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cheshiresense · 3 months ago

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Ok so I've actually gotten several asks about what Starrk's relationship with Unohana/the Fourth is/was like, but I don't have time atm to get into it, but I also want to toss out some of my headcanons about it because I've thought about it a lot, so I'll just list out a few headcanons in no particular order and get back to those asks later.

- First of all, Unohana is actually super protective of Starrk, but in a way that just confuses and/or scares people. Like she’s the sort to say dead serious no joke “my lieutenant is a gentle soul, you will answer to me if you upset him” while Starrk’s murdering his way across a battlefield and his reiatsu is eating a bunch of people for lunch 😂😂

- Unohana never thought she even had any protective instincts but Starrk just brings it out in her. At her age, with her experience, she can better sense just how old he actually is, just as she can sense-smell the amount of blood on him, so she knows he's lived a long time and killed a lot of people. But she can also tell he's not like her, he doesn't enjoy that sort of thing—when he kills, it's probably either because he has no choice or because he does it out of a sense of duty to whatever it is he believes in enough to fight for. Case in point, literally no one as powerful as she knows Starrk to be would choose to enter the Fourth with an honest interest in learning even more about healing than he already does. He's patient with even the weakest unseated Shinigami, and Unohana no longer has to personally come running every time the Eleventh decides to stop by to harass her officers because Starrk is there to stonewall them at the gates. But at the same time, the grief and loneliness she can sense in his reiatsu makes her want to shed blood because it never goes away. He can coax the shyest officers out of their shells with that no-pressure-calm he's constantly radiating, and for all that he'd prefer a nap over conversation any day of the week, he's also indulgent with members of his own squad when they ask him questions about a lecture or for a spar when he has time. He's reliable and steady and everything the Fourth needs him to be, with a reserved personality and a long-suffering air about him but careful hands and an even more careful mind in everything he does. And yet, hidden beneath all that, Unohana has never met anyone so constantly, miserably tired all the time. So yes, in her opinion, Starrk is a gentle, even fragile soul. She doesn't know - yet - what broke him so badly, but he's also hers now—she chose him, and he chose her, and she doesn't think she's imagining the way the Fourth feels stronger and stabler with his presence, with the easy way he shoulders the weight of a division right alongside her, with how their subordinates walk around with more confidence too in response to having two monsters watching over them now. For his competence as her second-in-command alone, she would've shielded him from anyone who upset him. But for the way he follows her around, genuinely eager to learn; for the way he sits with the younger officers and answers their questions and shows them new Kidou spells and treats them to snacks and protects them on missions; for the way he can stare down her Bankai without flinching and only grumble afterwards about how he deserves a week of sleep for such a hard spar but never even bat an eye when she reaches out to heal him with the very hands that had done their level best to rip him apart for several hours only minutes earlier; for the way he can give back just as good as he gets and allows her the chance to let herself off her own self-made leash every few weeks without having to hold back—for all of that and more, she would challenge anyone who dares try and force him to draw his blade against his will or break him any further than he already has been.

- I headcanon that for students who want to enter the Fourth, they have to take a separate written exam before they graduate. Results aren't great because there isn't actually much of a medical track at the Academy, plus it's generally considered uncool to end up at the Fourth, so there aren't many who would even take the exam, and of those who do, most can't even finish the entire thing, and minimum pass percentage is probably something like 50% lmao. At this point, it's less an exam and more an assessment of where the student is at so the Fourth's seated officers can sort the newcomers more easily when they have to start them on the basics. Then along comes Starrk who not only finishes the entire exam but also gets everything right, and it catches Unohana's attention enough to get her to make the trip to the Academy to speak to Starrk herself just to find out more, and the more she finds out, the more she thinks she'll finally be able to name a lieutenant with the kind of standards she's always wanted to be able to measure them by. At the end of the impromptu interview, she asks one more question—she asks him if he'd be willing to take one more test and become her official student. The lieutenant seat is his either way, but she's never had a personal student before. She won't be teaching him from scratch, which is a shame—someone with potential and a learning curve like Starrk's should've been scooped up long ago. But there's also more than just medical Kidou and surgical procedures she can pass on to him, and he may be a gentle soul, but he's a gentle soul with something he fiercely wants to protect, and that means there are other things she can teach him. He says yes, and that day, on the day they meet for the first time in any timeline, in a training room deep beneath the Academy, all seals activated for both privacy and containment, and even then they'd barely held—Unohana unseals her Bankai for the first time in centuries, and Starrk weathers every blow with the unyielding bedrock found beneath mountains and deserts and canyons and oceans, timeworn but timeless and enduring all the same. In the aftermath, both of them bleeding from multiple wounds with a good chunk of their reiatsu depleted, she thinks, yes, this one will be mine. He is strong enough to stand with me, tempered enough to be unafraid of me, old enough to have experienced the worst the world can offer, and wise enough to accept and bear it. And yet he remains... soft, at heart. Kind, in a way I do not fully understand, but it is precious nonetheless. It is something that should be protected. He is someone I can protect, so he will be mine.

- She'd prob also be like "let's get this signed and sealed before the old coot catches wind of another dual-wielding Shinigami and thinks he has first dibs just because he got the other two" 😂

- She would 1000% give Shunsui a shovel talk. It's probably the most terrifying shovel talk anyone has ever received in living memory ganbaa shunsui be brave you can do it.

- As for Starrk, he adores the fuck out of Unohana. But he’s also constantly baffled by how she kind of mothers him sometimes, in really off-putting ways (to others) but he doesn't realize that. Like the first time he goes out on a not-a-date with Shunsui, Unohana will be like "I wrote a dissertation called 101 Ways to Sterilize a Man, please read it over, I require urgent feedback" all while staring gloomy-eyed straight at a sweating Shunsui from behind Starrk's back because she'd watched this brat grow up, so she knows his skirt-chasing tendencies better than most, knows the way he likes beautiful people, likes flirting with them and charming them, likes the novelty of a new relationship and the thrill of the chase, and so she also knows the way it always ends with broken hearts but hardly ever his own. At most, he'll pout for a few days or a few weeks and mope and whine to Ukitake, and then he'll move on. He's always earnest and genuine in the moment, treats his lovers with all the respect and affection in the world when they're together, but he bores easily, and for all that he plays a good game of being open and friendly and approachable, Unohana has rarely met anyone more guarded when it comes to matters of the heart than Kyouraku Shunsui. He'd grown out of genuinely pursuing people in more recent decades, goes through the motions but no longer seems very interested in romance or even short dalliances, mostly only flirts these days with his long-time female acquaintances who all know better, but it would be easy for him to fall back into old habits. If he dares to be as careless with Starrk's heart as he'd been with previous lovers, Unohana won't stop until the Eighth Division will require a new captain.

- Starrk totally calls Unohana Shishou-san eventually. He has a thing for nicknames. Shunsui is of course Taichou-san. Shiina is Sensei-san. Unohana is Shishou-san. One person per category. It's an odd quirk of his.

#bleach #coyote starrk #unohana retsu #shunstarrk #ichigo & starrk time travel verse #myscrap

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catathyst · 4 years ago

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Fun fact, way before Future even ended, one of myscrapped Au’s partners in crime, Steven does actually heal the gems the say way he healed jasper

AU where Steven heals the gems in the cluster.

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cheshiresense · 4 months ago

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Hi Cross! I'm so happy you're writing for ShunStarrk, it's one of my favrite ships and Starrk is one of favorite characters and I love how you write them. I also couldn't help thinking about wat would happen if you sent Starrk bac with Ichigo in Swinging Pendulum (or just TBTP). You've done Kisuke and Aizen so I was curious how it would go with Starrk. I'd love to see any ideas you might have for it!

lol my first thought when I saw this was a mental image of Ichigo throwing Starrk at Shunsui and being like “go seduce us an ally!” 😂😂😂

But okay, more seriously, I have a few thoughts on it so I guess I'll just ramble a bit? Well first of all, in an AU like SP/TBTP, I would employ one of my handy dandy Bleach headcanons where the next step up from Arrancar is a fully restored soul, so to speak. We know Hollows are generally souls that Shinigami failed to purify and save in time, but I like to think that as Hollows, after hitting rock bottom, if they have the power and the strength of will and the ability to survive long enough to work all the way back up on their own, they can actually fix themselves.

(I actually also headcanon that becoming “perfect artificial Arrancar” via Aizen and his Hougyoku actually stagnates them, so they’re given a power boost and Shinigami-like powers, but they’ve basically peaked and will never again be able to grow much because there is no growth from perfection, which also explains why the Visored’s power levels have always felt a cut below the other captains and lieutenants’ and even after a hundred years they could never manage much with their Hollow abilities, nor did they make any significant improvements or contributions between WW and TYBW, because the Hougyoku pushes you to the pinnacle of your potential at that point in your life, but by doing so, it also cuts off any possibility of further growth, and so over time you might even deteriorate. And all of that ties neatly back into one of Bleach’s major themes of perfection/stagnancy vs. growth/development. But I digress, that isn’t overly important here.)

My point is, the fuckery in the bad end future where Ichigo and Starrk are from lasted long enough and resulted in a terrible enough war that Starrk finally allowed himself that last step of growth and became a whole - if scarred - soul again, so he no longer has a Hollow hole or that collar of teeth, and he has a proper Zanpakutou merged with his Hollow abilities. So like he’s the first and only Hollow ever who managed to rebuild his own soul and is super OP as a result. Like if Aizen’s the upper limit of a Shinigami, and Yhwach is the upper limit of a Quincy, then Starrk would be the upper limit of a Hollow, which the Soul King took into account and was like yay finally the best of a species that isn’t out to ball the universe for once, he’s hella depressed and lonely and grieving but he’s just gonna have to deal cuz the world isn’t going to save itself and my god-slaying mad-scientist-experiment-child of a descendant needs all the help he can get to pull his saviour schtick off again.

All of which is just to say Starrk can blend in much better in Soul Society and yes I took the long-ass way around just to establish this single plot point lmao.

Secondly, as implied above, I’d prob change the final big bad to the Quincy because 1) it’s fresher in my mind and also 2) it gives me more established material to work with. Also 3) we’ll pretend Yhwach wasn’t senile and so didn’t kill off half his own army, because lbr his Auswahlen won half the war for the Shinigami in canon. And this way we get the tragic bad end we need to kick off an SP AU.

And thirdly, just to tie up that loose end, you can’t have two of the same souls in one timeline, so past!Starrk&Lilynette wink out of existence the moment the Soul King drops future!Starrk in TBTP because I’m heartless like that and the more angst the merrier.

Also fourthly, the thing about sending Starrk back with Ichigo is that the dynamic is just so completely different than if it were Kisuke or Aizen or Shinji or any of Ichigo's friends. Like I guess in other fics you usually see Starrk as one of Ichigo's ppl, lured over to the good side because of Ichigo's whole power of friendship, friends and family must be protected thing, and I enjoy reading those of course, but writing-wise, I can't really get behind it because for me, their relationship would come out sth like part-comrade, part-mentor/student because someone's gotta teach Ichigo how to Hollow and I honestly don't rly count the Visored training as such because what they did was basically the equivalent of a temporary patchjob/lesson on how to unhealthily repress a part of yourself instead of actually dealing with it, all so it won't get in the way of fighting Aizen, so Ichigo never actually gets around to harnessing that side of him as opposed to everything he does with his Shinigami and Quincy sides, and lastly part-wow-this-kid-is-a-hundred-years-away-from-becoming-another-Aizen-if-the-Shinigami-keep-fucking-up-with-him whenever Starrk looks at Ichigo, because if anyone aside from Ichigo understood what made Aizen into the would-be-god he became, it would be Starrk, and there's no way he wouldn't be able to see the exact same potential in Ichigo.

And yeah, technically Kisuke was a mentor too, same with Shinji and a few others, but with their history, it's hard to really see that role as one of their main ones, esp since all of them end up following Ichigo's lead. If you want to get poetic about it, he's the sun they're drawn to and revolve around and devote themselves to. That's completely not the case with Starrk. If anyone is Starrk's sun, it's Shunsui. Plus Starrk's just a lot older than most of them so he can't just be crammed into the peer/partner/friend willing to burn SS down for Ichigo and follow him to the ends of the world box. It would be the same if it was Shunsui or Ukitake sent back. But that's fun to play with too, something new, and I imagine Starrk's got a soft spot for kids, and this one was also taught by Shunsui (a la SP canon), and Starrk taught Ichigo as well, so it's not like they don't get along or that Starrk wouldn't absolutely throw down with someone trying to take another chunk out of Ichigo. It's just that this is a dynamic where for once, Ichigo isn't the absolute top priority and object of fascination/love/devotion for the one sent back in time with him. For Starrk, that position's already taken by a certain Shinigami captain.

And wow okay we're not even into the actual AU and I already rambled too much, I guess I'll end this with the two of them entering the Academy after wandering in from the wilds of Rukongai? In SP, I had Ichigo being found by the Shibas and sort of faking amnesia, but I feel like it's simpler here to go with the two of them finding their way to the Seireitei on their own, and then the Shibas hear of someone with a face that could pass for Kaien's twin, so ofc Kaien's immediately like HELLO LONG-LOST FAM and rolling out the welcome mat.

Obviously Ichigo's like fuck that this is way too soon after losing all my actual friends and family, but Shibas don't know how to take no for an answer (honestly you're like that too Ichigo), so there's a good few weeks where Kaien haunts the Academy like an enthusiastic ghost two steps left of empty nest syndrome or something, and Ichigo spends an equal amount of time ignoring him in favour of tearing through the Academy curriculum like a man on a mission, which he technically is. He doesn't like the attention, but he's also never had much patience for subtlety, and he's used to ignoring other ppl's opinions of him anyway, so by the end of the month, everybody knows him as the newest Shiba prodigy slated to graduate in a year, and Ichigo doesn't care so long as he gets what he wants.

Meanwhile, not many people notice the man who'd come to the city with Ichigo and applied to the Academy at the same time. Unlike Ichigo, Starrk is very good at fading into the background, and it's doubly easy when you put him next to someone whose very existence is as bright and loud as Ichigo's, with the kind of charisma that attracts ppl to him even when he doesn't do anything.

That suits Starrk just fine. He's exhausted and heartsore and still not entirely sure why he'd said yes when Mimihagi had waylaid him when he'd been on the brink of death and asked him to accompany Ichigo back in time to save the world. He's not a hero, not anyone important or special, and also not particularly interested in living in a world without Kyouraku Shunsui - his Shunsui - in it. But Shunsui had also died for the world, for the Soul Society he'd devoted his life to protecting, died to buy time for others to live just a little bit longer, and it had seemed a mockery of one of the things Shunsui had held so dear if Starrk didn't even try to protect it too when the option was laid out in front of him. Besides, it had also seemed unfair to leave it all to Ichigo, to dump the literal weight of the universe on the kid's shoulders once again, and this time he wouldn't even have any help if Starrk didn't go because everyone else was dead or - Starrk assumes - not as strong as him. Once again, his strength is more a curse than anything else. So he supposes he does know why he'd agreed - a moment of insanity, a moment of weakness - and now here he is stuck in an era he'd certainly lived through before but in a location he'd only ever seen in the midst of war.

Peacetime at least affords him time to rest, although he's not sure how he likes that either. Fighting and killing at least means he has little time for anything else, like sleep plagued with nightmares, but it's that or staring into empty space and being plagued with memories instead, and that's not really any better. Still, he deals and doesn't let Ichigo catch on to the fact that his head's not in a great place because the kid doesn't need anymore on his plate. It's not like Ichigo's getting much sleep either anyway if the bags under his eyes are anything to go by. Besides, Starrk's used to nightmares and bad memories. He has a thousand years' worth under his belt, so it's nothing new, even if the content is.

The Academy is something of a novelty, if only because he's never gone to school before. So unlike Ichigo, he doesn't mind going to lectures instead of immediately testing out of most classes and jumping straight to the sixth-year curriculum and whatever extra credit work that Zanjutsu department head who likes stalking Ichigo gives him. Starrk had checked and discovered that so long as he applies for it before the deadline, he can take the graduation exams at the end of the year, and so long as he passes, the school doesn't much care what classes make it onto his academic transcript. There's even been clan kids who just stay at home with an army of private tutors before directly taking the exams and entering the Gotei that way.

But like Ichigo, there's also not much the Academy teaches that he doesn't excel at. Combat-wise, there are already very few people in all the known worlds who can best him, let alone anyone in this school. His worst subject is history, because he knows almost nothing of Soul Society aside from major events he'd heard of in passing and anything related to Quincy, but when everything else is easy, that just means he can spend all his time memorizing the readings he's assigned.

Aside from that, he goes to class and sleeps in class, he skips class and sleeps then too, he spars whoever the teacher wants him to but never volunteers otherwise, and he's very careful to keep his reiatsu levels under wraps. He looks at his classmates in each class and picks out the middling to above average students and copies their progress, and he doesn't bother doing more.

"Isn't it boring?" Ichigo asks him once when he's once again hiding from his cousin in Starrk's room. Starrk shrugs from his bed and doesn't tell him that one doesn't know boredom until they've spent a thousand years alone in a barren desert. Anything else is a step up. Even if all the theory in his lectures are things he's already read about because Shunsui had let him have free reign in the private library back home, hearing it again never hurts. "It's a pretty good sleep aid," Starrk says instead, just to hear the amused snort it coaxes from Ichigo.

It is of course impossible to fool everyone, and Starrk hadn't been aiming for that anyway. Ichigo also doesn't spend time with anybody else, so inevitably, two months into their Academy life, one Koyonagi Senzou turns his attention on the man who probably spends more time sleeping than anyone else in the Seireitei.

"All your assignments fulfill the minimum requirements," Koyonagi says, smiling from behind his desk after summoning Starrk to his office. "Never more, never less, perfect across the board even if they all come back with a note suggesting you could try earning some bonus points. All your tests are returned with a score of 75-80%. Never more, never less, but the points that get docked off are always for questions you've left blank. And every single week, you win exactly half your total spars. Never more, never less. Tell me, Coyote-san, do you think yourself more or less subtle than Ichi-chan?" Starrk blinks once, slowly, and stares back without the energy to muster much more than a noncommittal grunt. Koyonagi reminds him a little of Aizen and a lot of Ichimaru, and this kind of person, Starrk knows, wants for nothing so much as they do a reaction. "Wasn't trying to be subtle," Starrk eventually says when it becomes clear that Koyonagi is perfectly willing to wait him out for as long as it takes, and Starrk doesn't care enough about power plays to try and win this one, not when he hasn't even been offered a chair to sit in. "I've been passing everything, so it's fine, right?" Koyonagi doesn't stop smiling, but it becomes just the slightest bit fixed the way Ichimaru's had when he'd not been entirely pleased with his prey's response. Even Starrk probably would've missed it if Ichimaru hadn't often looked like that around Starrk. As expected, the teacher prods a few more times, a little more cutting each round, and Starrk in turn replies with the same dull apathy that comes so very easily to him. "Well-played," Koyonagi finally says, and he just looks bored now. "Although I honestly can't fathom what Ichigo sees in someone so lacking in... ambition." He pauses like he wants Starrk to hear the insult underneath, like he wants Starrk to take offense, but Starrk's barely paying attention as it is, and there was no question anyway, which means Starrk isn't expected to answer, so he doesn't. Koyonagi sighs like he's never met a bigger disappointment. "Never mind, you're dismissed." His eyes glitter with something like mockery. "Your new schedule will be sent to you by tonight. You'll be moved up to the sixth year classes. Do keep up the good work, won't you?" Starrk raises an eyebrow, then sighs right back. Well, whether it's first year or sixth year, it's all the same to him. He's not the one who took the initiative to present himself as a genius, and students are moved in and out of classes for more reasons than just skipping grades. And with Ichigo around, no one will look twice at him. He dips his head in acknowledgement and wonders why people like this can't just say what they want to begin with. This had clearly been the point from the very beginning and could've been over and done with in two minutes, but this meeting's dragged on for half an hour. What a troublesome guy. He heads for the door. The weather is nice today. Maybe he'll even be able to take an uninterrupted nap for once.

On the Shiba front, something's got to give, and unfortunately for Ichigo, he doesn't have experience warding off family unwilling to leave him alone.

"I came here with a friend!" Ichigo snaps, his last-ditch attempt to chase Kaien away. "He's practically family! I'm not leaving him behind!" He'd heard all about the bullshit that was Rukia's adoption into the Kuchiki Clan, thank you. Kaien blinks at him, mystified. "What are you talking about? We just want to add you to the family registry and probably throw you a party while we're at it. You don't have to leave your friend anywhere. Hell, bring him back with you. If he's your family, he's our family, and we have plenty of space!" At this point, Kaien looks like he's warming up to the idea. "That's right, you mentioned you've known him for a while, right? Uh, what's his name again, Coyote Starrk? If he's been watching your back out in Rukongai, I should thank him properly. Is that why you've been resisting all this time? Did you think we'd make you cut ties with him or something? We're not like the other stuffy clans, Ichigo! Any friend of yours is welcome! We'd love to meet him! Hey, how's he doing in his classes? Does he need a sponsor? It doesn't matter, a clan sponsor can only be a good thing. Don't worry, Ichigo, we'll take good care of him!" Ichigo has a moment to picture the sheer amount of chaotic energy that even he can already tell is a common factor amongst the Shiba Clan, meeting Starrk, whose favourite hobbies include napping, creating new Kidou seals, and listening to Kyouraku read to him when they can scrounge up some time for themselves, and the only conclusion he can come to is a horrified, holy shit, Starrk-san's going to kill me.

#myscrap #bleach #coyote starrk #kurosaki ichigo #koyonagi senzou #shiba kaien #ichigo & starrk time travel verse

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cheshiresense · 2 years ago

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[Last Part]

Can't have a Yuzu POV without a Karin POV lol~

-0-

Karin makes it back before curfew with fifteen minutes to spare. Their brother had extended hers and Yuzu's curfew to 10pm since they'd hit their double-digits, and she's always been mindful to never break it. Yuzu isn't usually one to stay out late, but Karin likes her freedom to wander around without supervision enough that she isn't going to risk a grounding just because she couldn't be bothered to check the time. Besides, she knows kids her age don't get half as much trust or leeway from their guardians, so Karin isn't going to disappoint Ichigo's expectations by not following the few rules he'd set for them.

Not to mention she has exactly zero faith in her own ability - or honestly anyone else's - to slip under her brother's radar anyway. Only an idiot would think they could, and Kurosaki Karin wasn't raised a fool. Sneaking in late isn't even worth considering.

So she's back by 9:45 sharp, and she unlocks the apartment door to reveal a scene in the sitting room that's not entirely unfamiliar ever since dinner last Tuesday.

"Shoes," is Ichigo's greeting, and Karin immediately rallies.

"I rinsed them!" She insists defensively. "Thoroughly!"

She had. Karasu River, specifically that spot where their mother had died so everyone's avoided it ever since like they might get cursed if they stray too close, is a great place to get rid of evidence.

"And now you're thoroughly tracking water through the door," Ichigo points out dryly, which, oh yeah, she is, whoops.

Karin makes a vaguely sheepish face before quickly toeing out of her sneakers and leaving them outside to dry instead. Just her luck that Yuzu dropped a vial of her newest poison yesterday and burned a hole straight through the entryway doormat, and they haven't had a chance to replace it yet.

She shuts the door, drops her duffel bag against one wall, and ambles over to her brother for a hug and a cup of tea from the fresh pot on the kotatsu. Or rather, Ichigo goes about pouring her one while she slumps into his side with a content, if tired, sigh.

Ichi-nii has never really been one for hugs, even when she and Yuzu had been smaller, and that's no different now. Occasionally, on a birthday or new year or when - very rarely - something had made them cry, he'd dole one out to each of them, stiff and a little awkward, but genuine in a way Karin knows he'd had to learn just for them, and that alone had made it precious. Besides, he's never refused their hugs when they take the initiative to go in for one, and Karin knows full well that anyone else would be thrown across the room or tossed out a window, Mizuiro included, so that's just as good even if Ichigo doesn't often return them.

She leans against him now, and he endures it stoically, handing her tea and also casting a surreptitious eye over her for any signs of injury. There are none of course— Karin's been learning how to protect herself ever since her brother had become the undisputed head of the household, even if Isshin still remains determinedly blind to anything related to his son to this day. And on top of that, Ichigo's long since ensured their safety from most lesser predators in this town, so it's not as if they have anything to worry about.

Of course, there are still morons who slip through Ichigo's iron-fisted oversight - or rather, are allowed to slip through - either because they're new to Karakura or they're lured in from a neighbouring town, all of them deemed harmless enough prey for Karin and Yuzu to play with. They make for wonderful test subjects for Yuzu when she's getting creative again, and very convenient outlets for Karin whenever soccer and karate aren't enough to siphon off her excess energy. Unlike Yuzu, Karin really isn't made to sit still or stay indoors all day.

She blinks when Ichigo jostles her out of her thoughts with a nudge and a succinct reminder, "Greet."

Karin's pretty sure there's some kind of What Manners And Social Norms To Teach Your Kids So They Can Fit Into Society self-help book squirrelled away in Ichi-nii's room somewhere. Possibly even a series. Of course, her brother certainly doesn’t follow his own lessons on conduct, but this is one of those things that Ichigo has always implicitly expressed his preference for her and Yuzu to ‘do as I say, not as I do'.

So Karin can only swallow a forbearing grumble along with her tea before nodding curtly across the table, "Good evening, Hirako-san, Urahara-san."

Ichigo's already turned back to some papers in front of him, because bright side— her brother's number of fucks to give begins and ends with the most perfunctory of civilities, so at least Karin doesn't have to waste time on small talk. Yuzu, her crazier half, is the only one of them who actually enjoys that stuff. Karin sometimes can't believe they're related.

"Brat," is Hirako's response, and his voice says amusement but his eyes say caution. Well, amused caution, but Hirako seems to find almost everything a little funny, and it's not even some weird bravado because his reiatsu manifestation is constantly a glittering field of yellow-gold-blue that takes the form of a sunny beach. Usually.

On the other hand— "Good evening, Kurosaki-san," Urahara returns, perfectly polite, with a perfectly pleasant if distracted smile, perfectly suited for someone who's genuinely glad to see an acquaintance's sister home safe. Except his reiatsu manifestation is a fucking ocean of blood, deep and dark and completely still on the surface no matter what he says or does. The only times Karin's seen even just a ripple in it is when Ichigo is talking. Her brother at least seems to have a knack for taking Urahara off-guard. Nobody else though, and the external mimicry of human reactions - no matter how expertly crafted - doesn't impress Karin one bit when she can see the disconnect between his insides and outsides.

So she snorts and goes back to ignoring them both. Since the dinner last week, these two have come back a couple more times, mostly meeting with Ichigo for something or other, probably a ghost-related problem, with Urahara also dropping off a stack of books and scrolls for Yuzu, and they seem like they'll be sticking around for a while. But until Ichigo tells her that they're going to be part of the family, like Mizuiro, Karin's not going to waste her time on getting to know them. Honestly, just by dint of being people, and worse, troublesome ones, means that they're more likely to get themselves offed at the business end of Ichigo's swords than anything else.

"Ichi-nii," She says instead. "I have another away game on Friday. Can you sign me out of class?"

Ichigo makes a noise in the affirmative. "Leave the form on the kitchen table before you go to bed. Is it in Naruki City again?"

"Yeah," Karin makes a face. "Back-to-back matches against Hiromasa. Dunno why they even bother when they're not serious about it anyway. And they're so annoying. We always kick their asses but they still look down on us cuz I'm a regular on the team. What, a girl can't play soccer now? But we literally run the score up into the double digits every time we play and all they say is that they were going easy on us cuz we've got girls on the team!"

She stops and takes a deep breath. She's actually complained about this before, multiple times, ever since she'd turned nine and been deemed old enough - and tall enough - to play in official matches. Or as official as elementary school club competitions can get anyway, and being able to play against other schools was awesome, but that didn't mean some of their opponents weren't dickheads. At least she'll finally enter middle school next year and probably won't ever bump into this particular group of idiots on the field again, but until then, she's no doubt going to complain some more.

And her brother always listens with the sort of patience he wouldn't extend to anyone else's whining, which Karin likes to take shameless advantage of, but on occasion, she also needs other ways to vent, and that was really what today had been all about after enduring last Friday's game.

Right on cue, Ichigo asks without looking up, "Haven't you gotten it out of your system yet?"

Karin huffs and takes another long drought of tea before speaking. "Kind of? But the guy didn't even put up a fight! He even pissed himself, Ichi-nii! Before I even did anything! It was gross!"

Ichigo finally lifts his head just to level a look at her. "You play with your food too much."

Karin stares indignantly back at him. "I do not!"

"How long have you had your eye on this latest one?"

Since like, three weeks ago, but that's not Karin's fault! "It's not my fault he took forever to take the bait. You'd think it would've been easier with the way he stalked my jogging route every single day just to see me in a tank top and shorts. Besides, I was saving him for after last Friday's match! You know, as a treat."

"And now it's already Tuesday," Ichigo mutters, but he also pats her on the head in a vaguely comforting if condescending manner, like he's consoling her for a botched job.

Karin splutters. "Ichi-nii!"

Ichigo smirks briefly. "You're still young. You'll get better. There's no rush."

Karin pouts into her tea. Eleven - literally twelve in less than half a month! - isn't that young. She's definitely not a kid anymore. Ichigo was already scaring the crap out of half the town before he'd even hit his pre-teens. He hadn't even killed anyone yet back then but people twice his size would pick fights with him that he'd always win, and then he had started killing once he'd turned thirteen, which had only cemented his reputation. Karin and Yuzu had had to beg forever to get their brother to teach them some of the tricks of his trade, because they hadn't wanted to wait years to follow in Ichigo's footsteps, and Ichigo had thankfully agreed that it made sense for them to learn how to protect themselves.

Still, no matter how many bodies she and Yuzu have put in the ground - not that many actually, they've got a long way to go to catch up to Ichigo - Karin isn't so oblivious that she doesn't know that a good portion of the respect they receive these days is entirely down to their brother's looming shadow behind them. But everyone needs a goal or two in life, and one day, she wants people to look at her and flinch because she's scary enough all on her own.

"Did you clean up properly tonight?" Ichigo adds like an afterthought.

Karin rolls her eyes. "I would've called you if there was a problem. You know I have like three different cleanup crews and Mizuiro-nii on speed-dial."

She can't wait until she's tall enough to bag and carry adult corpses around on her own. It's embarrassing to have to call someone every time she - okay, she admits it - makes a bit of a mess. It's not an issue when Ichigo is there, and she just has to help him, but when she's alone, it pays to have extra hands in the aftermath, even if it feels kind of like she still has to be babysat.

"Cleanup crews?" Hirako suddenly interjects from where he's just been watching them and listening like he's never heard a single conversation in his life and it's somehow super fascinating. What a weirdo. "Where'd ya get those from?"

Karin squints at him. Why does he want to know? Shinigami old as dirt still don't know how to do their own cleanup?

"They're just local yakuza," Ichigo actually takes the time to answer, which seems exceptionally tolerant of him. He must really like this guy for some reason. "Someone always has some free time to lend a hand, and they don't mind sharing their dump sites."

Hirako arches an eyebrow. "They don't?"

Ichigo smiles lazily at him. "Not anymore."

Hirako stares at him for a beat longer before bursting into raucous laughter, except the sunny beach from before is shifting, sliding, fucking shimmering, and then it's no longer a beach even if it's still a field of yellow-gold-blue. Instead, sand dunes rise where there'd only been wild grasses and rocky outcrops before, an endless desert as far as the eye can see, while the sea isn't a sea at all but something that could be an oasis or just a mirage, now gone hazy behind a wave of heat, and all of it so deceptive and deadly that you might wonder how you could've ever mistaken it for anything remotely harmless at all.

And it's even worse beside him, because Urahara is sitting there, blandly smiling away from behind his fan, and he doesn't look much of anything, but the ocean of blood he's literally submerged in stirs for a minute like there's something large and lethal swimming in its depths. Karin can't see what it is though because the blood is so thick that she can barely even make out Urahara's face, let alone anything else.

She rubs at her eyes. They're giving her a headache. This is why she prefers baseline humans over ghosts. Ghosts naturally have more reiryoku than average living beings, and Shinigami have even more than that - way more - so Karin in turn sees a whole lot more than just flashes of transparent images when she has to look at them. And it would be bad enough if it was just that, but these two lie so much. She doesn't know if it's a Shinigami thing or Ichigo just attracts complications, although now that she thinks about it, Mizuiro had given her headaches at first too. It'd just been easier with him because when he'd started coming over to hang out, he didn't have anywhere near as much reiryoku as these two guys, and now Karin's just used to him so it doesn't much matter anymore.

But these two. She doesn't even know what Hirako's deal is, because as far as she's aware, he hasn't really lied about anything so far. His insides match his outsides, so to speak. But his manifestation also seems to imply that everything he says is as much a truth as it is a lie, or that it could be a lie just as much as it could be a truth, depending on the situation. Which doesn't make any sense, at least not to her.

And don't even get her started on Urahara. That man oozes shady vibes so it's not exactly a shock that his manifestation reflects that. It's just... who the heck has an ocean of blood representing their soul? It's not the fact that it's blood that confuses her; it's that the blood is all there is. Even if you kill a person a day for a thousand years, it can't be all that you are, right? Even Ichigo doesn't have something like that. Although to be fair, his reiatsu manifestation can probably come across as pretty disturbing too. But Karin basically grew up with it so she can't really say for sure. It's certainly never frightened her. Not that Urahara frightens her either. It's just... weird.

Both of these old dudes are so weird. They're the first people she's come across whose manifestations are as complex as her brother's, but she doesn't really know what she can interpret from them because manifestations are different from emotions, and besides that, emotions are her sister's wheelhouse anyway. Yuzu is the one who can pick up what someone is feeling at any moment and extrapolate from there. Karin just gets a bunch of pointless shitty abstract art shoved at her eyeballs, and Shinigami are clearly the worst about it.

And just to make it really unfair, Yuzu says that emotions rarely get too loud for her. Karin doesn't know if it's because her sister had been born with natural talent when it comes to controlling her ability while Karin... hadn't, or if Karin's ability encompasses so much of one of the senses she depends on most in everyday life that it simply affects her more easily, but either way, if the manifestation is a powerful one, then the longer she focuses on it, the more it can overwhelm her.

It'd been almost unbearable at first when she was younger, all of eight years old and finally tapping into her portion of the family inheritance, except even a glimpse of another student with slightly above average reiryoku levels could wipe her out for hours. There'd been days where Ichigo had had to pull her out of school just so she wouldn't have to see anyone, living or dead, and she'd needed almost six months before she'd gotten a proper handle on it.

During last Tuesday's dinner, she actually couldn't even see what Hirako and Urahara's faces looked like until near the end of it. Their reiatsu is just that strong, which means their manifestations appear completely solid and three-dimensional, and that means that those manifestations are the only things Karin sees most of the time when she has to look at them.

She doesn't even get the benefit of practically being able to read minds like Yuzu can. Although Yuzu always says it's nothing like reading minds. Karin remains unconvinced. Emotions can reveal a lot, especially with context clues. Manifestations on the other hand almost never react to whatever is happening in real time. Unlike emotions, they're rarely a consequence of outside stimuli. Hirako's had changed earlier, from illusory beach to the real desert hidden underneath, but that's because his manifestation has always been like that, switching between the two when the mood - his mood - strikes. Even now, it's already settling back onto the beach scene. It may have been somewhat affected by what Ichigo had said - by cleanup crews??? - but it hadn't shown anything that hadn't already been there, part of Hirako's soul.

In contrast, Urahara's the real outlier. Karin doesn't even want to think about his manifestation, never mind look at it. It's not that his soul has become something new either - the whole person would have to be swapped out for that to happen - but she's never met anyone, ever, whose manifestation seems to hinge so absolutely upon one person before. She's not even sure if Urahara is aware of how... fixated he is. And she definitely doesn't know what it means. Ichigo doesn't even like the guy, and Urahara - inside or outside - doesn't seem particularly hung up on Ichigo. Except of course for the little matter of how his actual-facts immortal soul is doing the near-equivalent of placing itself in the palm of Ichigo's hand, which- what. Didn't they just meet like two seconds ago? If Karin actually believed in love at first sight, she'd say this might be what it would look like if it could manifest a physical form in the creepiest way possible, but she doesn't, so to her, Urahara's just insane.

Anyway, no one can blame her for not wanting anything to do with these crazies, especially when coupled with her ability. She wouldn't give it up if she could, because it's hers, and it makes her special like Yuzu, like Ichi-nii, makes her part of the family in a way no one else but the three of them can be, but at the same time, it's honestly a pretty useless skill. Manifestations are just... portraits of souls laid bare, which sounds all kinds of impressive and philosophical but is actually just a fancy way of describing a lifetime of squatting in an art museum with all its exits sealed.

It's terrible all around, made doubly so by their houseguests, and in Karin's opinion, the sooner Ichigo gets tired of them, the better.

The room has gone silent, and Karin only notices when the mostly empty tea mug is plucked from her hand. She's pinching the bridge of her nose with her other hand, eyes closed, but she opens them then to peer up at her brother.

"It's getting late," Ichigo says without much inflection in his voice, but he also pats her head again, and a flare of reiatsu floods her retinas like cold spring water on a hot day, washing away the pain. "Go to bed. Lights out by eleven."

Karin's more than happy to get out of there, away from Less Crazy 1 and More Crazy 2.

"Mm, I know," She gives her brother a quick hug before clambering to her feet. "'Night, Ichi-nii. I'll leave the form in the kitchen."

Ichigo grunts his acknowledgement, and Karin spares a moment to nod in the general direction of the Shinigami before wandering away, pausing only long enough to scoop up her bag before making her way up the hall and to the master bedroom. She and Yuzu still prefer sharing each other's space even though Yuzu is fastidiously possessive about her own belongings, so Ichigo had given them the biggest room when they'd moved in, while he and Mizuiro had split the single and study-turned-bedroom between them. The best perk of this is of course the fact that she and Yuzu get the en suite bathroom to themselves.

Her sister is still up, bopping to some music on her headphones while reading one of the scrolls Urahara had given her. She barely glances up when Karin comes in, although she wrinkles her nose plenty when it's clear Karin hasn't had time to do her laundry.

Karin rolls her eyes and shuts the door behind her. "I won't leave anything lying around, don't faint."

Yuzu glowers at her. "I don't faint!"

Karin snickers as she ducks into the bathroom. "Whatever you say, princess."

The thud of a pillow hitting the bathroom door is her reply. It's actually pretty hilarious when Karin thinks about it. Yuzu's manifestation is a sterile white room lined with perfectly preserved faceless corpses wall to wall, but give her a human body with its guts spilling out, and she immediately runs for the nearest toilet. She doesn't mind the scent of blood, but gods forbid any stains linger where they shouldn't.

Speaking of, Karin digs out the set of clothes she'd changed out of earlier, after her stalker had been dealt with. She hadn't even gotten them very dirty this time, and she'd made sure to scrub everything clean in the river anyway before coming home, but she'll still have to toss them into the washer again if she doesn't want Yuzu nagging her about it. In the meantime, she shoves it all into a vacuum seal bag and leaves it in the corner. She can haul them over to the laundry room next door in the morning with the rest of the past week's load.

Her knives are tucked inside the duffel as well. Those she'll take care of tonight. Ichi-nii went all the way to Nagasaki to commission them for her from a semi-retired blacksmith last year. They're elegant and gorgeous, and they cut like a dream, sheathed in black leather and embossed with a small stylized K on the flat of each blade, only noticeable when the metal runs red. It's the best gift Karin has ever received, and if they ever rust, or she ever loses them, she'll probably bawl her eyes out.

She hops into the shower next, sighing happily as she relaxes under the hot water. Despite the atrocious company Ichigo keeps these days, today's still been an overall good day. She'll be able to go back to her jogging in peace starting tomorrow, and the upcoming match on Friday doesn't seem quite as irritating now that she's had someone to stab a time or ten. Of course, after the match is another matter entirely. Maybe she can tag along to Yuzu's bake sale on Saturday. There's always a couple suckers at the outskirts of Karakura too stupid to live.

It's something to look forward to. For now though, she finishes her shower, brushes her teeth, and then gets to work cleaning her knives. She doesn't have all night.

"Was Onii-chan still talking to Hirako-san and Urahara-san?" Yuzu asks a little later as they get ready for bed because their brother always knows if they stay up too late.

"Yeah," Karin says around a yawn as she sets her alarm. "They might still be out there. Can't you sense them?"

Yuzu shakes her head, leaning over to switch off the lamp on her nightstand. "They're... quiet, I guess. Quieter. I have to be in the same room as them to pick up on their emotions."

Karin hums as she rolls herself into her blankets. "What do you think about them?"

"I don't, really," Yuzu admits easily, so they're agreed on that at least. "Although if Onii-chan gets rid of them, I hope he can wait until after Urahara-san has finished teaching me."

Karin snorts. Typical.

They're silent for a moment until Yuzu speaks up again. "I think they're trouble. I mean, Onii-chan did mention it during dinner last week. But I think it's a different kind of trouble than the usual stuff. Not like yakuza or random creeps or even the monsters. Worse, I think they're going to bring trouble."

Karin frowns into the dark. Well, it's not anything she hasn't thought of herself. It's another reason why she dislikes them. If they've got problems, why do they have to dump them at Ichigo's doorstep? What have they ever done for Ichi-nii?

Still, "Ichi-nii will be able to handle it," Karin says with certainty. She's never known her brother to fail at anything. There has never been a problem Ichigo couldn't solve. He'd even cowed their father without ever laying a single hand on him, and that was back when Isshin had still been stronger than Ichigo.

"Well, obviously," Yuzu says, equally confident. "Maybe Onii-chan will even have some fun with it. I know the monsters don't give him any kind of challenge anymore. And he likes Hirako-san and Urahara-san well enough."

"He likes Hirako," Karin corrects, shooting a flummoxed look at the bed across the room. "Urahara, he could take or leave. I'm surprised Ichi-nii lets him come here at all."

"Yes," Yuzu says with an audible smile. "Onii-chan lets him come here."

Karin blinks. ...Huh.

"So, what, is it like... a crush?" Karin grimaces. Ew. "They're old and weird!"

Yuzu giggles. "I don't think I'd go that far. Yet. Besides, they're also powerful and interesting and not afraid of him, and you know what Onii-chan's like."

"Yeah, but I also thought Ichi-nii doesn't get crushes," Karin grouches. "I can't believe it's both ways."

"Both ways?" Yuzu echoes, and Karin can almost hear her eyes go wide. "Urahara-san too?"

Karin squints up at the ceiling. "What, you didn't pick that up from him? I mean I don't think it's actually a crush. Like you said. But there's something there."

"Urahara-san is a bit strange about Onii-chan," Yuzu agrees thoughtfully. "But I'm not exactly sure what it is. His emotions are hard to read sometimes. Hirako-san is easier. And nicer."

Karin makes a disgruntled sound. 'Nice' isn't how she'd put it, considering Hirako's reiatsu manifestation.

"Hirako-san isn't that bad," Yuzu says, amused. "And they're both kind of like Onii-chan, so that might be good. It's good to have friends."

Karin shrugs and grabs an extra pillow to hug. "Whether they're like him or not, if they do something dumb, Ichi-nii will handle it all the same."

Yuzu laughs, bright and cheerful and just a little anticipatory, even if she does seem to have a better opinion of them than Karin does.

The conversation between them fades away. Karin shuts her eyes and lets her thoughts drift. She has morning practice tomorrow and can't be late, so old weird men calling on her brother are frankly the least of her priorities.

#bleach #myscrap #stunted empathy verse #kurosaki karin #kurosaki ichigo #hirako shinji #urahara kisuke #kurosaki yuzu #karin's way less impressed with the two old dudes who followed her brother home #not that yuzu was all that impressed either beyond what kisuke could do for her lmao #anyway fleshing out karin and smacked her with a much more unique ability than yuzu's lol #not that yuzu's is particularly common in the bleach world but you see the empathy trope in general more often #they're kind of opposites in that #yuzu's relatively more normal in the spiritual powers department #not so normal with her poison obsession in everyday life #karin kind of doesn't want to have much to do with the spiritual side #and is more normal with her daily life #kind of #okay murder's not normal but she goes about it more straightforwardly at least #the main point is i hope they actually feel like people instead of cardboard cutouts lmao #sorry kubo but they were so flat in canon

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cheshiresense · 2 years ago

Text

[From Here]

Dithered over which pov to write next, figured I’d try Yuzu.

-0-

When Yuzu gets a phone call from Ichigo that they would be having two guests for dinner tonight, she is delighted. In all the years she’s known him, her brother has only ever introduced one person to them as something of a friend. Mizuiro is half a sibling at this point, trusted enough to be around them even when Ichigo isn’t, but before him, and after him, nobody else has ever caught Ichigo’s eye enough to warrant an actual invitation to dine with their family.

“They’re related to ghost stuff,” Ichigo adds bluntly, and Yuzu understands that to mean that these two will at least be tougher than the average yakuza on the street, even if they can’t match up to her brother.

“I understand!” She chirps back cheerfully. “I’ll let Karin know. I can’t wait to meet them!”

Then she hangs up, rolls up her sleeves, and gets to work in the kitchen. No guests of her brother’s will ever accuse them of being ungracious hosts on her watch.

(Karin comes home from soccer practice half an hour later. She laughs, as Yuzu does, when Yuzu tells her of their impending guests.)

-0-

Two hours later, Yuzu is putting the finishing touches on the meal when the sound of the door being unlocked carries through the apartment.

"Welcome home, Onii-chan!" She calls out, plating the last dish before carrying it over to the dining table. "Dinner's ready!"

She can hear Karin leaving their bedroom and coming down the hall on deliberately heavy footsteps. She appears just as Ichigo comes in from the front, Mizuiro a step behind him, with two men bringing up the rear, vaguely middle-aged at first glance, younger at the second, and then just ageless the more you stare.

They're tall, is Yuzu's first thought, but everybody's tall from her perspective. Still, they're taller than Ichigo, especially the one in the very back, and bigger too, even if they've got that same elegant dancer's gait her brother walks with, the one that whispers danger in the hindbrain even to those who don't know what to look for. They're also both blond, one darker than the other, but both with hair that nearly reach their shoulders. One wears modern clothing, the other more traditional, and one is empty-handed while the other carries a cane, but both of them take in the whole room in one calculating sweep that misses nothing. And they're both already smiling politely as they walk in, one with a harmless playful edge, the other with a harmless mysterious air, but both as fake as each other.

Yuzu exchanges a glance with Karin just to check she's not seeing things. Karin gives her the eyebrows that means she's noticed too.

Mizuiro had given off a far less dangerous aura when Ichigo had first brought him home. And he still feels much less threatening than these men now, no matter how much Guest One and Guest Two are probably trying to play it down. But back then, Mizuiro had also come in with sharp eyes and a guileless skin-deep smile, and that at least is exactly the same.

Their big brother sure does have a type. Yuzu sometimes wonders if Ichigo goes out and picks the most suspicious and unsettling people he can find to entertain him, or if he just somehow attracts them with his innate charm.

"My sisters, Karin, and Yuzu," Ichigo introduces without suspense, then jabs a thumb at Mizuiro. "And Mizuiro lives next door but he eats with us when we're here."

Then he gestures at the two men. "This is Hirako Shinji and Urahara Kisuke." He pauses for a brief half-second, and his eyes flash gold in Yuzu's, and Karin's, direction. "Hirako's a bit like me." He pauses again, and a funny half-smile hitches at one corner of his mouth. "They both are actually."

He says nothing else, so Yuzu takes that as her cue to sketch a neat half-bow paired with a bright smile. "Hello! It's nice to meet you!"

Beside her, Karin parrots the motion, if in a more perfunctory manner, but they weren't raised in a cave, so they know how to be courteous.

The men murmur back their own greetings even as their gazes shift back and forth between them and their brother like they're trying to pick up on a second unspoken conversation, but it's not as if there's anything for them to hear either way.

It's just that the introduction was short, names and little else, so Yuzu knows that they're equally untrustworthy, which makes sense because Ichigo couldn't have known them for more than a week or two. But the little else he'd tacked on had been a sign as well— not just that they're like him in some ways, in different ways, but also that Ichigo likes Hirako more than Urahara. Nevertheless, the fact that he'd brought them here at all means that they're interesting enough to make them both tolerable.

Yuzu understands, as does Karin, but they give no indication of it as everyone shuffles around to wash their hands, and Yuzu quickly scoops out a bowl of rice each for everyone in attendance.

"Onii-chan never invites anybody over, so I made a lot of extra food today," Yuzu tells them happily. "Please eat as much as you want!"

"Everythin' looks delicious," The darker blond, Hirako, grins at her, and this time, the expression seems more genuine. At the very least, it gives her a warmer feeling than the other blond, Urahara, who also smiles and trills agreement but radiates more distance than an overseas phone call.

Everyone settles around the dining table, although Mizuiro spares a moment to pull an exaggerated moue of aggrievement. "Never invites anybody over? Have I been forgotten, Yuzu-chan?"

Karin rolls her eyes while Yuzu giggles merrily. "You don't count, Mizuiro-nii-chan. You already eat with us almost every day anyway."

Mizuiro drops the act in favour of a smirk, though he looks pleased too, to be counted as family, as if the novelty of it still hasn't worn off. To be fair, it had taken a whole six months before Ichigo had been willing to leave him in the same vicinity as Yuzu and Karin on their own, and Yuzu knows that being trusted like that by her brother is no small feat.

Conversation drops as everybody begins digging in, and Yuzu lets her gaze drift casually over to their guests as they too pick up their bowls and chopsticks.

It's Urahara she lingers on first because he's the one who lifts his bowl to his mouth, only to stop at the last second, chopsticks poised. His expression doesn't really change, and the lapse only lasts a fraction of a second before he's moving again, smoothly pretending to eat a mouthful before lowering his bowl again, chewing and swallowing thin air masterfully. Even Yuzu only spots it because she's been watching the whole time from behind lowered eyelashes as she grabs some eggplant from one of the vegetable dishes.

She lets her gaze drop completely when she feels the man's eyes move from the food to her and then to Ichigo. Still, she can't quite suppress a pout, although she supposes she can't be too disappointed either since Hirako at least eats a good five bites of his rice before suddenly stiffening, glancing down sharply even as his eyes flicker with the same burnished gold colour that her brother possesses.

Then he looks up, looks at Urahara, looks at her, looks long at Ichigo, and then-

-he laughs. It's a bark of one that echoes with a snarl, except the mirth in it is also entirely genuine, enough for Yuzu to glance up with startled eyes. But the rest of the table does as well, so at least she doesn't stand out. Of course, that doesn't prevent Hirako from grinning at her, all teeth, with a bite that would feel like claws at her throat if not for the fact that it's coloured by something even warmer than when he'd complimented her spread. Appreciation, maybe.

"Is it the rice?" He muses candidly, and then actually eats another bite. "Nah, can't be, it was from the same cooker. It's the bowl, right? Not bad, I can't smell or taste anythin'."

Yuzu blinks and shares another look with Karin, who looks largely bored by the proceedings and hasn't stopped eating. Soccer practice always makes her hungry. But she also shrugs in agreement that Hirako is being sincere, so Yuzu relaxes and looks at her brother next.

Ichigo also hasn't stopped eating, although he isn't shovelling food into his mouth as speedily as Karin is. He swallows, glances leisurely at their guests, then looks back at her. "Not bad. Nothing in the food though?"

Yuzu frowns. "It's the first time you've invited them over, Onii-chan. I didn't want to scare them off."

Also, they're tolerable, and Ichigo even likes one of them, so she'd chosen the mildly poisoned bowls over the severely poisoned ones.

Ichigo just looks amused. "They don't scare easily."

Yuzu pouts again before glancing at their two guests, who are both watching them openly now. Hirako still looks like he's just heard a grand joke, while Urahara seems more than a little bemused, but neither of them feels angry.

Her big brother really is an excellent judge of character.

"You really didn't notice anything at all?" Yuzu asks in earnest, peering at Hirako before squinting at Urahara. "Then how come he did? And did you already shake the poison off?"

Hirako snorts and reaches for the communal chopsticks to swipe another chicken wing. "My... constitution's pretty good at negatin' toxins. And Kisuke's trained for this sort of thing."

Trained? Yuzu stares wide-eyed at Urahara long enough for the man to stop exuding caution and start manifesting awkwardness, which isn't what she wants so she hastily blurts out, "Are you really? So you can identify any poison? But the one I made is an original, so you shouldn't have come across it before."

Urahara stares back at her for a long blank-faced moment, not even bothering to stitch on a smile anymore, and like this, he matches the flat undercurrent of his emotions much better, like ice over water, except the water is the ocean and you don't know how deep it goes or what's waiting underneath.

"Ah," The man finally says, lifting a hand to his hat for a moment and pressing down on it so that his eyes are hidden. Then he looks up again and eyes her like he's seeing her for the first time and is pleasantly surprised by what he's found. "I may not know the exact poison, but I could still tell there was something off. Also, it's plant-based, isn't it?"

He pauses, and then, just like Hirako, he picks up his rice bowl again and swallows a decent mouthful, chewing almost thoughtfully beforehand. "And refined with reiatsu. That's actually more difficult to hide from me. Your technique is clumsy too. Give me an hour and I could probably also tell you the strains you crossed to make it. For now, at the very least, I can say there's definitely wisteria in this."

Yuzu is rendered speechless for a full five seconds. And then she snaps out of it and rounds on her brother with the best puppy eyes in her arsenal. She knows they don't actually work, but Ichigo tends to give in to her when she pulls them out anyway because it means she really wants something. "Onii-chan, you'll invite them back again, won't you? Urahara-san is amazing! I could learn so much if he teaches me!"

Ichigo's eyebrows go up for a moment in a way that speaks of indulgence, but he also glances lazily at Urahara before going back to his food. "Ask him yourself."

Yuzu pulls up short, always slightly stunned whenever her brother refuses her, even when it's not a direct refusal. But generally speaking, if she or Karin wants something enough to ask for it, Ichigo has always been the sort to simply make it happen for them. The only times he's ever refused is when he'd thought it too unnecessary - Karin really shouldn't have asked for a flamethrower for her birthday, it's unwieldy and she can't hide it in her backpack, plus they know how to make Molotov cocktails already anyway, which is almost the same thing - or when he'd considered it important for them to get what they want on their own, usually because it would make for a useful life skill in the future.

Never has it been because of a person.

But for the first time ever, this situation seems to have fallen into that exact category, which... She looks back at Urahara with more curiosity than before. For someone Ichigo only finds tolerable, something about this man has... impressed him? Is that what's going on here? Not even Mizuiro has ever succeeded in that before, so for once, Yuzu has no precedent to draw from.

Well, that doesn't matter right now. The important thing is that Urahara will probably remain in her big brother's life for some time to come, which means-

"Urahara-san!" She shoots to her feet, chair clattering back with the force of it as she bows. "Please teach me more about poisons! It's okay if it's just a little bit, whenever you have time. I promise I'll work hard! And of course, I can pay for the lessons!"

She does some mental tallying. There's a bake sale coming up for her club, and the venue they've chosen is close enough to the Karakura border to attract people from the neighbouring town. If she plays her cards right, some thugs from nearby yakuza groups probably wouldn't mind donating to her cause. Pretty little girls offering pretty little cakes are bound to reel in at least a few idiots.

Of course, she'll have to ask Ichigo to get rid of them afterwards. It's better not to risk putting anything too lethal into a school bake sale, just in case of an accident, so she'll have to stick with upset stomachs at most. Once they've paid up, Ichigo can make them disappear. Those upset stomachs can get really gross, and blood and guts aren't much better if cleanup gets messy, so Yuzu would rather not deal with that part.

Unlike her siblings who don't mind it, Yuzu is unfortunately something of a clean freak. Karin always taunts her about having inherited their father's delicate constitution, and Yuzu can't even refute it, no matter how insulted she feels. It's seriously unfair because she can gut a fish in the kitchen no problem, but human intestines make her gag.

"I-" Urahara starts, jolting her out of her thoughts. The man looks taken aback all over again, and like he's missed a step somewhere. He even feels a bit nervous as he whips out a paper fan of all things, one that hides half his face from view. His gaze bounces between her and her brother, emitting enough anxious vibes that Yuzu suddenly wants to give him an emotional support dog or something. "I'm not sure I would be the... best choice for this sort of thing, Kurosaki-san."

Yuzu is unsure who he's talking to, but just in case it's her, she rearranges her face into the most kicked puppy look of disappointment she's capable of. "Why not? You know your poisons, and it looks like it'll be hard for me to kill you. Onii-chan can only teach me so much, it's not really his area, so I've only been able to trial-and-error it for months now. But I'm a quick learner, and I swear I'll listen to anything you're willing to teach me. Or, is it the money? Just name your price."

Even if she can't come up with it all on her own, she's certain Ichigo will help pay the rest. Honestly, even if it's within her budget, he'll just pour the same amount she shells out back into her bank account. The only reason they have to go in a big circle like this is because Ichigo wants them to learn how to handle money responsibly.

"That's not-" Urahara stops again, then snaps his fan shut, and then all of a sudden, it's like a wall comes up, and everything about him shuts down. He straightens, features as unreadable as the rest of him, and then he turns to Ichigo so that it's unmistakeable who he's talking to this time. "Kurosaki-san, is this really alright?"

Ichigo's basically finished eating at this point. Karin gets up for another bowl of rice. Mizuiro watches them like he's binging one of his romance dramas. And Hirako has his head propped up against one loose fist, eyes half-lidded but intent.

In response, Ichigo only shrugs. "I mean, you can say no. But like she said, I can't teach her much more than I already have, and it's not like she's gonna find a better teacher than you at this point, right?"

"And where did you learn it from?" Urahara asks, grey eyes riveted on Ichigo with the sort of focus that feels like he might've forgotten anyone else even exists.

Ichigo actually quirks a smile, sardonically amused. "Same place I learned everything else."

He doesn't expand on it, keeping the conversation on track instead, much to Yuzu's delight. "Anyway, if you're asking for permission, obviously it's a yes. I wouldn't have let her ask in the first place if I wasn't okay with it. And she's smart. You could do worse for a part-time student."

Urahara remains motionless and unblinking for another few seconds. "...Was this why you invited us for dinner?"

Ichigo shrugs again. "Not really. It's not like I knew you knew poisons. I just thought my sisters should meet you, that's all."

"And why's that?" Hirako interjects, also watching Ichigo with gleaming eyes that never waver. "Cuz ya don't seem the type to let jus' anyone get close to your nearest and dearest."

Ichigo turns to him, and his eyes are fond in a way they very rarely are when aimed at anyone not Yuzu or Karin or Mizuiro. It's not quite on the same level, but it does make it even more obvious that Hirako has her brother's favour.

"I thought it'd be good if they knew a few Shinigami," Ichigo says offhandedly, although judging by the slight stir of surprise from both guests, they hadn't expected he would just come out and say it. Or perhaps they're surprised he's talking about it in front of Yuzu and Karin and Mizuiro? But they're family. Yuzu doesn't know everything about Ichigo, but that's just because she doesn't want to know that much about her brother's life, not because Ichigo wouldn't tell her if she or Karin asks.

"You seem like you might bring trouble to my doorstep one day," Ichigo says, somewhat out of the blue, and all at once, Urahara tugs at his hat again just as Yuzu gets a sense of shifty-eyed discomfort all but waving support lights over the man's head. Hirako sort of feels the same, but in a less... personal way.

So whatever's going on, Urahara's probably the one in charge.

Ichigo seems to sense it too, or he's long guessed it considering his not great feelings for Urahara. Either way, he scoffs, and the light in his eyes says he's annoyed, but not annoyed enough to do something permanent about it. Yet. "Yeah, that's what I thought. So I figured it's better for you to know who you should do your very best to protect if shit goes down around them, because otherwise, I might not even feel like hearing you out. Understand?"

Hirako glances at Yuzu, at Karin, even at Mizuiro, then he turns back to Ichigo, solemn in a way Yuzu hasn't seen since they met, "I understand."

It sounds like a promise.

Ichigo hums, satisfied. Neither of them prods at Urahara for an answer, and Urahara doesn't give one. He feels flat again, like a scrap of paper.

"So like I said," Ichigo continues briskly. "If you wanna teach her, knock yourself out. You can send me the bill."

Yuzu beams at him. Looks like she won't have to waste any cakes.

From his seat, Urahara heaves a sigh, and now he just seems tired and still a bit baffled, but he also finally looks at her again like he's assessing her potential. Yuzu straightens and adopts her best imploring face.

This of all things makes Urahara's mouth twitch, and he even feels amused, except it's the sort of amusement that's all wrapped up in razor-wire mockery. That bit doesn't show on his face of course. Still, Yuzu's fingers suddenly itch with the urge to swap out his bowl with the other one after all.

"So clumsy," The man muses, one finger tapping at the cane leaning against his chair. "...Very well, I suppose I may have a few things I can impart to a budding... chemistry enthusiast. On one condition however. And I don't want money."

He looks at Ichigo again, except he doesn't say anything. Ichigo seems to understand anyway because a grin pulls at his lips, a touch too savage to fit on a human face, and aimed at anyone else, Yuzu knows they wouldn't even have time to pick out a coffin.

Urahara seems to be an exception. It makes Yuzu wonder if he's just that strong, certain in his ability to forever remain stronger than her brother, or if he's simply gambling with his life, and it's Ichigo instead who's decided to be uncharacteristically patient.

She hopes it's not the former, because she has no faith in anyone who thinks themselves capable of staying ahead of her brother forever. But if it's the latter, then maybe she'll have enough time to wheedle out everything Urahara knows of poisons before Ichigo snaps and kills him.

"That seems a bit unbalanced," Ichigo remarks.

Urahara inclines his head, and this time, his voice rings of the same vow that had reverberated in Hirako's earlier. "Upon my blade, my life before your family's, should the worst come to pass."

Ichigo laughs, soft and without humour. "This trouble must be something else. That, or you don’t think your life’s worth all that much. But fine. We'll hash it out tomorrow. Keep your word, and I might even go along with whatever you and your people have been cooking up. But Yuzu gets to bug you for lessons any day of the week from now on."

And once again, between one breath and the next, Urahara trades the gravity for the false affability from before.

It's like watching a performance, Yuzu thinks.

She glances at her brother and watches him watch Urahara, still annoyed, still a bit like he could put a knife through the other's ribs if it wouldn't mean the hassle of mopping blood off the floor.

Ichigo likes Hirako. Yuzu does too, even though they just met not even half an hour ago. There's something about him that makes him approachable and friendly despite the very obvious beast lurking beneath his skin. But that too might be part of the charm because Yuzu's long used to the same thing from her brother. Knowing even just that much, it's not a shock that Ichigo has clicked with him - a fellow monster - in a way he never has even with Mizuiro.

But Urahara is different. Urahara is treated with tolerance only, with irritation and discontent and even derision, on and off. But Yuzu knows that her brother has killed people for a whole lot less than that, and yet here Urahara sits at their family's table while Ichigo looks at him from time to time, tolerant and irritated and discontent and derisive, and he can't stop looking.

She wonders if even her brother is aware of what he's doing.

"I'll leave my number," The man offers, complete with a genial smile. "And you may stop by my shop anytime. Allow me a few days, and I shall have some reading material organized for you."

Yuzu perks up, nods, and finally sits back down, then gets up again to fetch two extra bowls of rice, this time clean of any poison. Hirako snickers but accepts his with a nod. Urahara does the same, with that same winning smile, and then dinner restarts, this time uninterrupted.

Well, who cares if Ichigo is aware or not? He’ll figure it out sooner or later. And besides, it’s all the same in the end— people who push her brother too far will face the consequences, and those who don't will not. That's just the simple truth of it.

But in the meantime, Urahara at least won't be going anywhere, which means Yuzu can finally get some guidance for one of her favourite hobbies, and honestly, that's all she really cares about.

#bleach #myscrap #stunted empathy verse #kurosaki ichigo #kurosaki yuzu #kurosaki karin #hirako shinji #urahara kisuke #kojima mizuiro #this excerpt should be called #no child raised by a monster could possibly be fangless #or normal #and yes ichigo protects his sisters well but also he says the best protection is teaching them how to protect themselves #and the twins just extrapolated from there b/c they may be softer compared to ichigo but that's not rly saying much #anyway yes yuzu and karin have their own little abilities #they're not as strong as ichigo but they have their ThingTM #yuzu's very good at sensing emotions tied up in someone's reiryoku #also kind of obsessed with poison #as she once told her big brother: making poison is just extreme cooking #ichigo didn't rly mean to raise her like this but it's the niche she's growing into and she owns it #and ichigo doesn't see a problem with that #you should encourage your kids' hobbies after all #also lmao this may end up kisuke/ichigo/shinji instead

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khr-mepoe · 5 years ago

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This was amazing.

Sky Arcobaleno!Tsuna + Hunger

Premise: Basically, Arcobaleno are batteries. The Sky Arcobaleno bears the brunt of the Curse to keep the world going while the other Arcobaleno elements are responsible for keeping their Sky going. The strongest and purest Sky is needed to stand as a pillar of the world and keep the other Arcobaleno elements in check, and the other elements need to be the strongest and purest in order to feed their Sky for as long as possible.

The Sky Arcobaleno eats their Flames, which allows them to keep their adult form and stay alive, but the more Flames they consume, the more it reflects on the other elements by de-aging their bodies. Because the Sky carries the weight of the Curse, in exchange, the six elements that serve them are theirs to command. If their Sky wants to eat, the elements can’t refuse. And Giglio Nero Skies have always known their duty.

Once the Sky Arcobaleno eats all the Flames available to them, the Sky would starve and die as the Curse becomes too much for them, and the other elements would either cease to exist soon afterwards because the Sky Arcobaleno has eaten too much of their Flames, or they would live on under the rule of yet another Sky until their Flame reserves have been completely drained dry. After that, a new generation of Arcobaleno is chosen, and the cycle repeats itself.

Keep reading

#khr #r27 #sawada tsunayoshi #reborn #myscrap #hunger verse #headcanon #arcobaleno #not mine

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cheshiresense · 3 years ago

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“I will kill anyone that looks at you the way I look at you.”

This is a prompt from a ShinIchi mini-event back in 2020. I couldn’t come up with anything for it at the time but I really liked this prompt so it’s just been sitting on the backburner ever since. I’ve been in a ShinIchi mood lately though so I decided to dust this off and see what I could come up with, and this is the result of two days of going feral over it.

You Can Also Read It On AO3

-0-

As someone who has earned each and every last one of the titles that the world knows him by these days - Saviour of Soul Society, God-Slayer, First Protector, King’s Successor, Shiba Clan Heir, World-Shaker, the list goes on - all before he’d even turned eighteen, it should come as no surprise that Kurosaki Ichigo has his fair share of admirers. In fact, even before he’d become any of those things, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t been popular amongst his peers. Good looks paired with good grades, with a penchant for getting into just enough fights to tick off the bad boy kink in many a teenager’s heart without going overboard, and he could’ve run for Best Garden with the amount of crushes sprouting in his wake.

The difference between then and now is, of course, that Shinji hadn’t met Ichigo yet back then.

Nowadays, it’s always down to a coin toss whether Shinji finds it more amusing or annoying when he has to watch every Shinigami and their affiliates vying for even a fraction of Ichigo’s attention, like flowers starved for sunlight. Or weeds greedy for more than they deserve. It helps that Ichigo almost never gives the impression of reciprocating in any way, friendly enough in that gruff introverted way of his but largely oblivious to even the clumsiest of flirtatious overtures.

Shinji doesn’t mind - much - when it comes from one of the people in Ichigo’s circle. There’s darling Rukia of course, with her pulling-pigtails routine that she’s never quite learned how to grow out of, so every other exchange with Ichigo will inevitably devolve into good-natured bickering and nothing more. Then there’s Inoue-chan, with her doe eyes full of silent longing, waiting for her fairy-tale prince to sweep her off her feet, and so she’ll be left waiting forever because love doesn’t bless those who don’t know how to fight for it. There’s also the chibi Tenth Division captain, who’s more self-aware than both women combined but seems content enough to remain friends, and there’s the little medic from the Fourth Division, recently promoted again, who looks at Ichigo with all the hero worship in the world, and is happy enough with that.

Then there’s the elder Kuchiki, who’s admittedly a bit of an eyesore, because for all his aloof propriety and haughty disposition, he’s also one of the few who knows devotion the way Shinji does, the way Ichigo does, bone-deep and eternal, and Ichigo had secured Byakuya’s years ago, if the way the captain tracks Ichigo in every battle, distant but careful, and always ready to stick Senbonzakura through anyone looking to punch their ticket with Ichigo’s lifeblood, is anything to go by. Fortunately, that devotion is shared with the man’s sister and clan, and Byakuya himself has never attempted anything beyond the friendship Ichigo offers, so Shinji is willing to leave him be.

Of the two Arrancar who like to follow Ichigo around, it’s the blue one that Shinji gets into a flat-out full-throttle no-holds-barred fight with. Nelliel is fine - she takes up the mantle of Ichigo’s vice-captain like she was born for the position, and she’s already proven more than once that she would fight and kill and die for him if necessary. She looks at Ichigo with as much adoration as his actual blood sisters, and Shinji is glad for it because no matter how powerful Ichigo has become, a little extra protection never hurt anyone.

But Grimmjow. That bastard had gotten on Shinji’s nerves the very first time he’d swung by to demand a fight from Ichigo while Shinji was present, only to scent the air like a dog before swinging around to stare at Shinji, and then proceeding to throw down a fucking challenge by sidling right up to Ichigo, tactile as fuck as he’d coaxed the other into a spar, and by the end of it all, panting from exertion and high on adrenaline, the two of them had all but started making out right there in the middle of the goddamn training grounds like a pair of hormonal teenagers.

Three days later, the knock-down drag-out fight that Shinji and Grimmjow had gotten into amongst the barren sand dunes of Hueco Mundo had probably killed every Hollow within a ten-mile radius, but it had also ended with Grimmjow beaten black and blue and bloody, and very nearly beheaded on top of that. The only reason Shinji hadn’t killed him was because he had Ichigo’s favour, so he’d bared his teeth instead and fought with all the cold Hollowfied fury that Sakanade possessed, and he’d only stopped when he’d felt the impotent rage of the Arrancar’s defeat. Neither of them had needed words to understand. Grimmjow is a Hollow, and Shinji is enough of one to prefer it in that instant— Grimmjow had lost, Shinji had won, and that was all there was to it.

A week later, Grimmjow was back to mooching food off the Shiba Clan and picking fights with Ichigo and grudgingly learning the ins and outs of how to be a good Third Seat. He never overstepped again though, never touched with the heavy-handed avarice of their previous interactions, and while Ichigo had seemed a bit disappointed by the loss of a bed partner, he’d also let it go easily enough, with none of the signs of a broken heart. Shinji had kept an eye on it for the next couple weeks before finally letting himself relax, satisfied that he wouldn’t have to cut in again.

An assortment of others drift in and out from under Shinji’s lazy scrutiny. Some stay as friends, some move on as forgettable passersby. Honestly, not that many people ever require actual interference on Shinji’s part. He doesn’t begrudge Ichigo wanting to sleep with someone if he’s in the mood for it. It’s just when feelings get involved and the potential for more rears its head, when it’s someone Ichigo genuinely likes and the relationship might start becoming a threat— that’s the sort of thing Shinji won’t stand for. Luckily for... well, everyone, there aren’t many who get to that point. Ichigo is charmingly selective that way, and anything more intimate than friendship has never come easily to him, no matter how many people have more or less attempted to throw themselves at him, heart in hand and hopeful.

Of course, if there’s anyone who could effortlessly reach that point despite even Shinji’s best efforts, it would have to be one Urahara Kisuke.

For a while, Shinji had actually thought that the worst of the lot would definitely have to be Kisuke. They’re friends, pretty good ones too, so Shinji had had to take that into account the first time he’d noticed the way Kisuke would look at Ichigo sometimes. And to be fair, Kisuke was the one who met Ichigo first— made him, trained him, put a sword in his hand and a monster in his soul and sacrificed him for the greater good, only to fall victim to his own creation along the way, unable to walk away from someone who was only ever supposed to be an overpowered weapon and nothing more.

Months later, in the aftermath of the Quincy War, in the midst of the leftover pieces of an obsolete plan to bind Ichigo to the Soul King’s throne, the first thing Kisuke had done after waking up at the Fourth - fresh out of a coma and still bearing the scars of a battle that had nearly killed him, but wild-eyed and panicked in a way that was not at all like him, calming only when he’d laid eyes on Ichigo - was to place Benihime in Ichigo’s hands before dropping to his knees at Ichigo’s feet and baring his throat to do with as Ichigo pleased.

There could’ve been no greater declaration than that, and Shinji - as witness from a neighbouring hospital bed - had thought, dark and ugly, that if Kisuke really wanted to die so badly, Shinji was fully capable of doing him the favour. Especially when all Ichigo had done was roll his eyes, set Benihime aside, and bundle Kisuke back into bed, fussing all the while.

Ichigo likes him, is the thing, forgave him as easily as breathing no matter how many times Kisuke fucked up with him or how many secrets he kept from him, and to this day, nothing and no one has managed to shake the absolute trust Ichigo has in the former Onmitsukidou assassin, which is really the worst crime of all in Shinji’s books because for all that Ichigo loves his friends and family to the point of fate-defying madness, very few are actually trusted to the extent that Urahara Kisuke had somehow earned from almost the very beginning of their acquaintance without even trying.

Shinji can admit he’d been envious of it, because for a while, Ichigo had had eyes for no one else.

In the early days, if Kisuke had made a bid for Ichigo, or even if he’d simply mentioned that he wanted to wait until Ichigo was older but that it would happen eventually, Shinji probably would’ve backed off, however reluctantly.

That time has long since passed though, and not even Kisuke gets a pass anymore, not when he’s made no such claim despite every chance handed to him on a silver platter. So it’s probably a good thing that Shinji has also come to realize one very important, very convenient fact—

Kisuke will never look at anyone the way he looks at Ichigo, like a compass needle to its north, like a planet around its sun, like the only star left in the sky, but at the same time, he will never act on it either.

He definitely could. All he really has to do is reach out and take. Shinji’s pretty sure that for a good few years, Ichigo had even been waiting for the man to make a move, had pressed his own suit a couple times as well, only for nothing to come of it in the end. But they had the potential - all that trust and all that devotion, forged across battlefields and drenched in blood, molded on the anvil of a relationship tested by sacrifice and faith, and they’d still come out the other end that much stronger for it.

If he had to, Shinji could probably kill Kisuke. Strength-wise, he could manage it, even if Kisuke is a wily sonofabitch. But there are people even Shinji doesn’t have the leeway to draw his blade against without bringing Ichigo’s wrath down on himself, and Kisuke is definitely one of them.

And no matter the shape of Shinji’s obsession, even he knows there are some lines he can’t cross.

So it has to be said that Shinji is a fortunate man, because no matter how much Kisuke loves Ichigo, their relationship isn’t ever going to go anywhere beyond what they already have, not when Kisuke is mired in far, far too much guilt to ever accept what Ichigo would give him willingly.

He’s a fool, but Shinji isn’t above taking advantage of it, isn’t above occupying the space that Kisuke has martyred himself from, as if that would somehow make up for his sins. Sins that Ichigo has long since accepted and absolved him of, and so all Kisuke has really achieved with this farce is push away the one person who knows exactly the kind of monster he is and would’ve still given him his heart for safekeeping.

It’s funny, in a way. All Kisuke has ever needed to do is say yes, and Ichigo wouldn’t have ever looked twice at anyone else. But he’d said no instead, and Shinji would have had to be a special kind of idiot not to grab the opportunity that Kisuke had so easily discarded.

Maybe that makes Shinji a worse man than Kisuke after all. But there’s a reason he alone saw Aizen Sousuke for exactly what he was, a reason why his authority had remained unchallenged for centuries despite the fact that he was probably one of the most average of all the Shinigami captains, a reason why he’d taken the aftermath of his Hollowfication better than anyone, Mashiro included because her soul has always been kind, while the nicest possible word to describe Sakanade would probably have to be trickster— a spirit that reigns over an inverted world that deals in illusions powerful enough to not even allow its victims to know how they died if its master so chooses. How could someone in possession of a soul like that be anything but cruel and cunning and capable of using any underhanded means to achieve the things he wants?

It’s not all Shinji is, and he usually doesn’t care enough about anything to show the more... distasteful sides of himself to the world. But Hollowfication really does bring out the worst in people, the truth of them, and these days, Shinji has no real reason to hide all his faces anymore.

Maybe Kisuke forgot that, or maybe he’s just never known Shinji as well as Shinji thought he did. Either way, the man’s a fool to the very end, but Shinji’s not complaining.

A man only has so many chances in a lifetime, and the best ones never wait around for those who won’t seize them. Shinji has his regrets, enough of them to fill a canyon if he really thinks about it. He’s certainly lived long enough for them to pile up pretty high. But after Aizen, after the Hollowfication, after the government he’d pledged his life and allegiance to and stained his hands red for for centuries had turned on him and his, after a hundred years of running and hiding and finding his footing again in a world that has no mercy for the creatures they’d been turned into, he’d decided that he’d had enough of regrets.

He won’t let Ichigo be another one.

-0-

It’s a day almost like any other, a bunch of them out for lunch at a new restaurant, and Shinji is listening with half an ear to Hiyori’s rant about something or other while his gaze remains on the other side of the room.

That new captain appointed to the Seventh not two months ago is - once again - all over Ichigo at the bar table, and it’s getting real irritating. Yajima Reizou is just some no-name Shinigami Kyouraku had dug out from one of the minor clans, supported by an elder on the Central 46 council but otherwise nothing special. He’s allegedly very close to attaining Bankai, but Shinji can’t glean anything special from him at all. What credentials does he even have to be looming over Ichigo like that, trying to buy him a drink while draping his paws all over Ichigo’s shoulders and staring at him with a face full of an arrogant sort of covetous greed? Even from this distance, Shinji can see the way Ichigo’s eyebrows are furrowed in a distinctly displeased manner. His expression is set in its perpetual scowl so it isn’t obvious, but it’s clear to Shinji that Ichigo’s definitely contemplating taking that drink just to dump it over Yajima’s head. Coupled with the shifting shadows splayed across the restaurant walls, and he might as well have taken out a neon sign that’s screaming for Yajima to back off before he loses a hand.

But then there’s a breath, a pause, where Ichigo glances up as if sensing Shinji’s gaze on him. Their eyes meet, the moment stretches, and then a flash of something like amusement passes over his features like the sweeping silhouette of a bird’s wing, there and gone between heartbeats. Coupled with the way his eyes burn gold for a second, and the shadows on the walls darken to the black of the abyss, and Shinji can feel his own Hollow instincts surge to the fore.

Then the moment ends, and Ichigo glances away again, turning back to Yajima. He doesn’t seem any more impressed than before, but he also doesn’t brush the man off or - preferably - punt his ass through the nearest window. He settles tolerantly under Yajima’s egregious attention instead, and in the face of that, Shinji also looks away, looks down, snorting into his drink.

“Hey, are you listenin’ to me?” Hiyori growls from beside him.

Shinji rolls his eyes at her. “Yeah, yeah, Kisuke’s bein’ a cryptic asshole - when is he not? You should be used to it by now.”

“Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I have to like it!”

And then she’s off again, her way of de-stressing, and Shinji lets her, humming along at all the right points. He’s had decades of practice after all.

He looks again across the room and tracks the presumptuous gestures of Yajima’s advances, at a heavy palm on Ichigo’s arm, at eyes that dare to look above his station.

The waiter comes over with their lunches. Shinji digs in, nods his approval for the taste, and lets the babble of conversation wash over him.

He doesn’t look at Ichigo again, doesn’t need to when Ichigo is a pulsing supernova in the peripheral of his senses.

He concentrates on eating his meal instead. He has a busy day ahead of him.

-0-

"I truly underestimated you, Taichou."

If Shinji has to roll his eyes any harder, he’ll strain himself. As it is, under the shadows of dusk, deep in a forest at the edge of District 3 of South Rukongai, Shinji crouches beside a makeshift fire pit and unceremoniously tosses a slumped over figure wrapped in a flammable sheet into it before rising to his feet again.

At his side, Aizen Sousuke helpfully passes him a lighter. No point throwing Kidou around and risking detection, even if the chances of that coming from the two of them are next to nil.

“Shut up, Sou-chan,” Shinji grumbles. Even eight years after the Quincy War, he’s still not used to the fact that his soul-damned lieutenant managed to weasel out of Muken on good behaviour or some shit, allowed to serve out his sentence via community service instead. The bastard has all his reiatsu bound, with enough seals on him to ensure he can’t stray more than two thousand feet from Shinji at all times, and all of it is tangled around a kill-switch that would strike him dead at a word, but even then, it’s really more trouble for Shinji than Aizen is worth.

Some days, Shinji seriously contemplates killing him anyway, no matter what Kyouraku says.

“You didn’t work this hard even when you thought I was a threat to Soul Society,” Aizen continues, blithely ignoring everything Shinji says as he always has.

“You were a threat to Soul Society,” Shinji retorts, watching the corpse light up with a fwump of flame. “But I was a captain back then, and not of the Second. I could hardly kill people anytime I pleased, could I? Also, you might recall I didn’t used to have a Hollowfied spirit rattlin’ around in my skull. You can thank yourself for that.”

“Oh I do,” Aizen says agreeably. “You’re far more interesting like this. But aren’t you still a captain now?”

Shinji’s lip curls. He doesn’t answer.

The Gotei 13 and the government will never have his loyalty again. The only reason he’d returned at all was because Soul Society had still been his home for over eight hundred years. He hadn’t wanted to give that up, not to mention it had felt nice to parade some of Central 46′s greatest nightmares right in front of the old fogies’ faces when they can’t say anything about it because they were too desperate to stabilize their military power. Plus, from a purely self-serving point of view, it’s just smarter to have access to the organizations that might turn on them again one day.

But on a personal level, aside from the other Visored who’d come back with him, and of course Ichigo, Shinji honestly couldn’t care less about the rest. He’ll do his duty as the Fifth Division captain, he still has enough of a sense of responsibility for that much. But if push ever comes to shove, if Central 46 draws their battlefields again one day and Visored and the like are once again persecuted, Shinji has no qualms designating everyone who turns against them an enemy and treating them accordingly. Even his old friends... well. Not a one had said a single word in their defense, had they? Not a one had apologized either, a century down the road. He’s friendly enough with them nowadays but he’s not stupid enough to ever trust them again.

Shinji knows where he stands these days, and it’s very much not with the Shinigami. He’d even told Yamamoto as much - “We ain’t your allies. We are Ichigo’s allies.” - not his fault if the old man hadn’t taken him seriously enough to pass it on to someone else before he’d kicked the bucket.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when Aizen laughs softly from beside him, and Shinji has to suppress the urge to push the bastard into the fire.

God, what has the world come to? Why did he take Aizen with him anyway? Oh yeah, because nobody else wants to babysit him. Not that Shinji has ever wanted to babysit him either but he hadn’t gotten much of a choice, had he? Screw you too, Kyouraku.

On the other hand, Shinji’s almost certain his old lieutenant won’t rat him out for this sort of thing because it amuses him too much. Not that Shinji would care if he did - he would’ve been much more careful the first time he’d done this if he’d wanted to keep that tight a lid on it - but it doesn’t make Aizen any less annoying.

At least Shinji knows he isn’t talking to a fake these days. Small mercies.

“Why do I put up with you again, Sou-chan?” Shinji asks, mostly rhetorical.

Aizen seems to understand this because all he does is smile like some enigmatic lunatic before remarking, “This one was a captain, Taichou. And Kyouraku-soutaichou isn’t nearly as much of an oblivious clown as he likes to pretend to be.”

Shinji scoffs. “Kyouraku will just have to deal. Nobody liked this guy anyway. Who’s gonna miss him?”

Besides his squad. And his clan. And Central 46. But who cares about any of them?

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Aizen raise his eyebrows, but this guy’s also the last person to care about some two-bit Shinigami not worth the grave Shinji’s dug him, so he only looks entertained.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Shinji murmurs, watching the flickering fire in front of him. For a second, within the hungry flames, Yajima’s waxen face surfaces, eyes gouged out and expression contorted into one of horrified realization. Then it disappears again, and the pop and crackle of the fire is all that remains.

Aizen is silent this time. Shinji doesn’t say anything else either. They watch the body burn to ash, and then they fill the grave.

“Well, that’s that then,” Shinji announces once they’re done. Night has well and truly set in. “Let’s head back, Sou-chan.”

Aizen acquiesces with a nod before slanting thoughtful look at him, one that Shinji narrows his eyes against in response. “What?”

Aizen smiles something gently reminiscent of the good guy routine he’d worn for a good few centuries, and Shinji has to physically abort the twitch his hand makes towards his Zanpakutou. Aizen catches the motion and smirks, but at least that makes the façade recede from his face.

“You’re a more possessive man than I remember, Taichou,” The bastard comments. “And there is only so much of this that you can blame on the Hollow.”

Shinji just rolls his eyes again. Is that all? “You never showed me anythin’ even remotely real about you. Why the hell would you think that I’d show you anythin’ real about me?”

It wasn’t like any of his personality or reputation had been fake, not the way Aizen’s had been. Shinji thinks that even now, he can be considered a pretty easygoing guy about most things, and back then, he’d been even more personable, always approachable enough to get along with subordinates and colleagues alike. He’d always tried to look after them or work beside them to the best of his ability. He’d cared, enough to give them the best parts of himself and lead them or fight side by side with them as well as he’d known how, all while hiding the worst parts of himself, because even as old as he’d been by then, he hadn’t yet learned that the only people you can really count on are the ones who know even those worst parts of you and still won’t turn away.

(It’d been so easy for him to pick out all the flaws in Aizen’s quaint little performance, because sometimes, more often than Shinji had been strictly comfortable with, it had been a lot like looking into a mirror.)

Now, it’s the opposite. Now he doesn’t care at all, because the worst that could happen to him has already happened - what good did being a decent captain or a decent colleague or a decent friend do him when none of them had given a single fuck about the bloody circus that had passed for their trial? - and the worst that could happen to Seireitei - it’ll be war if even Ichigo can’t drag them kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century - probably couldn’t happen to a more deserving governing body.

And besides, these days, who doesn’t know that they’ll have Kurosaki Ichigo to contend with if they dare lay a finger on any of the people under his protection? With no sentiment left to spare for the Shinigami, a ragtag family that would go to bat for him, and Ichigo watching his back, what could Shinji possibly have to be afraid of anymore?

Soul Society had left him high and dry once already. Their refusal to investigate, their certainty in their own righteousness and infallibility, and their willingness to condemn anything they can’t control or deem to be a threat to their authority had all contributed to stripping him of his pride, his position, his friends, his home, and nearly his soul, all in one fell swoop.

Shinji refuses to be that helpless again. And if that means guarding what’s his with extreme prejudice so that nobody will ever be able to take away the things he cares about most again, then so be it.

In the distance, the wind croons a drawn-out ominous note, rustling through the trees. The skies are overcast. It’ll probably rain soon.

“People should learn,” Shinji says at last as he opens a Garganta for them. “Not to touch what’s mine. That’s not anythin’ new. But if you didn’t know that before, Aizen, now you do.”

He glances back and tips a grin - all teeth - at the man who’d split his soul with a shiny rock, and yet somehow, Shinji doesn’t actually hate him half as much as he hates the Gotei and Central 46. Not that he’d ever tell Aizen that.

“The only difference between then and now,” Shinji chuckles as he steps through the Garganta. “Is that now, I have the freedom to do something about it. That’s all.”

-0-

[Shunsui summons Shinji to his office the next morning when word gets around that Yajima never showed up for work, and Iba reports that he’s checked with the Yajima Family, and they thought he’d stayed at the Seventh because he’d never gone home last night.

“Shinji,” Shunsui sighs, already nursing a headache, and it isn’t even noon yet. “You can’t keep doing this.”

Lounging on the open windowsill, Shinji grins at him, languid and cheery and completely at odds with the look that burns like hellfire in his eyes, cold and terrible and three steps left of rage.

(Shunsui wants to say that this man is so very different from the one he remembers, that the Hollowfication and a hundred years in the Human world have changed him, hardened him, remade him into something fae and cruel, but they haven’t, not really. He just used to hide all his serrated edges better, because he hadn’t needed them amongst friends, in a place that had been home to him for longer than most Shinigami today have been alive.)

“I can’t?” Shinji wonders. “Why not?”

Shunsui sighs again and thinks - not for the first time - about how Jyuushirou would’ve handled this. Better than him, probably. “The Seventh needs a captain.”

Shinji waves a dismissive hand. “Give it to Love.”

“He doesn’t want it.”

“The lieutenant then. Iba.”

“He’s not ready.”

“Can’t be worse than Yajima.”

Shunsui pinches the bridge of his nose. “...I’ll consider it.” He drops his hand and demands, “But can’t you deal with your relationship problems some other way?”

Shinji arches an eyebrow at him. “Who says they’re problems?”

Shunsui gives him an exasperated look. “Then what are you doing?” A thought occurs to him, and he isn’t sure how he feels about it. “Are you courting him?”

Shinji chuckles and looks away, out across a city that Shunsui is pretty sure his old friend both loves and hates in equal measure.

“I don’t need to court him if he’s already mine, do I?” Shinji turns back to him, mockery writ large across his features. “If it helps, the moron was already embezzlin’ money from the Seventh’s treasury for his clan. He fessed up when he still thought I could be convinced to let him go. That should get the government off your back if they kick up a fuss.”

Shunsui rubs a hand over his eyepatch. “Shinji-”

“If that’s all?” Shinji interjects, looking bored now.

Shunsui stares at him for a moment. Shinji stares back, half a smile still hitched across his face even as his eyes remain unmoved and unforgiving.

(Shinji is Rukongai-born. Even after all these years, decades upon centuries of polish and paint and perfected pride, it shows—

Never forget those who wrong you, because if they can do it once, they can do it again.

Never forget, so that next time, you’ll see it coming.)

Shunsui heaves a third sigh. “That’s all. Shinji.”

He supposes it’s something of a miracle that Shinji stops to listen at all. It’s a pity then that Shunsui doesn’t really know what to say.

“Never mind.” He shakes his head and begins planning how to spin this latest incident to Central 46. He’s definitely not paid enough for this. “Try and kill less people. Don’t get caught. And for heaven’s sake, go ask Ichigo-kun out already. This is getting ridiculous.”

From the window, Shinji snorts and rocks up onto his feet. He doesn’t promise anything, but he doesn’t refute everything either. A moment later, he’s gone, flitting over the rooftops of the capital, heading in the vague direction of the Shiba Clan’s compound.

Shunsui sighs once more and wishes again that Jyuushirou was here because between the two of them, he was never the one who was supposed to become Captain-Commander.

Then he shunts those useless thoughts aside and gets back to work.]

-0-

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“After the dressin’-down I got? I deserve a break.”

“It’s not even ten yet.”

“And?”

From his cat-like sprawl across a sunlit patch of the engawa, Ichigo rolls his eyes, tucks an arm under his head, and goes back to watching Kuukaku boss Aizen around in the garden. It’s an uncanny sight, no matter how many times it happens.

Shinji still takes some petty amusement from it even after all these years. He drops down to sit beside Ichigo, absently surveying their surroundings. Everything is still damp from the overnight bout of rain, but it’s clear blue skies today.

He stills when a hand snags his wrist, but he doesn’t resist when Ichigo tugs his hand over, deceptively slender fingers sloped over the steady drum of Shinji’s heartbeat as Ichigo brings their joined hands up to eye-level.

Shinji knows what he’s looking at. There’s still a bit of blood caked beneath his fingernails.

He’d been thorough yesterday, but then he always is. It would be rude to be anything less when it comes to expressing the extent of his affections.

Ichigo makes a noncommittal noise and releases him. Shinji lets his hand linger, lets their calloused palms catch against each other’s, before slowly, reluctantly, withdrawing. Ichigo tracks the movement, a glint in his eyes that speaks of want, that speaks of mine, and that makes the parting easier.

“How’s Yajima?” Ichigo asks with a quirk to his lips that says he already knows, that says he might even have been watching last night.

Shinji smirks back. “Regrettin’ all his life decisions. Or he would be if he could.”

Ichigo snorts. “You’re really...”

He trails off like he can’t quite find the right adjective to describe Shinji. He’s still smiling though, so Shinji takes that as a good sign. Besides...

“Weren’t you the one goadin’ me on?” Shinji asks, grinning when Ichigo’s half-lidded gaze slides over to meet his own. “This isn’t even the first time.” He leans over, peering down at Ichigo. “I think you like it when I kill for you.”

A long beat of silence follows. Ichigo doesn’t move, doesn’t even twitch under Shinji’s regard. The only change is the way his eyes turn molten gold, and their little corner of the yard darkens like the sun’s been blotted out. Shadows play over Ichigo’s face, darting across his cheekbones like ivy, and Shinji can’t quite stop himself from reaching out, from touching.

He runs a thumb along the angular line of Ichigo’s jaw, brushes fingers over his temple, then tangles them into his hair, sun-bright orange now dyed with streaks of black.

Ichigo still doesn’t move, doesn’t look away. He watches Shinji the way he always does these days, warm and patient and familiar. It’s nothing Shinji hasn’t noticed before, but in the quiet fragility of this moment, the weight of it makes him feel oddly breathless.

“You know what I want,” Shinji says, voice pitched low, all but hovering over Ichigo now, close enough to feel his body heat.

Ichigo huffs a breath of laughter. “Well you haven’t exactly been subtle.”

Shinji hums an equally amused note at the back of his throat. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be.” He pauses, then tacks on, “It’s not just a game though.”

One corner of Ichigo’s lips ticks up. “I know.”

Shinji’s grip tightens in Ichigo’s hair. “I mean it, Ichigo. I’m not good at sharin’. I’ll kill anyone who looks at you the way I look at you, anyone who thinks they can have you, that they can take you from me. I can barely stand your little friends moonin’ after you as it is. It’s like the brats never grew out of puberty.”

Ichigo’s smile only widens, and the darkness lurking behind his eyes matches Shinji’s own. “Yes, I know, Shinji.”

Shinji studies him for a moment longer, then nods, satisfied.

“Good.” He moves into a more comfortable position, his other hand splaying against the wood of the engawa by Ichigo’s shoulder, their thighs pressed together. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Ichigo laughs, and finally, he also moves, freeing his arm so both his hands can settle at Shinji’s hips, unhurried but certain of his welcome. “Only took you four years and about three times that many bodies, but who’s counting?”

Anything else he might’ve said right then is lost to the hungry crush of Shinji’s lips against his, followed by the sting of a bite, soothed by the sweep of a tongue soon after. It’s a violent claim of a kiss, but Ichigo returns it just as fervently, and Shinji growls into it, wanting to devour, wanting to be devoured.

(He has a god beneath him, and he doesn’t forget that, can’t when the thrum of Ichigo’s reiatsu is a constant conquering reminder washing over him like the ocean’s tide, but also doesn’t want to because for all that there is nothing of surrender in Ichigo’s frame, he also yields to Shinji’s possessive touch, easy and true and trusting, and Shinji will shatter his own heart against the ground before he ever makes Ichigo regret his choice.)

They part for breath, panting softly between the brush of swollen lips. It’s a cool morning, but Shinji feels as flushed as Ichigo looks, and his arousal only ratchets higher when he shifts against the wiry strength of Ichigo’s body and pleasure spikes between them. A whisper of a moan slips from Ichigo’s lips, and those amber eyes go hazy with desire. Shinji just barely manages to stop himself from grinding his hips down at the sight, but he can’t help kissing him again, rough and wanting.

He’s going to walk away today with his flesh aching, what with how hard Ichigo’s fingers are digging into his sides, but that’s fine because Shinji doesn’t plan on letting Ichigo leave without just as much of his own claim marking him up.

“You gotta slow down,” Shinji mumbles as clever hands find their way beneath his uniform, though his protest sounds half-hearted even to his own ears. “We ain’t fuckin’ with an audience, and our first time isn’t gonna be in your backyard.”

Ichigo laughs against the skin of his throat, and Shinji shudders when he feels a flash of teeth, there and gone like a taunt.

“Ichigo.”

Ichigo sighs but finally eases away, chuckling when Shinji’s the one who has to stifle a disappointed noise.

“I look forward to being wined and dined first then,” Ichigo tells him, one hand coming up to trace the arch of Shinji’s brow before moving to tuck the soft fall of Shinji’s hair behind one ear, and then lingering to cup the curve of Shinji’s cheek.

It’s such a simple gesture, but there’s something about it, paired with the quiet, steadfast warmth of Ichigo’s gaze, that’s almost too tender to bear, to hold, like hope-spun glass that could break at a single touch.

Shinji would raze all of Soul Society to the ground for this gaze, this touch, this single precious moment.

He closes his eyes, leans into that hand ever-so-slightly, and then opens them again and exhales a shaky breath before rasping out hoarsely, “Haven’t I been doin’ that the past four years?”

Ichigo grins. “Is that what you’d call it? Well then don’t take Aizen with you next time and I’ll consider it.”

The last of the drugging heat of their exchange deflates at that, and Shinji collapses into snickers as he flops back onto the engawa beside Ichigo, still close enough to touch. Shinji does exactly that, coiling a proprietary arm over Ichigo’s waist.

“Is that your way of complainin’ that I never asked you to come with me?” Shinji asks, thoroughly amused.

“It does send mixed messages if you’re taking someone else on all our dates,” Ichigo agrees dryly before they both devolve into laughter.

“I’ll get Kisuke to adjust the seals,” Shinji promises. “Two thousand feet really isn’t that much for our kind, and I don’t need Aizen runnin’ commentary in the peanut gallery when we go out.”

Ichigo snorts and turns his attention back to the garden. It’s long since been vacated, because Kuukaku’s a terror, but she also has tact.

“I’m not,” Ichigo says without taking his eyes off the distant horizon beyond the walls of the compound. “Very good at sharing either. Not about this sort of thing.”

Shinji glances at him, startled, and then scoffs at the sheer pointlessness of that statement. “Ichigo, if you don’t know by now how gone I am on you, you have not been payin’ half as much attention as I thought you were.”

Ichigo coughs out an amused sound before rolling up onto one elbow so that he’s the one poised over Shinji this time.

“That’s not it, though I'm glad to hear it.” He falls silent for a few seconds before continuing, “I just want you to know that I don't want anyone interfering with-" He motions between them. “-us either.” For a moment, he actually looks embarrassed. “I guess I just like to play, and you seemed like you enjoyed it too. Anyway,” He rallies a bit defensively here, as if this is something that requires defending. “You started it first. I thought I’d have to fight Kyouraku-san for you when you killed that clan heir so messily that half the captains knew who did it. You were lucky he was such a dick that even the guy’s own family didn’t care enough to look into-”

“You were gonna fight Kyouraku for me?” Shinji interrupts. That... actually explains a few things. Even if Kyouraku was wary of who was backing Shinji, it’s not like him to not even ask any questions or at least try harder to make Shinji stop, and yet, from the very first time Shinji had let instinct and impulse off their leash, Kyouraku had never pushed particularly hard. Shinji had put it down to Kyouraku being overly cautious now that he didn’t have Ukitake to do it for him, but if Ichigo had gone directly to confront the Captain-Commander right from the get-go...

Above him, Ichigo gives him a long-suffering look. “Is that what’s important here?”

Shinji shrugs and smooths his hand up the arch of Ichigo’s back. “Pretty much. What do you want me to say? I did start it first. They were annoyin’, and you’ve been mine since...” He pauses before admitting just a touch ruefully, “Probably longer than I should’ve been lookin’. So I started it, and then I kept doin’ it when you didn’t mind, and at this point, if they don’t know to keep their hands to themselves, they’re too stupid to live anyway. Seireitei’s rumour mill’s spinnin’ just fine, last I checked. It’s their own fault if they don’t listen.”

He stops and examines Ichigo’s expression for a moment, then adds thoughtfully, “And I already said - I think you like it when I kill for you.” He searches Ichigo’s face. “You like it when I show you how much blood I’d spill for you. When I show you just how far I’d go for you.”

Ichigo makes a strangled noise, and he looks equal parts flustered and more uncertain than Shinji’s seen him since before he’d cut down Yhwach.

Shinji laughs under his breath, tightening his arm around Ichigo before the other can pull away. “Nothin’ wrong with that. I like showin’ you, so it works out.”

Ichigo scowls at him, but he stops trying to escape too, and after another moment, he sighs and slumps down to stretch out over Shinji. Then, as if to pay him back for the embarrassment, he digs his chin into Shinji’s chest with a vengeance. Shinji rolls his eyes and combs an indulgent hand through Ichigo’s hair.

Ichigo melts into it, and Shinji marvels at the fact that he gets to have this at all.

It’s not that he doubted it. The moment Kisuke bowed out of the running, they were always going to reach this point sooner or later. Shinji wouldn’t have allowed for any other outcome.

It’s still a little surreal though. He hadn’t even needed to expend that much effort into it, in the end. Or maybe he’s just used to struggling a lot more before he’s allowed to have the things he wants.

“Hey.”

Shinji blinks as Ichigo lifts his head to meet his eyes, and then closes them when Ichigo’s the one who kisses him this time, gentler but no less possessive.

Shinji hums his contentment when they part again. “What was that for?”

Ichigo shrugs. “Felt like it. And I can kiss you anytime now.”

Shinji chortles. “Trust me, Ichigo, you could’ve kissed me anytime in all the time I’ve known you, and I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I know; you’re not subtle,” Ichigo assures, a wry twist to his mouth before his expression shifts to something more serious. “But thank you for waiting. Thank you for deciding I was worth the wait.”

Shinji’s breath catches, and then he’s reeling the other in to kiss him again, and again, and again, chest tight with emotion that neither of them feels the need to voice, not when Ichigo’s reiatsu is heavy enough around Shinji to drown a weaker man, not when Shinji’s hands leave bruises in their wake.

“Hey,” Ichigo murmurs, grazing sharp teeth against Shinji’s bottom lip, the tang of blood in both their mouths. “Don’t you have work today?”

Shinji laughs, breathless and carefree, and tugs him impossibly closer. “My hard work’s finally paid off. I deserve a break. Now come here and kiss me again.”

He feels the curve of Ichigo’s grin against his own, and then that too is lost in the press of their mouths and the weight of their hands and the heat of their bodies, with none but the morning sunlight as their witness.

#bleach #shinichi #hirako shinji #kurosaki ichigo #myscrap

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cheshiresense · 3 years ago

Text

My last thingamajig from discord, I don’t think I posted this over here yet?? Hopefully not. It’s just another dead-end idea I had for a future arc AU. Ends right in the middle of the start of a conversation too lol, I think I got derailed talking about some other headcanon. It was probably hec’s fault. Anyway, might continue it one day, might not, who knows, definitely not me.

-0-

What if the whole future plot was never a thing? What if Lambo's bazooka was just malfunctioning again, dropped on Tsuna, and took him to the future where he wakes up in his future self's coffin? And doesn't return him after five minutes?

Tsuna wakes up underground, in a box that won't open. He panics and calls for help and pounds on the lid, and then he fights it all down because he's already wheezing for breath. Desperation makes him think. Desperation makes him strong. The flames that burst out of him slam right through the heavy stone lid, shattering it to pieces that rain to the floor. His nails are torn and bleeding, and he's shaking as he hoists himself out, but he's alive.

It doesn't take a genius to understand the X on the fancy slightly dusty box and what waking up in it means. There are other coffins all around him, set in groups of seven. His is alone.

It's been more than five minutes, and Tsuna knows something's gone wrong. He doesn't even have his gloves with him so he's relieved when a flickering flame sparks at his fingertips upon command. It wasn't a one-time thing so at least he's not completely helpless. Another thirty minutes pass, nobody comes to investigate the noise, and even Tsuna has to admit that staying here won't do him any good. So, reluctantly, shivering a little from the cold, he makes his way towards the stairs and cautiously ventures out of the crypt.

He assumes he's on the Vongola estate. The crypt was kind of a giveaway, and the large mansion aboveground is a pretty big clue too. But the whole place is empty, that becomes clear pretty quickly. Of living people at least. But there's scorch marks on the lawn and crumbling wood and stone and plaster throughout the house, and Tsuna has to crouch in a corner and breathe through a panic attack after the first time he stumbles across a corpse.

Eventually, he finds what he assumes is the boss' office. His office, and something about that - the knowledge that he became exactly the thing he doesn't want to be, and it obviously got him killed not even ten years down the road - makes something in him ache and burn at the same time.

Three hours later, he's all but torn the place apart. Several trial-and-error flashes of his flames unlock two hidden safes and a hidden room behind one of the bookcases that his Intuition points him to. They're filled with everything from weapons to books to money, and most importantly, they contain accounts - diaries of sorts - of Vongola Decimo's reign, written in Tsuna's own hand.

And he reads. He reads about Reborn and Timoteo and Iemitsu pushing and shoving him into the role they dictated for him until Tsuna broke and conceded. He reads about how enthusiastically Gokudera and even Yamamoto took to this life, how Ryouhei was happy with the fights he got, how Lambo was still a child in many ways, how Hibari was constantly unreachable and only turned up if Tsuna could bribe him with a decent fight, how Chrome withdrew more and more and never received new organs because there was always something more important, how Mukuro remained in Vendicare to this day. He reads about the decisions and concessions he's had to make to appease the Varia and appease the elders and appease his famiglia, and he sees the way the line in the sand gets pushed farther and farther back until it disappears entirely - no turns into no, except this one time turns into no, except these few emergencies turns into it's fine if my famiglia's lives are in danger turns into it's fine if my famiglia's pride and reputation is threatened turns into for the good of Vongola, it's fine.

Tsuna reads about himself, about this stranger he no longer recognizes, and he doesn't think he's ever met anyone whom he feels so disgusted by and so sorry for as much as he does this sad dead man.

Tsuna tries not to dwell. He has bigger problems at the moment than crappy future career choices, namely - if his future self can be believed - the disaster of a mafia war spanning the globe right now. The events that led up to it is like a train wreck - dying arcobaleno, guardians scattered all over the place as they try in vain to keep Millefiore's influence from spreading, and even a final assault on the mansion that Vongola almost couldn't fend off, prompting Tsuna to wave a metaphorical white flag and meet with Byakuran for negotiations for a ceasefire, only to never come out alive again.

Well, Tsuna could've told him that. Talking's all well and good, and Tsuna's the last person who would want violence, but this Byakuran guy seems to have no problems with killing and find it particularly fun to pick off Vongola piece by piece. He was very obviously winning, and in Tsuna's experience, people who have fun when they prove to be more powerful against their targets aren't all that interested when their targets beg for mercy. It just makes them bored. Tsuna learned that lesson with his bullies before he even hit his teens. Learned it too in the way Hibari never stops until his "prey" is unconscious or gives up on trying to run away entirely.

The fight, the struggle, is what thrills those kinds of people. And when they lose that, they lose interest, and while some are fine with simply walking away, Byakuran isn't a schoolyard bully, and Millefiore and Vongola were at war. Why Tsuna's future self thought that meeting would end any differently, Tsuna honestly has no idea.

There's no point frustrating himself over it now though. He can't stay here forever, even if it does feel safer than leaving the compound, despite the dead bodies. Obviously, there's no account of it, but the evidence is clear - after Tsuna's death, there must've been at least one more attack on the estate, and that one definitely breached the walls once and for all. He doesn't know how many people were part of the Vongola Famiglia but it seems a good chunk of them were killed, and the rest were either taken hostage or they were forced to go on the run.

It's probably been at least a few months since then. He found the kitchens earlier and most of the food's gone bad. There's dried blood and dust everywhere, and it smells pretty terrible too. Staying here isn't an option, no matter how tempting it is. He needs to find a way to go home, and while staying put and waiting for the bazooka's powers to run out or for someone back home to figure out how to switch him back sounds good in theory, his luck's never been that great, and he'll probably starve to death before that happens.

He's careful about packing. He's probably not coming back, and Reborn's lessons are at least good for something. Non-perishable food, weapons, money, a couple changes of clothes that won't stand out - essentials only, and one bag, as light as he can make it so it won't hamper his movements. He has less food than he likes but hopefully he'll be able to buy stuff along the way.

It's a little skeevy, looting the dead, but desperate times.

Once he's as prepared as he thinks he can get, he ends up sneaking out the back. His Intuition tugs him away from the broken front gates so maybe Millefiore is monitoring that somehow. Nobody ambushes him as he leaves, and Tsuna doesn't look back as he picks a direction and starts walking.

Tsuna doesn't actually have any more of a plan out here than he did back in Vongola. Don't Get Caught, of course - even ten years younger, people who know him will probably recognize him, so he keeps his hood up and tries to walk like he's exactly where he's supposed to be. He makes his way into a town, and it's maybe a bit too quiet for comfort, it's citizens keeping their heads down like him even as they go about their day. It's probably not a good idea to linger so he only passes through. By the time night falls, he's in some stretch of forest again, and again, he - grudgingly - sends up thanks for the survival training Reborn put him through as he goes about gathering bits of wood and starting a fire, and then - grimacing - kills a bird for food. He doesn't really want to dip into the non-perishables if he doesn't have to. There wasn't a whole lot of it to begin with, and he couldn't take all of what there was anyway.

He thinks as he eats, pulling out one of his future self's secret leather notebooks that he found alongside the diaries. It's a list of Vongola safehouses around the globe, and there's even a couple maps tucked inside. He supposes he could continue hiding and wandering through Italy until the others fix the bazooka but... it's been over half a day and he's still here. And the longer he stays in Italy, the more danger he'll be in.

There is apparently a safehouse - three safehouses actually - in Japan, one very close to Namimori. His first instinct is to go there but... what if the airports are monitored? It's why he's avoided buying things so far. Reborn's warned him more than once that people have ways of tracking transactions. Paying with cash is best but that's not really going to help him if there are cameras in the area or even actual people stationed there.

Besides, even if he manages to get to Japan, then what? What if the safehouse is empty? He doubts he'll just be able to walk in, and whatever passcodes he'll need haven't been written down. Even worse, what if he gets there and the place has already been compromised? Namimori is known Vongola territory after all. If it was Tsuna, he'd probably at the very least keep a close eye on the place.

So on one hand, if he heads for Japan and actually makes it, he'll at least be in a country where he won't be foreign, and the language would be familiar. On the other, he's never actually been out of the Namimori area so if the safehouse there has been compromised, he'll be stuck in the same situation as he is here - wandering around and avoiding civilization. It doesn't seem particularly smart to risk the trip just for the possibility of dubious safety.

Besides, there are safehouses right here in Italy too, and as far as he knows, nobody's aware of his presence yet. So, alright, he'll stay here, make his way to a safehouse that hopefully will be either empty or filled with allies who would recognize him, find a way inside, and then just stay there until he's taken back to his own time.

Easy.

(Yeah, right.)

But it settles something in him, to at least have a semi-concrete plan to work towards now. As he rolls out a thick blanket and settles down for sleep though, his thoughts turn - not for the first time - to his... friends. Guardians. To be honest, they sounded more and more like subordinates the longer his future self was boss. If he's honest, he's not that surprised that Hibari never really came to respect him. He's too passive and meek, he doesn't like fighting, and in a straight-up fight without his Flames, he could never stand on equal footing with Hibari, let alone defeat him. Maybe his future self can, but if bribery is still the only way to get future Hibari to listen at all, then obviously nothing much has changed in ten years. Maybe it even got worse. At least his time's Hibari would help out if their home was threatened, and he was willing enough to see the entire Varia confrontation through to the end when he didn't necessarily have to. Future Hibari doesn't even live in Italy most of the time, and he only takes Tsuna's calls when he wants to.

Then there's Gokudera and Yamamoto and Ryouhei and even Lambo. They respected his title and followed his lead but... only when he acted like the mafia boss that Gokudera has always expected him to be. There was something terribly distant and lonely when his future self wrote about them, about the blood and bodies that piled up under their names, about Lambo's age which had never stopped troubling him.

And then there's Mukuro, and Chrome. Chrome, who technically should've been living in the Vongola mansion but made herself scarce half the time, only showing up to hand in her reports, never quite one of them, never quite accepted by the other Guardians. And Mukuro, who carried the brunt of Tsuna's infiltration missions (infiltration missions for fuck's sake) and - after the first handful of times when future Tsuna wrote about his plans to trade with the Vindice for Mukuro - was regarded with more and more detachment and indifference over the years than any kind of genuine care, more a resource by the end than friend or Guardian or even ally, held at arms' length because nobody in Vongola trusted him or wanted him, just a necessary evil they had to put up with because he was good at what he did, and eventually, because Tsuna was Vongola, he stopped seeing Mukuro as a person too.

To be frank, Tsuna honestly doesn't understand how he managed to become this ten-year-later version of himself. He had an entire mafia family under his command, Vongola Decimo, the capo di tutti capi, and undoubtedly more powerful than Tsuna is now, but...

But all Tsuna can think as he recalls everything he read is this man was weak. Even weaker than me.

It's a bitter realization, but Tsuna thinks his future self stopped fighting a long time ago. He may have been killed ten years down the line, but perhaps the death that had really mattered had already happened years and years ago.

Either way, he doesn't know where his future Guardians are. They probably haven't been captured or killed. At the very least, Lambo will live to at least twenty-five, and the very idea of Hibari kicking the bucket is foreign to him, plus he was probably in Japan when Tsuna's future self was killed and when the Vongola mansion was attacked. And Mukuro is technically still in Vendicare but - if he hasn't jumped ship yet - he's also possessing someone in Byakuran's ranks. With Tsuna's future self dead, Tsuna's not sure why Mukuro would still be following orders, but then Tsuna's also not sure why Mukuro's followed orders for the past ten years, so what does he know?

As for Chrome and Gokudera and Yamamoto and Ryouhei - hopefully they made it to somewhere safe. Maybe they regrouped with Hibari in Japan since Italy's obviously no longer safe for them.

There's no telling for certain though, so the best thing for Tsuna to do now is to get some sleep and then head for a safehouse. With any luck, maybe the bazooka will transport him home before trouble finds him.

-0-

Fast forward a week or so and Tsuna is settled inside an underground safehouse in the middle of nowhere that he only found because of his Intuition. As it turns out, the locks are apparently keyed to his Flames somehow so it didn't take more than a few minutes to get in. The place is empty but well-stocked, and there are more weapons, training rooms, meeting rooms, and more computers and other tech than he can count.

First order of business - a hot shower.

Then, while he devours an instant meal of mashed potatoes and chicken, he goes about learning the functions of the safehouse. It takes him a while but he doesn't stop until he's figured out how to bring the security up to maximum level. Hidden sensors five miles out will warn him if anyone breaches that perimeter, and the entire defensive system is ready for the apocalypse.

Tsuna has learned that there is no kill like overkill in the mafia.

-0-

Over the next month, Tsuna doesn't leave the safehouse. The place is fully stocked with frozen packages of food, more toilet rolls than he knows what to do with, and even everything from books to board games to office supplies. His English is only passable and his Italian mostly consists of numbers and colours and weather, so with nothing better to do, he sets about bettering himself in both.

He honestly doesn't expect to still be here after a month. A month. A week, maybe two tops. But a month? How have they not fixed the bazooka yet? Can it not find him anymore because he left the crypt? But that's not how it works - Lambo ran around all the time when he was switched.

Did they give up because they couldn't figure it out?

Tsuna's tried not to worry because he has a bad habit of stressing himself out and overthinking things, and if he lingers too long on his situation, he starts feeling queasy and stupidly lonely.

But a month passes, and even the music collection he found can only stave off the silence and anxiety for so long.

There are surveillance cameras connected to the safehouse. Five of them monitors various parts of the Vongola estate, and it was apparently a very smart move to get out while he still could because once a week like clockwork, a patrol of mafiosi dressed in white - Millefiore men - sweep in with weapons in hand, making sure Vongola hasn't come back. It's a good thing Tsuna put the office back into place before he left.

There's another two cameras at the Varia mansion, and while parts of the place are in dire need of reconstruction, Tsuna has seen the entire Varia core - minus Mammon - coming and going. The security is as tight as Tsuna's safehouse, and the place looks more like a fortress than a sprawling estate. Tsuna considers contacting them, the computers here could do it, but an unknown number might not get through, and Tsuna wouldn't know what to say anyway. Please come save him? Even if the Varia agreed, which Tsuna is rather doubtful of, their relationship with his future self was little more than mutual distrust and grudging tolerance, they'd probably take him back to their mansion, and he'd end up doing whatever they wanted. Majority rules after all. He's fine for now, just a little bored and increasingly concerned by the day, so unless it's an emergency, he'll leave the Varia alone.

Two more cameras take him to Japan, not to any of the safehouses but to CEDEF headquarters, which Hibari apparently insisted on moving to the outskirts of Namimori. Future Tsuna obviously agreed, as if he could stop Hibari anyway, and Tsuna at least has confirmation now that Hibari - and Kusakabe - are alive and well and even drinking tea. They're in hiding but not in any immediate danger. Gokudera, Yamamoto, and even Ryouhei have all passed through a couple times so they're all alright too, even if they looked tired and stressed on screen.

Tsuna very seriously considers contacting them. Hibari would probably refuse but the other three would probably jump on the first plane to Italy to retrieve him, even if they weren't exactly close friends anymore in this future, they were loyal, and that's the problem. Tsuna doesn't want them putting themselves in danger when he doesn't really need them. Better for them to concentrate on protecting themselves than be distracted by the news that their dead boss' younger self is on his own and stuck in the future.

So, in the end, there's little he can do but stay put and check in on the people he's semi-familiar with when he can.

-0-

In the end, it's Chrome who changes the status quo. The alarms start blaring early one morning, and Tsuna is trying to hop into some pants and run to the surveillance room at the same time. His shirt hangs open and his hair is even messier than usual but if he's about to be attacked, there are more important things. At least they didn't catch him in the shower.

He pulls up the screens and sees... nothing. But something tripped the flame sensors, and after a minute of fiddling with the flame detectors, he catches a Mist signature making a beeline towards the safehouse from the right.

Shit.

Even though a part of him wants to set off the traps dotting the area, he can't help but wonder if maybe whoever approaching is an ally. His Intuition isn't warning him of danger, and if he does set off the traps, it'll be noisy and might draw attention. So instead, he decides to wait and see if whoever it is will be able to pass the Flame key on the safehouse entrance. There's a bunch of other locks in place now so even if they get past that, they still won't be able to get in. And if they start trying to force their way in, Tsuna will know it's probably an enemy.

Still, he goes and fetches a gun. He still feels safer with fistfuls of Flames, but he's also been training himself in other weaponry over the past month, and holding a gun doesn't feel quite as awkward as it did before he arrived in this future.

Boredom really is the mother of productivity. Or something.

He keeps an eye on the screens and watches the shapeless blob of Mist stop right in front of the entrance. If nothing else, whoever it is obviously knew where this place is. A moment passes, a flash of brighter indigo briefly lights up the screens, and... yes, they're keyed in.

They try to enter, and of course, the safehouse doesn't let them. Tsuna makes no move to let them in. They may be keyed in but he still doesn't know who it is.

The Mist blob wavers, and then turns to look directly at one of the cameras trained on them, and their Flame cloak slides away, revealing-

"Chrome," Tsuna says out loud, and he's reaching to unlock the door before he catches himself.

But what if it's just another Mist pretending to be her?

Ugh, the mafia's made him paranoid. But the question stands.

When the entrance still doesn't open, Chrome seems to at least guess what the problem is. She frowns a little, then closes her eye for a long minute, and then-

A familiar feeling jolts through Tsuna in the next moment, and he knows what he'll see even before Chrome's eyepatch fades away and both of her eyes open to reveal mismatched red-and-blue. It's still Chrome's face and Chrome's body instead of the usual full takeover Tsuna is used to but there's no doubt who's behind the driver's seat at the moment.

"Tsunayoshi-kun," Mukuro says mildly, and something about his automatic smirk is more forced than normal. "I do believe at this age, you still recognize my Flames. Be a darling and let my Nagi in, would you?"

Tsuna's already tapping out the sequence to unlock the doors, and then he's racing off towards the entrance to meet them. He skids into the right hallway just as the last lock whirs open, and then he's lunging forward to catch his adult Mist Guardian just as she- he- they pitch forward, completely out cold.

Chrome is pretty light (too light, she's obviously not been eating enough). As an adult, she's an inch or two taller than Tsuna now but it's still easy enough for him to carry her to one of the empty bedrooms. Her clothes are dirty and slightly tattered but Tsuna figures it's better to just wait for her to wake up and change herself than for him to do it. He can always wash the sheets later, and at least it doesn't look like she's bleeding from anywhere.

It takes two days for Chrome to wake up. Tsuna alternates between pacing, flitting in and out of Chrome's bedroom, and pointlessly checking for the umpteenth time that he has drinks and meals ready for when she needs them. So the second her eyes flutter open, Tsuna has a pitcher of water and a full glass on the nightstand while he tries not to hover.

Chrome sits up with a quiet groan, one hand pressed to her head like she has a headache. Her single eye glances up at him, then she makes a grabby motion at the water. Tsuna hastily hands over the glass, and she downs the whole thing in three gulps.

"If you want a shower," Tsuna tentatively suggests. "I can have food ready when you come out?"

Chrome looks at him again, still silent and closed off, but she nods after a moment, and Tsuna is just thankful he can do something for her. She's not injured but she's still practically skin and bones. You'd think after ten years, someone would've put her on a better diet.

Then of course he remembers his future self never got around to finding actual organs for her, and that might have something to do with her lack of healthy eating habits, and he winces.

By the time Chrome finds him in the kitchens, hair damp and dressed in a new white shirt and suit pants because that seems to be the only outfit choice around here, Tsuna has the table laden down with food but he also pushes the chicken broth in her direction first. Hopefully that won't be too heavy for her.

To his surprise, Chrome actually sends a small fleeting smile in his direction before digging in, and Tsuna finally relaxes enough to cautiously pull up a chair across from her.

"So, um, how are you feeling?" He asks once she's finished most of the broth. "And how's Mukuro? What- What happened? And how did you know I was here?"

#khr #sawada tsunayoshi #rokudo mukuro #dokuro chrome #myscrap #headcanon #when your future self is more of a disappointment than you verse

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cheshiresense · 3 years ago

Text

[Last Time on Stunted Empathy]

Mizuiro pov..

-0-

Mizuiro holds his tongue for two weeks. Two weeks after the new girl transfers into their class and starts following Ichigo around (tsundere fangirl? stalker??), he finally can’t help asking plaintively, during one of the increasingly rare moments she isn’t with them, “What’s so good about her?”

Sure, she’s cute and delicate-looking, with a firecracker temper when she thinks no one but Ichigo is around, and she sticks out the way all new faces in a school tend to stick out when they first arrive, especially when they’re pretty, but when has Ichigo ever cared about stuff like that? And yet he tolerates her presence in a way Mizuiro hasn’t seen him do with any other girl before, even the ones brave enough to confess their crushes.

Still, if that was all, well, Mizuiro would probably still complain, but it would also be understandable. Who knows, maybe Ichigo finally wants a girlfriend, and Kuchiki is his type. But it’s not just that, because on top of it all, this girl is weird.

She has no background. It was the first thing Mizuiro checked the moment she started hanging out with them. Her ID is fake, her transfer papers are fake, and her life history is flimsier than soggy tissue. For all intents and purposes, Kuchiki Rukia does not exist.

And as if that wasn’t suspicious enough, she’s also taken to hanging all over Ichigo like white on rice. She doesn’t act like she’s got a crush on him, or even remotely likes him. She wants something from him - that much is obvious - but she also stares at him with a complicated cocktail of curiosity and wariness, a pensive sort of apprehension and an intrusive kind of interest, and just a dash of fear to top it off.

Mizuiro doesn’t like it. In his opinion, if you’re normal enough, dull enough, to be afraid of Ichigo, then you have no business hanging around him and wasting his time.

To be perfectly honest, Mizuiro would’ve already gotten rid of this girl if not for the fact that Ichigo hasn’t given the okay yet, implied or otherwise. And it’s frustrating, because this time, Mizuiro doesn’t even know why. For all intents and purposes, Kuchiki is exactly the type to annoy the hell out of Ichigo, if for no other reason than because she’s an unnecessary complication in Ichigo’s life.

Kurosaki Ichigo has never liked being involved in any complicated issues that could force him to waste time dealing with it. That’s something Mizuiro has known from almost the very beginning of their acquaintance, and it’s also something Mizuiro has always taken pride in, because Ichigo doesn’t suffer fools, and to this day, sisters aside, only Mizuiro has managed to stay in Ichigo’s good graces.

He’s aware that most of the student populace regard him with either envy or fear, sometimes tangled up in a layer of awe, for the sole reason of being Ichigo’s one and only friend. The former is reserved for those who only see the surface, who like Ichigo’s good looks and good grades and good athletic ability. The latter is for those who’ve at least glimpsed a little of what Ichigo is like behind the introverted honours student persona, and they all side-eye Mizuiro like they don’t understand why he isn’t afraid to walk around in such close proximity with Karakura’s scariest monster.

(Mizuiro doesn’t quite know how to explain without sounding like a complete sociopath that he’s never been afraid of Ichigo because the worst Ichigo will ever do to him is kill him slowly, but the thing Mizuiro is most afraid of isn’t pain or death. The thing he’s most afraid of is boredom, and the thing he’s second most afraid of is being left behind, neither of which he’ll ever have to worry about when it comes to Ichigo so long as he remains useful and loyal.)

So he’s well-known as Ichigo’s only friend, but he’s also well aware that Ichigo doesn’t have friends. However, Mizuiro’s probably the closest Ichigo will ever get to one, three steps left of subordinate and trusted as much as Ichigo trusts anyone, and Mizuiro clings to that with a jealous ferocity that he’d literally kill to keep.

He needs friends about as much as Ichigo does, which is not at all. But he’d been curious about Ichigo from the moment he’d realized that a boy barely into his teens could have an entire town under his thumb if he didn’t find it so troublesome, and he’d admired him from the moment he’d seen firsthand exactly how murderously far Ichigo is willing to go for those under his protection. Both those opinions had cemented the day some unfortunate yakuza had gotten it into their heads that Mizuiro made for an easy target to get at Ichigo, only for them to disappear before Mizuiro could even stop chortling hysterically about it long enough to ruin their credit scores. Those same yakuza had been fished out of the river days later, in pieces, Ichigo had carried on like nothing had happened, and Mizuiro had known then that he’d burn his own family to the ground on Ichigo’s say-so, because for someone like him, last in a long line of siblings and cousins, relegated to grunt-work when they remember him and forgotten the rest of the time, Kurosaki Ichigo is nothing short of miraculous.

There’s something not quite normal about Ichigo, he doesn’t tick the same way as most humans, but the same could definitely be said of Mizuiro, who's never been able to muster up any true attachment to anyone until he’d met Ichigo, so really, it’s no wonder the two of them get along.

But nowhere in this equation does some random girl factor in, and bottom line, the point of the matter is, Mizuiro has never had to share his place in Ichigo’s life with anybody before, and he isn’t about to start now.

Two weeks is really all he can tolerate of Kuchiki Rukia. No one’s ever accused Mizuiro of being nice.

Ichigo glances over from where he’s lounging against the metal fence of the rooftop that they’ve long since claimed as their own. He’s finished his lunch, and now he’s just reading a book to while away the rest of the hour before afternoon classes. For once, Rukia isn’t around, having been kept back by a teacher who wants to go over some of the curriculum with the new transfer student.

“Not much, that I’ve seen,” Ichigo says after a moment of detached consideration, much to Mizuiro’s relief. At least it doesn’t seem like he’s being replaced. Ichigo shrugs and goes back to his book. “She’s related to the spirit stuff.”

Mizuiro’s eyebrows go up, and he instinctively straightens. “She’s- She can see them too? Those ghosts and monsters?”

It’s another perk of being someone Ichigo trusts. Ichigo doesn’t usually volunteer information first, but if Mizurio asks the right questions, Ichigo doesn’t mind answering either. And Mizuiro has never disbelieved him about spirits because Ichigo’s not the type to lie, and also what would even be the point? Of course, the icing on the cake had been the fact that the more time he spent with Ichigo, the clearer Mizuiro can see as well. He hadn’t been able to, at the beginning, when he’d asked and Ichigo had pointed at patches of thin air where ghosts were floating about. But three weeks after the first time he’d personally witnessed Ichigo fight something that had left him with bruised knuckles and a bloodied shirt and feral eyes that glowed yellow, Mizuiro had started seeing outlines, then translucent shapes, and then eventually those ghosts and monsters that roamed the streets of Karakura were things that he could see and interact with too.

Neither of them knows how that had come to be, but they hadn’t been particularly interested in figuring out the nuances of it either. Ichigo couldn’t be bothered, and Mizuiro was just happy that he could be a part of this parallel world with Ichigo. Aside from the two of them though, there are the twins, who can see a bit, and that odd boy from their class Ishida Uryuu, who goes around shooting the monsters with arrows, but this is the first time they’ve met someone not native to Karakura who can see them as well.

“She’s one of them,” Ichigo says curtly, idly flipping a page. “There’s a whole-” He waves a hand. “-afterlife society that you can apparently go to after you die, and some can become Shinigami, which are basically soldiers who deal with those monsters. Kuchiki’s a Shinigami sent by the afterlife government. I keep her around because she knows a lot about the spiritual world, and she’s my in with the local Shinigami authority.”

He pauses, looking like he wants to stop talking, but after a moment, he sighs and musters up enough energy to summarize the rest for Mizuiro - about Urahara, about the things he’s revealed, about Soul Society.

“Urahara...” Mizuiro echoes, frowning, and then pulls out his phone. It’s rare for him to have no information on someone who’s apparently this important. Even if he couldn’t figure out this shopkeeper isn’t human, he should’ve come across something that would’ve singled the guy out in some way.

“Don’t bother,” Ichigo interjects, his focus already shifting back to his book again. “He’s better than you.”

Mizuiro stiffens. Suddenly, Kuchiki doesn’t seem like such an eyesore after all. Who cares about some girl Ichigo is just using for information? He’s better than you. That’s as good as genuine praise, and Ichigo doesn’t praise anyone except his sisters.

Mizuiro stares down at his phone for a long minute, knuckles white. Then he forces himself to relax and looks over at Ichigo with a poison-sweet smile. “Someone better than me - how interesting. Can I meet him?”

Ichigo flicks a glance at him and snorts. “Do whatever you want. Idiot.”

Some of the tension leaks from Mizuiro’s shoulders. So not competition then.

Still.

These people have caught Ichigo’s attention. That alone means Mizuiro has some catching up to do.

Shinigami.

Mizuiro wonders what kind of lives they lead, and how much of it he’ll be able to ruin.

The roof door swings open and Kuchiki strides through, looking disgruntled and already opening her mouth to complain. Her gaze slides dismissively over Mizuiro like he doesn’t even register as a potential threat.

Mizuiro glances down at his phone again before putting it away and nailing on his most charming smile instead. If there’s no electronic trail to hack, then he can only do this the old-fashioned way. Fortunately for him, there’s never been anything wrong with his conversational skills.

#bleach #stunted empathy verse #kurosaki ichigo #kojima mizuiro #myscrap #urgh muse kind of hopped off into the sunset by the end

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