Urahara Kisuke woke up to the sounds of a life he no longer had.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair and blinking blearily. For a moment there, he could've sworn he heard an angry voice yelling his name, sounding suspiciously like an ill-tempered short lieutenant. There had been children's laughter too, the sound of blows landing, and the gurgling of water… He shivered. Dreams never brought him much tranquility, instead unnerving him with their tendency to confuse and disorient. He couldn't stand the feeling of not knowing what was real or not, and he hated the way his thoughts trickled through his mind's fingers, leaving him with the knowledge that he had forgotten something his mind could never retrieve.
He shook himself and stood up, brushing the grass from his shihakushō along with the last vestiges of sleep. Sunlight filtered through maple leaves, and soft birdsong heralded the burgeoning blue sky. The smell of broth wafted over from the other side of the tree under which Kisuke had made his bed. He peered around the trunk to see a slightly dishevelled Tessai manoeuvring a pot over a fire pit.
"You're awake, Urahara-dono. Breakfast?"
"Good morning, Tessai-san. Thank you very much." He stretched and yawned. "Is Yoruichi-san gone already?"
Tessai brought out a ladle seemingly from nowhere, and set upon dividing the food. "I believe she said she was going to go explore our surroundings some more, see how Hirako-taichou and the others are doing."
"Ah. Well, while we wait for her return, would you like to go over some plans for our future? Hilltops are nice and all, but I do miss a roof over my head."
*
The Living World was an interesting place, to say the least. He'd been here before on assignments as a junior officer, but that wasn't the same as making his permanent home here. There was an underlying current to everything that reminded Kisuke of Soul Society, and yet the differences were undeniable, jarring even. Both worlds had a sun, for example. They shared the same general roundness and yellowness in colour. Kisuke could've sworn the one back home was warmer, shone more brilliantly. At night, the stars blinked at different paces, traced different paths and told different stories in the heavens. The air too felt thinner here, although he supposed that was due to the lack of spirit particles in the atmosphere. It had been over a week since he and his two companions had made their hidden way into this strange world, and he didn't think he could ever get over how muted everything felt.
The houses in the town they had taken refuge near were of simple wood and thatched rooftops, small and accommodating and dilapidated. Not all that different from those in the outlying regions of Rukongai, really. The hilltop on which the trio had made their temporary refuge overlooked a field interspersed with the wooden structures; dirt paths meandered through long grasses waving lazily in the morning breeze, and in the distance a ribbon of blue glittered like pearls. It was peaceful, Kisuke had to admit. If he closed his eyes for long enough, he could even imagine himself back on the cliff where he and Yoruichi had made their secret hideout all those years ago…
The soft pattering of footsteps woke him from his reverie. He opened his eyes, pushing down the surge of disappointment at the lack of walled courtyards and smooth-stoned towers. There's no turning back now, he told himself firmly. Don't look back. I can't look back.
"This isn't over, you know." Kisuke glanced over at his friend, in all her furry black-shaped glory. Yoruichi surveyed the landscape beneath them, and in that moment, Kisuke would've given anything to know what she was thinking. She turned to look at him, her bright golden eyes reflecting his own tired face. "This is just a new beginning, and Aizen'll be damned if he thinks this is the last he's seen of us.
"Yoruichi-san," Kisuke said jovially, "I believe that's the closest you've ever gotten to using a cliché." Yoruichi rolled her eyes, which by all means should have been an impossible feat by feline standards.
"A fish in a pond does not know the great sea."
"Actually, I believe it's a frog that's in a well that doesn't know the great sea."
"Shut up." Yoruichi frowned. "What's a frog doing in a well anyway?"
"Probably running away from your greedy paws," Kisuke joked, ducking from a swipe from said paw. It turned into a punch halfway through, and Yoruichi settled back into her cat form without skipping a beat.
"I'll come up with a plan," Kisuke said, clutching his nose, his tone serious once more.
"I know. But you know, Kisuke, there's no hurry, at least not right now. We have the Hogyoku, and we've settled Shinji and the others. We need to figure out our own future before planning our next moves against Aizen."
"Mm. Our friends are doing well?"
"Exceedingly so. Mashiro no longer craves human souls, and Hiyori smacked Shinji for taking so long to wake up. Near knocked him right out again. Tesssai's going to go bring them food and reinforce the barriers."
"Ah, Tessai-san. Where would we be without him?"
"Starving and freezing our asses off," Yoruichi said lightly. Kisuke closed his eyes in agreement.
They sat in companionable silence as the sun edged across the sky and the shadows retreated under the tree. Tessai's footsteps crunched down the hill, taking with him the smell of rice and broth. Kisuke reached over to his friend, scratching her absent-mindedly behind the ears. Yoruichi purred.
"100 years," he said suddenly. Yoruichi looked over at him but didn't speak. Kisuke had a determined, far-off look in his eyes, all traces of longing and sadness gone for the first time since their world had fallen apart. Her tail twitched, and he resumed playing with her fur.
"100 years," she said quietly. It was a promise.
They would bring down Aizen in the next century.