleaded.
“Never,” Hiyori growled, “I’ll never accept scum like him as my captain.’
“Hiyori-” Ichigo tried.
“I just don’t understand why he had to become a captain!” Hiyori exclaimed, “Literally anyone else could have.”
“There was no one else who could have become a captain. He was of the appropriate skill level.”
“There were plenty of people. Your cousin for one.”
“You know he would never leave the 13th.”
“Aizen-fukutaicho then.”
“I’m sure he’s very busy with other things.”
“ You could have! For god’s sake Ichigo! Haven’t you been a lieutenant long enough? Everyone knows you could become a captain if you really wanted to! Why didn’t you just take the position!”
Ichigo’s voice turned cold, “this discussion is over, Hiyori.”
“Don’t you walk away from me you bastard!”
“Hiyori I will say this once,” Ichigo whispered, danger lining his tone, “You are in no position to criticize me or my actions. I consider you a friend, but if you continue to challenge my authority and decisions I will not hesitate to have you discharged or transferred.”
“But-”
“No. You are allowed to dislike Urahara. You are allowed to hate him. You are allowed to hate me. You can even insult me and question my judgment on anything else, but you will not challenge me on this issue. Do you understand?”
There was a long pause, then, timidly, “yes. I understand, Ichigo. I still don’t like it though.”
Ichigo’s voice was softer now, “Thank you Hiyori. That’s all I ask.”
Before Ichigo could walk away, Hiyori’s voice shouted out again, “You understand why I hate him, Ichigo. What I don’t understand is hy are you so adamant about defending him.”
“Does it matter why? He’s our new captain. We should at least try to get along with him.”
“Humor me, Ichigo.”
A beat, “I believe that he’s a good man, Hiyori. Or at the very least, he has the capacity for good. That is all.” Kisuke could hear him place his hand on the door, as if he was about to open it.
Kisuke skittered away from his hiding place before either of them could sense him, replaying the conversation in his head. He didn’t know who Hiyori was. But judging from Ichigo’s responses she was someone important to the division. Someone he considered a friend. Someone who hated Kisuke with vigor.
And yet Ichigo had defended him. A total stranger, simply because he thought what? That he could be capable of doing good? Of being better than what he already was. That he could be more than the blood on his hands?
It was insanly stupid. Either Ichigo had no idea the scope of which Kisuke had operated in the onmitsukido, or he just didn’t care. It didn’t matter which, as it boiled down to one fact. Ichigo was an idiot.
A ridiculously good hearted idiot.
The idea that someone believed in him. Thought he was capable of being more than just his past. It did something to him. It made his chest feel fuzzy and stomach twist in a way he didn’t recognize.
He wasn’t sure he liked it.
He wasn’t sure he hated it either.
Ichigo was an idiot. No doubt. For some reason though, Kisuke couldn’t help but hope he never got wise and learned about what Kisuke actually was: a lost cause, a failure, a monster.
Kisuke thought he wouldn’t mind if Ichigo stayed unaware forever.
—
Now that Ichigo and Kisuke were actually working together, Kisuke learned new things about his lieutenant.
There was something strange about Ichigo. Everywhere he went, he slotted right into place and found friends with near everyone he met. Yet he could never seem to quite fit. Far beyond the obvious of his bright hair, high status and blatant disregard for rules, something was just off about him.
It felt as if he was just never in the right place. It was something in the way he always looked at his empty sides, like he expected someone to be there besides him. The way was always vigilant. How in a crowded room he cataloged every escape route, counted the number of people, and looked at them with something akin to fear in his eyes. How he always had a plan to run or fight. Not many people noticed it, but not many people were Kisuke.
To give credit where credit was due, Ichigo was remarkably adept at hiding it. Kisuke only caught those little details when Ichigo thought no one was looking.
Creepy as it sounded, Kisuke was always looking. There was something alluring about Ichigo. A pull that Kisuke couldn’t quite resist. For some unknown reason, his eyes always found their way to Ichigo’s face, his eyes, his scowl.
When Kisuke was young, during night in the Rukongai, he would watch moths fly into open lanterns. Anything to distract him from the burning hunger and numbing cold. He would watch as paper colored wings danced their way around the dazzling lights before plunging head first into the flames inside.
Kisuke had always wondered why the moths did that. Didn’t they know that they would die if they flew into the fire? Didn’t they notice how their friends burst into flames when they got too close to the beautiful flame? Were they simply stupid?
Now, Kisuke couldn’t quite blame the moths. How could they resist, he thought, when something as bright as that flame was before them? Regardless of rational thought, both Kisuke and the moths were drawn to light. He did care if he got burnt. If it just meant he could get closer to the burning flame he saw.
But Kisuke wasn’t the same as those moths. He looked at the flame and realized that he would only sully it with his ashes once he burned. So he stayed away. He didn’t chase the fire for fear of dimming it.
So Kisuke was simply content to watch and learn.
And learn he did.
Shiba Ichigo was a mystery, and Kisuke had always been attracted to mysteries.
He learned that Ichigo woke up before the sun rose, and patrolled the 12th division’s barracks. He walked around the compound’s walls, checking their defense and wards. He made his rounds two, three, sometimes, on particularly bad days, ten times.
For someone born into a generation who had only known peace in Seireitei, it was odd.
He noticed that Ichigo’s clothes were all frayed. His shihakusho was undoubtedly old, the edges rough and coming apart, and if you looked closely, you could see a litany of black stitching criss-crossing over the uniform like a spiderweb. It was as if he’d bought it years ago, and had never thought to replace it. Instead, Ichigo must’ve meticulously repaired the damage so that it was now a frankenstein version of a shihakusho.
Kisuke was reminded of the Ship of Theseus. The Uniform of Ichigo, if you will. He wondered if it could still be considered the original garment the man had bought, if he’d replaced the whole thing with new stitches and patchwork.
He’d noticed that Ichigo ate like a man on rations. He never took more than the bare minimum, even if he ate out. Eating was a task, a command to follow. He ate swiftly, not a moment wasted, set his bowl down, and got right back to work. On the off chance he was offered something more than what he required, he subtly pushed it to someone else.
There were other smaller things too. Ichigo had a constant tick of tapping the hilt of his Zanpaktou. Whether sitting through a long Captain’s meeting or talking to someone, he could always be seen tapping idly away, his index finger meeting the bottom of the hilt over and over again.
Or it was the way he hated when people dog-eared books and how he would spend hours flattening out the pages until the crease was gone.
Or how he didn’t like strawberries -despite his name- but felt bad about refusing the themed gifts and food that his friends had got him, and accepted them anyway.
Or the way he hid his small smiles by tilting his face out of view.
Or how his rare laugh sounded like sunshine and windchimes.
Or how his eyes looked more gold than brown most days.
Or sometimes it was just the way that Kisuke felt that Ichigo shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t anything overt. No. Rather it was just strange. Like something in his mind was screaming at him that Ichigo wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Like something ethereal that was too good to be among the rest of them.
“You’re staring.”
“Hmm?” Kisuke hummed, head resting in the palm of his hand. Ichigo was helping clean out the lab while Kisuke worked his way through approving some budget plans. It was something or other about research into quincy reishi manipulation. He couldn’t quite seem to pay attention to it.
Ichigo set down a box of old notes, and put his hands on his hips, “You could at least have the decency to look away after being called out.”
“Sorry, Ichigo-sa- Ichigo,” He corrected himself. The name by itself still sounded strange on his lips. Even when using an honorific, his brain still screamed at him to bow and say ‘Shiba-sama’ or ‘Shiba-dono’. He couldn’t quite get over the fact that he wasn’t doing either, but rather dropping the honorifics entirely.
Ichigo squinted at him, “Alright, out with it.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You’ve been staring at me all afternoon? What do you want to say?”
“Nothing. I’ve just been distracted.”
Ichigo looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Could you drop the niceties for once and just say what’s on your mind?”
“I couldn’t possibly-”
“Out with it, Urahara.”
He sighed, “You don’t seem that powerful to me.” he said. Ichigo’s signature was faint and weak, sometimes hard to sense with how small it felt. He’d been snuck up on a few times. To reiterate, Urahara Kisuke had been snuck up on.
“Wow,” Ichigo said, actually taken aback, “When I said to be blunt you took it to heart.”
“I apologize.”
“And you ruined it,” Ichigo looked disappointed, “Just when I finally got you to speak your mind. Back to your shell of politeness.”
Ichigo looked at the ceiling, “Hmm. Now how to answer your question.” he looked back down at Kisuke, “I’m sure you’re familiar with masking your reiatsu. Or at the least holding it back.”
“Of course,” Kisuke, “But I can hardly feel anything from you.” Of course a few people could almost completely mask their presence, Kisuke was a prime example. But it was easier the less reiatsu one had. Often, it felt like Ichigo was the level of a small Rukongai child.
“Maybe I am just weak,” Ichigo said, gathering some dirty vials from a desk.
Kisuke’s eyes flicked across Ichigo’s form. The confidence, grace, the way each movement carried a degree of power to it. How he always seemed ready to fight, “I sincerely doubt that, Ichigo.”
“I wonder why,” Ichigo said, putting the vials into a box carefully.
“You’ve been recommended to captaincy multiple times.”
Ichigo groaned, adding to the box the pile they were moving out “Forgot about that. Hopefully with the 12th having a captain now they’ll finally shut up about it.”
“They don’t recommend just anyone for captaincy.”
Ichigo unloaded a large scale reiatsu-meter, “You’d be surprised at the people they’ve given the position to in the past,” he placed the meter on a lab table, “Is here good?”
“Perfect, thank you.” Kisuke said, running through the list of current and past captains, trying to find someone Ichigo would have found as incompotent. It was hard to find one.
“Why did you never accept the promotion?” Kisuke asked.
Ichigo paused for a second, “I guess I just felt like it.”
“Truthfully, please.”
“I wasn’t ready for the position.”
“Many captains disagree. Myself included. You basically managed this entire division by yourself before I was appointed.”
Ichigo’s finger tapped quickly along the hilt of his sword, “Maybe I just like being a lieutenant.”
“Do you mean taking on all the work of a captain with none of the benefits?”
“I don’t need the money,” Ichigo said, “I don’t spend much, and I’m from the Shiba clan. I’m pretty set.”
“Then what about the renown? The attention and respect?”
Ichigo shrugged, “I never cared much for those things.”
“There has to be some reason.”
“I’m sure there is,” Ichigo grabbed a box off Kisuke’s table, “but where would be the fun in just telling you?”
Before Kisuke could get another word in, Ichigo sauntered off, taking his nonsensical answers with him, and leaving Kisuke with even more questions about his lieutenant than before.
—
Ichigo was training a new recruit in the 12th’s courtyard. The two of them were going through some more advanced katas, Ichigo sliding through the motions easily, while the girl strugged to follow along. Kisuke couldn’t quite remember her name, which he supposed was a failure on his part as a captain. Though, he wasn’t the one in control of recruitment. Ichigo handled that on his own.
The girl was young, even for Shinigami standards, and was a graduate fresh from the academy. The 12th had been the only division who had accepted her, in regards to her abysmally low reiatsu and poor grades in nearly every class. But she’d still managed to graduate, so Kisuke supposed it wasn’t an entirely lost cause.
Ichigo seemed to agree, though he was less reserved about his criticism, “No, you’re doing it wrong again,” he snapped, dropping his stance.
She startled, stumbling back “s-sorry, Shiba-fukutaicho!”
Kisuke watched the interaction from the porch. He leaned up against a pillar, taking the moment to observe the two of them. Though, his eyes were mostly on Ichigo.
The girl looked terrified at the point black criticism, like she didn’t know what to do when someone was being direct with her. However she stood strong mustering up the courage to ask what she was doing wrong.
Ichigo rolled his eyes, getting behind her and placing her into the correct position, “You’re not breathing right,” he explained, guiding her to the next move, “breath is the soul of the body. Without the breath, you can’t fight at all.”
She inhaled shakily and continued. Ichigo scowled, “No. You keep viewing it as a separate motion. You have to be able to breathe in the motion, use the breath to support the action, not tag it on haphazardly or forget to do it at all.”
She paused, and Ichigo whacked her on the head, “Stop hesitating. Dying in a battle because you forgot to breathe is one thing, dying because you weren’t committing fully to your actions is worse. At least in the first one you can fuck up with confidince.”
“Sorry!”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, moving her into the next pose, “Just fix it.”
He let go of her, and she moved to the next form by herself.
“Yeah, now you’ve got it,” he said, a faint smile gracing his features, “You have to breathe through it.”
She returned his smile, and together they finished the kata.
—
“I don’t see why you bother training her,” Kisuke said that evening, as they worked together over dinner.
“Yasu?” Ichigo asked, food half way up to his mouth.
Given name, no honorific, Kisuke noted with distaste. He wasn’t sure why he was bothered by that. He knew that Ichigo didn’t use formalities as a general rule, and called most people by their first name. Everyone, it seemed, but Kisuke himself. He got Urahara or Urahara-taichou instead. He supposed he should have been impressed by Ichigo’s modicum of respect for formal etiquette, but for some reason it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Yes, her,” Kisuke said, “She’s most likely going to die on her first expedition. Why even accept her into the division? She barely graduated.”
“She still did, though,” Ichigo pointed out, “Which must count for something.”
Kisuke gave him a look.
“Okay maybe not. Academy graduates are pretty useless,” he acquiesced.
“Then why accept her.”
Ichigo set down his chopsticks, leaning back. He tapped the hilt of his sword, “I didn’t initially.”
His fingers tapped faster and faster, something akin to pride in his eyes, “But she planted herself outside the division. I guess she figured she had the best chance here. The 12th is known for taking in most anyone. I told her to get lost. Go work for some noble clan and lead a respectable life outside the Gotei 13.”
He huffed, “She was terrified. But she looked me dead in the eye and said no. Kid wouldn’t let up. Stayed at the 12th’s gate day in day out. I couldn’t leave without being bombarded by her demanding I accept her.”
“And you let her annoy you into accepting her?”
“No,” Ichigo said, “I applaud her for having the courage to persevere. I scared the life out of her, but she still stayed at that gate. That persistence isn’t something you find in any old academy graduate. Most flee the second things go south.”
“Perseverance isn’t going to guarantee she survives.”
“You’re right,” Ichigo admitted, “She might die immediately, and all that work would be for nothing. But, if she doesn’t die, if she keeps at it, I think she’ll actually turn into something worthwhile.”
“Someone like that isn’t going to quit,” Ichigo said, “Even if no division accepted her, I have the feeling she’d just go rogue. Probably die, but die fighting. At least I could give her a chance to survive.”
“How do you know she wouldn’t just give up?”
Ichigo looked at him, “Let’s just say I’m very familiar with her type of resolve.”
—
Ichigo burst into his lab, determination in his eyes.
Kisuke didn’t startle at the abrupt entrance, simply setting down his beaker of solution and turning to his lieutenant, “Ichigo, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“You’ve been down here for four days,” Ichigo crossed his arms, “Come on, we’re going out.”
“I’m in the middle of important research,” Kisuke said.
“You’re always in the middle of important research,” Ichigo argued, looking over Kisuke’s shoulder, “And that looks like it’s about to end your research early anyway.”
Kisuke whipped around. The beaker was bubbling over, the liquid corroding the lab table beneath it, and the very beaker itself beginning to glow, both from reishi oversaturating it and the fact it was melting from the heat the solution had generated.
He cursed, pulling a lever that doused the entire lab table with an extinguishing agent.
He sighed. Another experiment failed. He turned back to Ichigo, resigned to his fate, “what did you have in mind?”
Thirty minutes later he got his answer. When Ichigo had suggested he get out of his lab he had expected to be met with work, a captains meeting, maybe get some fresh air on a stroll or visit the other divisions, or at least do something that was still in seireitei.
Instead, Ichigo had instructed him to ditch the captain haori and grab something more comfortable. Thirty minutes later, he was standing in front of a small ramen stall in the 46th district in the Rukongai.
“Are you coming or not?” Ichigo asked, ducking into the shop.
Kisuke shrugged off his shock and followed him.
The stall had about a dozen seats, and was well lit with lanterns and relatively clean. It was cramped, despite only having a few other patrons.
“Yo, Ichigo!” a voice called out. Kisuke looked up to find the shop’s owner -an older, bald man- smiling at Ichigo, “Glad to see you back! The usual, I assume?”
Ichigo grinned, “You know me too well, Jii-san. Get something for my friend. Your best.”
The owner’s eyes darted over to Kisuke for a moment, “He one of yer shinigami friends?”
Ichigo took a seat, “Yeah.”
The shop owner looked him up and down, “He sure is a quiet one. That's for sure.”
Kisuke stepped forward to introduce himself, “Urahara Kisuke, the 12th division’s capt-” Ichigo cut him off with a pointed glare. Kisuke snapped his mouth shut.
“He’s also from the 12th,” Ichigo provided, “He joined a couple months back. And you might think he’s quiet now, but let me tell you, he’s real lively over a few bottles of sake.”
“If you say so,” The shop owner said, “I’ll get your food out quick. Only the best for my favorite customer.” He disappeared back into the kitchen.
Kisuke took a seat next to Ichigo, “What was that about?” he asked in a hushed tone.
Ichigo whispered back, “They don’t trust shinigami much around here. Much less those in positions of authority. Took me years to build up credit. I’m not going to destroy it just because I brought a captain here.”
“Then why bring me along at all?”
Ichigo smiled, a beautiful thing in the lamplight, “Why, the food of course.”
“You come here often, then?”
“I started visiting the rukongai a long time ago, right around my promotion to lieutenant,” Ichigo explained, “They don’t get much attention from the Gotei. Thought I’d try to make up the difference. I help with hollow infestations, in return,” he gestured to the stall proudly, “free food.”
“What you’re saying is that you’ve been taking on solo missions without going through any of the proper channels?” Kisuke said, somewhere between horror at the dismissal of protocol and surprise that Ichigo wasn’t dead, “what if something went wrong and you needed backup? We would have no way of knowing if your life was in danger.”
Ichigo brushed it off, “It’s worked well for me so far. I’m not dead yet.”
“Yet,” Kisuke stressed, something -he distantly recognized it as worry- pooling in his gut. He leveled Ichigo with a serious look, “you are to tell me if you go out on one of these little ‘excursions’ again.”
“Of course,” Ichigo said, noncommittal.
“Ichigo.”
Ichigo glanced at him, and seemed to consider it. “Alright,” he said, “if it makes you worry less.”
Two bowls of ramen were set down in front of them, marking the end of the conversation. The shop owner smiled brightly, “There you two go. Enjoy!”
“Thanks, Jii-san,” Ichigo said, digging in.
The shop owner turned to Kisuke, “So, what’s it like working in the 12th. I’m sure it must be something else working with Ichigo here. He’s pretty amazing I’d bet. Pretty, well pretty too, isn’t he?”
Ichigo choked on his food.
Kisuke had a similar reaction, too shocked to speak.
“What?” The old man laughed good naturedly, “I’m just stating the facts. I swear, ya could contend with that Kaien fellow. If he wasn’t married already, I’m sure half of soul society would be fighting over his hand.”
Ichigo sputtered.
The owner continued on unabashed, “All those captains and lieutenants seem to get better looking every century. It’s ridiculous, they’re leaving us regular folk in the dust. Which is why I’m surprised little strawberry here hasn’t made it up the ranks yet. Near a hundred years and he’s still a normal soldier. Ichigo’s got the skill and looks. He must be doing something wrong”
“I’m a seated officer now,” Ichigo said, which, well, wasn’t a lie.
“Oh everybody’s a seated officer,” the shop owner said, “you shoulda been a captain by now. What is the 12th doing, promoting some rando over you, I wonder. When are they gonna grow wise?”
“When indeed,” Kisuke said, glancing over at Ichigo.
Ichigo groaned, “Don’t even get me started. The captain is perfectly fine.”
“But he ain’t you,” the shop owner said stubbornly, turning to Kisuke, “Some average joe isn’t going to be able to measure up to him, I know it.”
Kisuke laughed quietly, “No, I doubt the new captain could. The lieutenant sure can though.”
Ichigo glared at him.
The old man seemed to consider that, “True, I’ve heard some good things about him. They say he’s quite the looker too. My daughter won’t stop obsessing over him. She won’t even come down to the shop to help anymore, too busy studying for the academy entrance exams so she can join the 12th.”
“I’m sure she won’t be disappointed,” Kisuke said, “he sure is something.”
Ichigo decided to retaliate, “Oh but the new captain did something too. I hear he’s a genius. He keeps locking himself up in his lab though, like an idiot.”
“And the lieutenant keeps taking on too much work.” Kisuke shot back
“But the captain keeps thinking he doesn’t deserve the position, even when it suits him very well.”
“The position the lieutenant could have easily filled.”
“Aye,” The owner said, “You’ve sure got strong opinions on this.”
Ichigo brightened, and Kisuke was immediately afraid. Ichigo smiled sweetly, turning to the shop owner, “You know. I think the trend with the captains has continued. The new captain is drop dead gorgeous. Pity he won’t stop rubbing it in our normal looking faces.”
Kisuke’s stomach did some weird flips at Ichigo calling him gorgeous, even as a joke. Luckily his mind took over when his heart stalled. Oh, so that’s how this is going to go then, he thought, grinning, game on, Ichigo.
“But those rumors about the lieutenant are true. In fact, they don’t do him justice. He’s got the face of an angel.” Kisuke said, sighing like a love sick girl.
Ichigo blushed. Kisuke had never seen anything more lovely.
His lieutenant recovered quickly though, “Nothing compared to the captain though. I bet god shaped him himself.”
“Ah but the lieutenant is stunning-”
“And the captain’s beautiful-”
“-simply divine-”
“-breath taking-”
“-handsome-”
“-hot-”
“-sexy-”
“Alright!” the shop owner shouted, “I get it, you two have crushes.” He scratched the back of his head, muttering “Damn, and here I thought Ichigo had finally managed to score a date,” though it was too quiet for Kisuke to hear. Not, however, too quiet for Ichigo to.
Ichigo bristled, cheeks bright red. The color clashed with his orange hair, and Kisuke couldn’t help but be reminded of a ripe tomato.
Kisuke, though not knowing what caused it, laughed at the reaction, tears in his eyes.
He might actually learn to enjoy this whole captain thing, he thought, if it only meant he could have more moments like these.
Ichigo swatted at him, embarrassed, which only made Kisuke laugh harder.
Yes, he didn’t think he would mind being captain at all.