It's been years since I uploaded to , bit sad there's still no author's note option.
Bleach ended and I thought about all the good memories it gave me; one of them was my first ever fanfic. Writing that fanfic had been the start of a lot of fanfic writing, original writing and Nanowrimo'ing since then and I'm a little sad at my past self for abandoning that fic just a few chapters in. So, seven years later, I decided to write it again - with the little bit of old plot I could remember and a whole lot of new. I'm a little rusty when it comes to Bleach fanfic, so feel free to hit me over the head if things feel off.
Even though it starts around the Soul Society arc, I'm writing this now with the knowledge of all arcs that succeeded it, so there will be some spoilers in the story if you haven't read further after the anime ended.
There was something comforting about the silence of the city in the late evening. It was almost peaceful without the chatter and noise that humans brought with them; there was only rustling of wind and isolated footsteps, the sound carrying far in the empty streets.
Almost peaceful, because he couldn't shake the feeling that something strange was going on; stranger than the past few months that this town had experienced. In his opinion, this place had seen its fair share of crazy lately.
A girl sped past by him, clearly in a rush. He paid her no mind; his attention was drawn to something else, moving in the shadows. He narrowed his eyes at it, as if that would help him distinguish the moving shape from the shadows of the night. The thing in the shadows must have noticed him, because it stood still. He sighed. He was getting worked up about nothing; but to be frank, he thought he was entitled to be a little on edge.
His mind sensed it sooner than his body did. Shinigami, two of them. He flash stepped away from the source, putting in a good few miles between him and their sudden presence. These were different from the reaper that had been patrolling Karakura Town lately; it had been hard not to notice him, with the way he paraded all over town, leaking reiatsu everywhere. That spiritual power of him was enormous and hardly in control. He had seen a glimpse of him once. Or rather, his huge zanpakuto. He had never seen a big sword like that before; not in its sealed state. It made no sense.
What were they teaching the youngsters in school lately? Ever since that reaper had come, it only attracted Hollows towards itself. Rather counterproductive. He scoffed. They sure were slumming, back there.
The reiatsu of two people was flaring, although one had a certain unfamiliar tinge to it, and then it was snuffed out. A fight between reapers? He was almost curious to check it out, but reason and instinct told him no . It was time to go back home.
It was quiet when he returned. Of course it was; at this hour, not many of them would be up. The kitchen however wasn't empty. The person occupying it leant against the kitchen counters, bringing a mug to his mouth.
"Shinji," the person said, greeting him before even looking up.
He grinned slightly. "Evening, Rose. You're up late."
Rose ran a hand through his hair, momentarily frowning as his fingers brushed past a tangled lock. He set his mug aside. "You were out late," he pointed out. Rose's subtlety was as graceful as his looks, and if Shinji hadn't known him for a while, he'd never picked up on the hint of disapprovement in his voice.
"Got distracted," he replied, wandering over to the kettle and holding a finger against it. Pleased to note it was still warm, he grabbed a cup himself and fished Rose's tea bag out of the man's mug. He sniffed at it. Not his favourite flavour, neither his favourite way of making tea, but it would have to do.
Rose simply took a seat at the worn table, watching him.
"I'm thinking of paying Kisuke a visit," Shinji said. He threw the tea bag in the sink. Picking up Rose's mug as well as his own, he joined Rose at the table.
"Why?"
Rose eyed him and pulled the mug closer to him.
He gave a shrug. "Nothing to worry your pretty head about, Rose," he drawled.
Rose let out a sigh. "Shinji."
His grin slipped away. "Nothing important, really. I just want to know if he knows more than we do. The things happening in town ain't exactly normal. Last week, we saw a Menos Grande. 'Cause of that new guy, I bet. He's leaving behind a freaking cookie trail for the Hollows to pick up."
"I noticed. There are odd powers at play here… types of reiatsu I didn't recognise. Human, but far stronger than possible. And I think I sensed a Quincy the other day."
Shinji blanched. "You're pulling my leg. They're extinct!"
"I know. Like I said. Things have been odd, lately."
He took a sip from his tea. He suddenly remembered something. "That's right, Rose… haven't you met a few of the surviving Quincy?"
"Hmm-hm," Rose confirmed. "If meeting them means the same as spying on them. I think they never even realised, or simply pretended we weren't there. Either way, it was an unpleasant situation. I had been fresh out of the academy, too."
"You'd think they used the special forces for that kind of stalking."
"I believe they had other matters to deal with. However, I cannot remember what it was."
They settled into a comfortable silence. With as loud as this group of people could become, Shinji appreciated these times. There were eight of them, including himself, and it was rarely quiet. He didn't mind them - not in the slightest - but sometimes it was the peace and quiet he needed, not the loud and brash company he was usually in.
The noise of rain tapping on the roof interrupted them. Rose looked up, slowly, then checked the time. "Come on," he said, not unkindly. "Leave your thoughts for the morrow."
His mouth twitched. "Didn't know you cared that much about little old me. I'll come soon. Gonna rinse out the cups first." He gestured vaguely with his hand.
Rose lifted an eyebrow.
"What's with that face?" Shinji complained. He got up from his chair. "You're not going to wait until I'm finished, are you? Go to sleep already, if you want to. Don't hover around me."
Rose just gave him something that could technically pass for a smile and left the room, leaving him alone.
Finding his old friend was harder than he thought it would be. He hadn't seen the fellow in years. Oh, he knew where to look; he had had a shop for at least a few decades, which he had visited at least a couple times. But when he remembered where the shop was located and arrived, the place was - well. Rather deserted.
Shinji looked up at the sign. It did read Urahara Shoten. This was where he should be. But there was no sign of life; the door was firmly locked and he saw no movement inside.
So he had come back another day without success. Trying another few days later resulted in the same outcome. He grew frustrated. Something was up.
However, Shinji could be patient if he wanted to - a skill he had practised and honed for the past hundred years - and foolhardy, and he didn't stop trying.
It was no less than the sixth time in two weeks that he passed Urahara Shoten. For once, there actually was someone in front of the place.
"Oi, kid," he called.
The child looked up. Shinji mentally dubbed her the shy girl the moment he saw her face; jeez, you'd think she was scared he'd eat her or something. Emerging from the shadows came another child, joining the first one; to his slight surprise they were wearing matching shirts. When did Kisuke turn this place into a daycare?
"Where's the owner? You're from this place, ain't you?" He said, gesturing towards the sign on the store.
"Who's asking?" the boy challenged him.
Shinji sauntered over to the pair. "An old friend."
The boy pointed his broom at him. "Yeah, right. I've never seen you before."
He grinned at them. "That's why I said old friend."
The boy didn't seem to believe him and approached him, wielding the broom as if it were a weapon.
"Jinta-kun," the girl tried to interrupt.
Right, the girl. He had forgotten about her. He might have more success with her than with the boy. The boy didn't seem to like him all that much. Perhaps actually being nice would help also. "Oi, do you perhaps know where Kisuke might be?"
He saw Jinta lowering his broom slightly.
"He's busy," he said. "Come back later."
"Ah, but I'm a customer. Surely you can't deny a customer your services."
"Shop's closed."
Urgh. Maybe he should have approached this differently.
"Look, kiddo, just get the boss. Or Tessai."
Jinta didn't seem to be all that impressed. "And I told you to come back later."
"But maybe we should - "
"No buts, Ururu!" Jinta interrupted her, threatening to hit her with the broom instead.
The door of Urahara Shoten opened; Shinji straightened his back.
"Now now, Jinta, Ururu," a man said. "That's no way to behave in front of a guest." He smiled widely at Shinji and inclined his head.
"Welcome to Urahara Shoten, Hirako-san."
He gave the man an unimpressed look. "Gee, Kisuke. Your memory's bad as ever." Then, on a more serious tone: "I've got a few questions I suppose you won't mind answering."
Kisuke still smiled. "But of course. With the recent events in mind I had actually expected you earlier. Come in."
He made a noise as he followed Kisuke into the store, idly picking up a gaudy looking pamphlet, looking only briefly at it. Printed in red and bold it read 'smells like bad spirits.' He rolled his eyes and threw the pamphlet carelessly on top of a box, not bothered to read the rest of it. If this was going to be the new slogan for the shop, he and Kisuke were going to have a talk.
"I suppose you were busy, then. I can't remember how many times I've visited the place. I thought you packed up shop and moved somewhere else."
"Yes, I know," came Kisuke's cheerful answer. "We've got security cameras. Me and Tessai-san saw the video footage. I particularly enjoyed the part where you tried to find the back door."
Kisuke suddenly stopped and turned around. Shinji almost crashed into him. "We have no back door." His face was obscured by a fan, but Shinji was going to eat his tie if it wasn't hiding a grin.
"Get that thing out of my face. What exactly was so important that I couldn't reach you for two weeks?"
"Ah. I suppose showing is better than telling. You wouldn't believe me anyway. Come with me downstairs."
It was not an unfamiliar place for Shinji to be, but it was rather unsettling. He shoved it out of his mind.
"You redecorated," he noted. "What's that thing Tessai's working on?" He gestured towards a man with sunglasses handling a large object. It looked like a mirror of some sort, only ten times as bigger as a regular sized mirror would be, wrapped in something that looked like paper, but certainly wasn't it. Kido spells maybe, now that he thought about it.
It clearly wasn't finished yet; it missed a huge part of the frame at the top. Hang on...
"Is that - "
"We are building a senkaimon."
"Whatever for?" he exclaimed. " You are banished and me and the rest of us presumed dead."
"I don't know about that. You can't rule out the possibility they know you're in hiding, rather than dead."
Kisuke was right, of course. Urahara Kisuke was usually right. Shinji himself was pretty sure they knew. Some of them, at least.
"It's not for you or me," Kisuke continued. "It's for Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends. They're on a rescue mission."
"Never heard of him."
"Not by name, no. But I suppose you have paid attention? Two, three months at the most, a shinigami appeared with incredibly reiatsu but severe lack of control? The Menos? Other people whose spiritual powers suddenly spiked enough to be noticeable?"
"'Course I did. That's what I wanted info about. But why are you helping them? Why do they need help to get into Soul Society at all?"
Shinji put his hands in his pockets, watching Tessai walking around the senkaimon over and over, murmuring something. He briefly entertained the thought of trying to enter the senkaimon when it was ready. Just to see if he could. It was a stupid thought, of course. It would be his own death sentence. Still, he wondered. It was a tempting idea. Maybe it was a good thing; he had no trouble imagining Hiyori slapping him if he ever voiced these thoughts. Probably a well-deserved slap for once.
He glanced sideways. Urahara Kisuke had said nothing at all, but that alone was telling.
"You've gotta explain that to me. What do you need from - whoever they are? This town has gone mad, Kisuke, I'd like to know why."
The senkaimon, if anything, had only raised more questions.
"Naturally, Hirako-san! How about we'll discuss it over tea?"
Kisuke's cheerful attitude was back. He didn't trust that attitude one bit.
"Fine. If you'll pour me something stronger than tea."
Apparently, tea was all he was going to get. Perhaps it was for the best; he had enough trouble wrapping his head around the story without alcohol dulling his senses. It wasn't that he hadn't been paying attention; it was just all so unbelievable.
"Transfer of powers, huh? I knew it was possible, but I don't remember any shinigami actually doing it. That Kuchiki has some guts. I can't say I remember them as the most forgivin' of the noble clans. But the noble families were always a bunch of stuck-up - "
"Now, they weren't all bad. I'm sure Yoruichi-san would agree, if she were here."
Kisuke filled their cups.
"Humans don't usually gain powers like that."
"Ah, but Kurosaki-san is an unusual fellow," said Kisuke. "My theory is that Kuchiki-san's power transfer awakened his own. The power he possesses himself is so massive he can't get it quite under control, and as a result, it affected his friends."
Shinji sighed.
"Don't try to make me believe there's such a thing as human shinigami. The Quincy, fine. The humans, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. A human shinigami? That's just crazy talk."
Kisuke set down his cup. "Who says he is? Kurosaki Ichigo has Shiba blood in him."
He wanted to say a lot of things. All that came out however, was an incredulous "What?" as he was trying to fit the Shiba clan in the whole story. He quickly gave up. This was a puzzle with too many pieces missing.
"So it's just a bunch of humans running around. At least that's cleared up. What d'you gain from helping them?"
Urahara Kisuke wore an odd expression; as if he couldn't entirely decide how he felt about the whole ordeal; or more likely, how he felt about telling Shinji.
Then it must be something bad. Something dreadful and sour came into existence in Shinji's body, moved from his stomach to his throat, and remained there. Something was not right. The entire story was not right.
"I need them to succeed," he said. "It is of the utmost importance that Kuchiki-san is brought back to the world of the living."
He bowed his head.
"I admit I made a mistake. I wanted to get rid of it permanently and I thought I had the perfect opportunity. Everything was playing out just fine, until they came to take her back. The bad news is - I've hidden the hougyoku in her soul."
