I was bored. I don't know what to call this. It's when Isshin decides to spill the beans. On himself. Therefore, I call this fic:

Spilling Beans

Isshin swaggered, his bright red shirt and unshaven chin offering a spirit of goofy confidence.

Urahara walked straight and shrewdly, dressed in his usual breeze of greenish oddness, queer yet refreshing.

Green was good for one's eyesight, he claimed, with the air of a cunning merchant who's tasted fine sake for his entire life.

Yoruichi, for once, appeared to be decent.

Her long sleeved orange blouse and clingy black pants had an air of elegance, but her sleek patent leather boots and looped black earrings spoke of something else.

She smiled a lazy, almost feline smile, showing the edges of her pointed teeth.

"Kisuke, you obviously didn't see the need to dress up for today."

Isshin chortled, and Urahara fanned himself with an easy smile that was almost lazier than Yoruichi's. He laughed a laugh that would have been interpreted by outsiders as perverse.

"Ooh, Yoruichi-san! I doubt that the boy will even notice me, don't you think?"

Yoruichi let out an exasperated puff of air, and her eyes glinted yellow in the lamp light.

"Kurosaki. I was meaning to ask you this for a while."

The aforementioned Kurosaki raised his eyebrows in her direction. The woman was always so brisk and business-like, hence perfect for Urahara. But he'd never say that out loud, in case he went home with cat claw scratch marks down his arms which were in no way sexual.

"Yes, Shihouin?"

"The boy didn't know about you and your past, did he. One of those gigais from Urahara hid your reiatsu perfectly."

He scrunched his face up, pouting just a little for comic effect. It wasn't a question that could be asked, and it couldn't be answered either.

"You make it sound like I did something wrong."

A shadow passed over Yoruichi's face, making it darker than it already was. Her cat like eyes sparkled, and she looked up to the sky, showing her canines again.

"You didn't. He could be braver without you, and that's definitely a good thing."

Her eyelids lowered, and the two men looked at each other. Urahara cocked his head at Yoruichi, knowing all to well that she was thinking of Soi Fong.

Isshin sighed loudly and flamboyantly, throwing his arms back in great extravagance.

"It doesn't pay to get all angsty at the moment, Shihouin. I need all your support to spill the beans on myself to my part-hollow hollow killing boy."

Yoruichi shrugged, still obviously saturated with nostalgia, while Urahara kept his fan in his pocket with a smooth motion as they approached the clinic, his sandals clacking against the cement pavement.

Clack, clack.

Yoruichi's boots were somehow silent against the ground.

Isshin posed for an invisible camera, smoothing back what was left of his hair. He turned to the other two with a wide, confident grin, but they could tell with their well-trained eyes that he was actually a very, very nervous.

"How'd I look, eh?"

Urahara put a solemn hand on top of his green and white striped hat and lowered it, a sure sign that he was about to lie blatantly through his teeth.

"You look extremely manly, Kurosaki-san."

The street lamps were lit bright, like fireflies in the dark. It was eight in the evening, and Shinigami Daddy was coming home.

endz.

Ah, I acted on a whim. I wanted something different from the usual ichiruki fluff, so here is my attempt. I kind of failed to show the bond between the three (Isshin is kind of apart from Urahara and Yoruichi, right?), but whatever. I do hope you liked it.

;redcheese