AN: Hello! Welcome to the home of miscellaneous one-shots and deleted scenes from the WTUD universe. I hope to bring more pieces in here as I write more – anything that doesn't fit in the flow of the story, or scenes that I want to show from a character's perspective who isn't one of the main narrators. I hope you all enjoy.
This first piece is from the middle of Chapter 18, so it's best to have read that beforehand. Of course, I don't own Bleach. Anthony and Ezra are loosely based off of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's Crowley and Aziraphale, (Who, I swear, practically wrote themselves) of Good Omens, which I do not own either.
When he opens the door of the clothing shop, a cheerful bell tinkles, and he sees a round face, framed by gold curls, look up from the counter.
"Oh my goodness,"
It seems like he's barely blinked before he's been ushered into a incredibly comfortable armchair and plied with cookies and yet another cup of tea.
"Ezra, you're smothering the kid," Anthony slides into the room, putting a lazy arm on Ezra's shoulder. Ezra barely spares him half a glance.
"Er, Hi?" Uryu finally manages to stutter out.
"Oh my dear," Ezra pats his head. "We've been so worried! You didn't show up for weeks and I thought something awful must have happened and, oh dear, you look dreadful. You're even skinnier than when we last saw you - you haven't been eating properly, I can tell - here, eat up, they're good, even Anthony agrees - and you look so pale - have you been sleeping?"
"Breathe, angel." Anthony drawls. Ezra swats him lightly, smiling.
"Um," Uryu takes a cookie - the way Ezra looks, he can't really refuse - and finds that it is, in fact, very good. (Much better than cold soup.) "I'm, uh, sorry to have worried you. There was an emergency. With a friend of mine. Uh, got in an accident. Was in the hospital for a really long time. He - she, uh, doesn't have any immediate family, so we wanted to - to stay around. Help her with - rehabilitation, and stuff, after she got out. You know. And, um, I'm really just here to -"
It's a terrible story, and he knows it, and internally berates himself for not coming up with a better one (what on earth is he going to do at school?). He can tell that Anthony has noticed by the way one eyebrow has quirked at him, but Ezra, who probably wouldn't recognize a lie if it danced a ballet on his nose wearing a neon pink tutu, puts an arm around his shoulder. "Oh dear! How generous of you, taking all that time to help a friend! I've always told Anthony-"
"So how's he - she doing?" Anthony asks, sardonically.
Uryu levels a faint glare at him, to which he responds with a slippery smile. "She's doing fine."
"Oh, how lovely! Well, it's all well that ends well, they say. We are so glad that you dropped by. I was just telling Anthony -"
Before Ezra can start talking about the goodness of the human heart, Anthony cuts in, "You were saying there was something you were here for?"
"Dear," Ezra looks at Anthony crossly. "There's no need to interrogate the boy."
Anthony holds up his hands. "I'm not, I'm just trying to give him a minute to talk."
"But -"
"Er," Interjects Uryu, who has been here enough times to realize that the two of them will quite happily go on like this for hours, "I was just here to ask what in particular I could sell you. If there were any styles or colors that had been popular lately. I'm just, uh," He finally chokes it out. "A bit short on cash, having been gone for so long. You know."
"Oh, dear," Ezra looks over at Anthony. "Maybe - ?"
"Whatever you're about to say, angel, the answer is no."
"But -"
"No. We can't afford it, not after the fifth litter of strays you insisted on taking in."
"But they're all so adorable and sweet and one of them just looked perfectly like a Oscar and -"
"Sorry, kid," Anthony glances over at Uryu.
"No - I don't wa" He corrects himself, not wanting to sounds rude. "- I don't need any charity."
Anthony shoots Uryu a lopsided grin. "I know, kid. Don't mind him." He points a thumb at Ezra. "I can show you some of the designs that've been selling out lately. We could use some new stock."
Once he's been dragged out of the armchair and behind several racks of clothing, Anthony finally turns and looks at him. "Okay, cut the crap, kid. Where've you really been?"
Uryu looks up, opens his mouth, tries to come up with a better story, and fails. Ichigo's told him before, he's a terrible liar. "Will you accept that you wouldn't believe me if I told you?"
Anthony raises both eyebrows, and looks him dead on in the eyes. Uryu doesn't blink. Anthony laughs."Well, I guess I would, at that. Who would have guessed it?" He shakes his head. "But listen, kid," Anthony runs a hand through his hair and looks at the dresses on the rack. "You see, Ezra's taken quite a shine to you. Well," He chuckles a little. "I guess that's not saying much, he does to everyone. But still, I mean, I know you don't have a lot of folks looking after you - and that's none of my business, I don't worry about you." He says when Uryu opens his mouth. "You can look after yourself, it's not my concern. But just don't get in over your head, you got it?"
blood and bars and blades - "Yeah," He replies, throat tight.
Anthony nods crisply. "Good. 'Cause no one wants to see Ezra upset, and he gets bent out of shape when one of the kittens gets the sniffles. Anyway," He coughs "Let me show you those designs. Oh, and?" He adds, looking back over his shoulder. "Make sure to take some more of the cookies, alright? Ezra's always harping on at me that you're underfed, and you do look like hell."
Uryu laughs, hollowly. "Yes, I know."