On a tiny street corner, in a bustling small town by a river, there is a tea shop.
It is a simple little shop, filled with soothing scents of natural tea and warmth from boiled water. There is a long counter lined with tall stools, behind which several shelves are neatly lined with glass jars filled with various teas. There is not enough room for much furniture, as narrow as the shop is, aside from a few wooden circular tables and chairs.
In the morning the curtains covering the windows are pulled back, giving view to the street and sidewalk. The door opens and closes so often, there is often a debate of keeping the door open. But then the tiny golden bell at the top jingles joyfully with each new customer, and the tune is one no one has the heart to stop.
He wakes up early to start preparing for the day. He dresses simply and with comfort in mind. He eats a healthy breakfast to energize him for the day and ties his long hair – the color of freshly fallen snow – with a plain ribbon at the base of his neck. And at precisely seven am, the doors open as the sunrise breaks over the horizon.
He sweeps the front, whistling a calm, cheery tune from his childhood. As people pass on their way to work, he waves and bids them good morning. They respond in kind, glad to see the friendly shopkeeper on their daily commute.
"Ah, young Ukitake-san! You are doing well?" A smiling man asks, tipping his hat as he hurries past.
"Very well, have a pleasant day!" He smiles, nodding his head in turn.
"Ukitake-san, Ukitake-san!" The voices of children call, and his smile widens as he turns.
Familiar tiny footsteps stampede down the street. A group of children approaches him on fast little feet, waving joyfully and scrambling to be the first to greet him. They are all wearing their school uniforms, lunchboxes in hand. One child, as they do every morning, collides with his legs. And as always, he is prepared to catch them by the back of their uniform before they fall.
"Ukitake-san, I got 100 on my test!"
"Ukitake-san, Ukitake-san do you like my ribbon?"
"Do you have any candy today, Ukitake-san?"
The last question makes him laugh, loudly, and he confirms that he does indeed. Their smiles are blinding. He reaches into the front pocket of his apron, which has the tea shops logo stamped on the front and distributes the treats into waiting hands. Honey and green tea, and as healthy as any sort of candy came.
"Now be sure not to eat it while you walk," he reminds gently and waits for them all to nod. They will likely be unwrapping their treats once they turn the corner.
"Off you go now before you are marked late."
He shoos them, swiping his broom toward their feet as though to sweep them down the lane. They laugh, skipping out of his way and drag each other down the street, waving over their shoulders.
"My, my... So dangerous." He chuckles good-naturedly with a shake of his head, resting his broom in the crook of his arm.
He watches the streets a moment longer before heading inside.
It doesn't take long for the shop to become busy. In no time the employees have arrived, greeted him, tied on their aprons, and started brewing teas and cooking sweets. By noon, they have sold over half of their stock of green tea. By three, they are almost out. And he can proudly admit that despite the heat of the shop, no matter the open door, he is enjoying every moment.
"Genmaicha, ready!" An employee calls.
"Oh! Here!" A customer responds.
"Mister? Ice green tea?" A tiny voice asks.
"Of course! Right here – and please, help yourself to a candy."
There is a routine to it all. The constant rush of the shop, and the familiar chatter of customers. Most of which were regulars, people that he had gotten to know personally over the years. And today is Wednesday, which would mean one of his favorite regulars-
"Ukitake!" A voice calls, and he grins. He finishes the current order, serves it, and washes his hands before rounding the counter to greet the young man standing by the door.
He, like him, had hair of unusual color. Though Jushiro felt that even his own hair was not as eye-catching. What unfortunate luck this boy had to be born with such bright orange hair.
"Kazui, where are your parents? I promised Orihime-san that I would make her a special cup of tea." He says by way of greeting, and the young high school student grins. Kazui awkwardly ruffles the back of his hair, shoulders shrugging.
"They said they would meet me here – I bet mom got distracted by the jewelry sale down the way."
Jushiro laughs, nodding in understanding. He places a hand on the boys' head, further tousling his already wild hair affectionately.
"Take a seat, I'll bring out some sweet buns for your wait."
The bright-haired boy nods in thanks and moves toward the only table left uncrowded.
And the routine continues.
Eventually, his parents arrive. Kazui's father, a tall man older than he is, with a strangely familiar scowl that suggests delinquency at a youthful age, and his kindhearted wife with her friendly smile. Kazui was a perfect blend of the two, both in looks and personality. And if not for the tell-tale signs of aging, his graying hair and her laugh lines, they could have passed for teenagers themselves.
"Oi, Ukitake." Kazui's father greets with a wave of his hand.
"Hello, Ukitake-san!" Kazui's mother calls cheerfully.
And he smiles, calling his own greeting to them before pointing toward their waiting son.
He could remember quite distinctly when he met the two. It had been one of the more peculiar moments of his life. Their son was a regular, often stopping by after school to drink tea and study in the calming atmosphere and had decided to bring his parents to the humble tea shop.
Being the friendly man, he was, Jushiro had gone to meet them. Only, he was met with startled expressions and teary eyes on Kazui's mothers part. They had both watched him so closely during their first conversation, that he almost feared he had done something wrong.
"You look… like a man we knew." Ichigo had told him before they left. "A good guy."
He understands that perhaps seeing him is like seeing a ghost. Although, it's still somewhat unsettling when they talk to him he is the elder among them. He doesn't try to stop them.
Since then, he had met many others.
Kazui is his favorite regular for a reason. Because he doesn't just bring his parents, allowing for plentiful and familiar conversation, but he brings his friends as well.
He brings a girl with wild red hair and a loud personality. He suspects they have known each other for most of their lives, for how familiar they are. And though she is loud, she is respectful. And he finds no issue when she joins him and sits beside him when he studies – although she has a habit of putting her feet on the tables.
"Oi," Is her familiar call, "any more Sencha?"
When she is around, Kazui spends most of his time pinching her into submission.
There are more friends he brings.
There is a man with wild red hair styled into a braid, much like Ichika – with so many strange hair colors, Jushiro is starting to feel normal. His tattoos are quite outlandish, and Jushiro can't tell where his eyebrows end or begin, but he is a pleasant fellow. The woman that joins him is petite, and the unique style of her raven hair is strangely familiar to him.
They had also met him with odd mixed reactions. The man, Renji, had stared at him as if seeing a ghost. While the woman, Rukia was her name, had openly cried. But they both seemed pleased to meet him, nonetheless. And he suspected they too had known the man Kazui's parents had spoken of.
They had asked his name, and somehow his name made them laugh and cry. That reaction he couldn't quite fathom, so he had just smiled. He suspected that asking might bring even more of an odd reaction from them – perhaps even something more pained.
And he feels saddened by the fact that such a well-loved man had left so many behind.
"Oi," Ichigo calls from the table, seated between Kazui and Orihime. "Ukitake – take a seat with us for a bit. Won't kill you."
"Go ahead Ukitake-san," an employee waves him away, "you deserve a break anyway."
He doesn't argue, knowing it is a futile effort and takes a seat with the bright-haired family.
"You'll make me lazy, Kurosaki-san."
Something about the way Jushiro addresses Ichigo always makes the older man chuckle and shake his head as if remembering something with abject fondness.
"Its perfectly fine to be lazy, Ukitake-san." Orihime chastises gently, brushing something unseen from Kazui's shoulder. The young man pouts, an expression his mother mirrors perfectly. They laugh.
"Rukia and Renji are going to be joining us today," Ichigo informs, taking a sip of his tea.
"Oh? Is Ichika-chan coming as well?" Jushiro's gaze slides over to Kazui, who is otherwise oblivious to the implication. Ichigo makes a sound akin to choking on his tea. He hides it under a cough. His lips curve into a smirk.
"Ichika is busy – some sort of test for school."
They collectively watch the subtle reaction of the young Kurosaki as his shoulders drop a quarter of an inch.
"Ah, but they're going to bring an old friend. I hope you don't mind Ukitake-san." Orihime clasps her hands together, looking sincerely worried that Jushiro might in fact mind. He shakes his head and smiles pleasantly.
"Of course, not – but I'm starting to wonder how many friends you have exactly." By now, he had met well over thirty – thirty – people through the Kurosaki's. And while it greatly improved his business, he was starting to wonder if the innocent family was part of a mob. The bald man, Ikkaku, and his strangely eloquent friend Yumichika could certainly prove that theory on their own. Though they certainly were not the loudest he had met thus far. Sentarō andKiyone had certainly won that position after quite literally flinging themselves at him over the counter before even formally meeting him.
Still, they were at least all a pleasant bunch.
"Oh, there they are!"
Orihime stood up, waving a hand in the air to alert the two entering the shop.
Renji ducked his impressive height ever the hindrance, under the door before raising his hand in greeting. Rukia stood at his side, waving exuberantly with a large smile on her face. They navigated through the small crowd and exchanged quick pleasantries. Rukia and Orihime shared a hug and whispered amongst each other. Renji tousled Kazui's hair and made a comment that had Ichigo bristling with irritation.
"Oh, where is-"
Rukia waved a hand, cutting Orihime off.
"He will be here. I think he just needed to…"
The group exchanged a look Jushiro didn't understand but did not try to.
"You say that like you expect me to not show up." A voice drawled, and they turned as a collective.
Jushiro stood to greet the new arrival, taking in his strange appearance and vibrant pink flower kimono draped over his suit. He extended a hand in greeting.
"Jushiro is it?" The stranger greeted.
A firm handshake, and an easygoing yet mysterious smile from under a wide-brimmed hat.
"Sorry – I meant to stop by and chat sooner. I'm not too late, am I Jushiro?"
.
.
.
Yes. Jushiro loved his shop. It was home, and it was the center of his life. He made friends, acquaintances, and joined a pseudo family because of it.
And through his tiny shop, tucked away in the far corner of Karakura, he even met his best friend. A man with a large grin, and a strange habit of wearing a flowered lady's kimono over his clothes.
.
.
.
Friends are a good thing, even if they tread a different path.
