underneath it all

or "Kisuke has guilt issues. And angst issues. And trust issues. And he's much of a teenager, too."

Companion story to Meet me on the battlefield

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bleach or any of the characters present here. I also don't own the song that I used to name the story (Savages, by Marina and the Diamonds)


Kisuke shouldn't.

So, he took the opportunity and went through with it anyway, because when not?

And for the first time in his life, he didn't regret it for a second.

. . .

Kisuke had been aware of the eldest Kurosaki child since his birth, since his young reiatsu had washed over Karakura — too young, wild, untrained. Kisuke had been aware, but he'd never actually seen the boy until Masaki's death, when he stopped by to put a better seal in place on the children, to make sure he wouldn't die before his time.

(to make sure he wouldn't lose anyone else, he thought somewhat guiltily. At least wwhile he could keep his loved ones.)

But then, Kuchi Rukia was sent to patrol Karakura, and the boy was old enough.

(he'd never be old enough)

Releasing Kurosaki-san's reiatsu was easy, even from this distance — much easier than keeping it sealed, anyway —, and it worked instantly: as soon as the golden reiatsu was free, it flared like a flame, attracting every goddamn Hollow in the area.

Every one of the several, but Kisuke only needed one; he only needed a trap, after all, not the girl dead. The Kuchiki girl could not die yet.

(their Kurosaki hero could not die. At all.)

Then, the Hollows were dealt with, and Kuchiki was lying on his store, powerless and ready.

(and Kurosaki-san had burned so bright, gold reiatsu and righteous anger, and Kisuke ached)

Right, Kuchiki. He should get to work.

.

The perfect opportunity to present himself to Kurosaki-san came quite accidentally, however it fit him like a glove. Not one of his plans was as good as it happened, in the end.

Getting Kurosaki-san to keep the Mod Soul was a terrific side effect he'd not dared to hope for, either, yet there he was.

… And there he was. The boy… the look of the boy…

Kisuke refused to feel guilty now, not after so many terrible choices, not when he knew there was a war coming he could not avoid. Still, his chest felt tight when he looked at the boy — because Kurosaki-san was just a boy.

Just a boy, with so much weight on his shoulders, and so much more he didn't even know about.

… Kisuke refused to feel guilty.

(yet, he felt anyway, hidden behind his hat, fan and smirks. Guilty for everything he'd done to this boy.)

(for everything he'd still do.)

.

Kurosaki-san grew in leaps and bounds, leaving a line of dead Hollows behind — and it was amazing to watch, besides being exactly what Kisuke had planned for him. It was hands-on experience, and Kurosaki-san clearly grew exponentially from it, and it was great. He was growing quickly and powerful, and he was becoming so much closer to what Kisuke needed him to be…

But then the Quincy boy came around, bringing with him a Menos, and Kisuke feared it would be too much, much too soon. Kurosaki-san was good, but he was still just a beginner, and… And it… well. Kurosaki-san managed it.

Except — he managed it.

Something like that was bound to send all kinds of signals to Soul Society, and Kisuke knew it. Knew his time ran shorter by the day, by the second, knew that, soon (much too soon), his plans would have to be advanced…

Yet, when he finally felt a captain reiatsu in Karakura, he still felt dread, because it was too soon.

(it would always be too soon. Years… centuries too soon.)

Kurosaki-san wasn't ready. He wasn't…

But he'd need to be, Kisuke knew. Because he'd either be ready, or he'd die. And Kisuke simply refused to let the boy die.

(he refused to think too much about it)

Kurosaki-san would be ready. He wouldn't die, not here, not now. Not from a damned stab to the heart. He wouldn't die to Kuchiki Byakuya.

Kurosaki-san would survive, and be that much stronger for it.

Kisuke just knew it.

.

The view of Kurosaki, lying motionless and cold on his floor, would haunt Kisuke forever, together with all his others past mistakes. Still, this one felt like more, somehow. Possibly because he knew that, were Kurosaki to die, it would be his fault. It would be Kisuke's fault for such a young, bright kid to die without ever really living.

It felt… daunting. It felt like breathing ice, and failing Yoruichi, and creating the Hogyoku, all over again.

Still, Kisuke had never been one to stop just because of his mistakes, so he forced Kurosaki to wake up. Forced Kurosaki to face him.

Forced Kurosaki to die.

"You'll either get your powers back," he'd said, smiling behind the fan, because not even the fan was enough to hide him. Because he knew that, if he allowed himself to feel, it wouldn't stop. "Or you'll die."

And Kurosaki had nearly died.

(but he hadn't)

Kurosaki had nearly died, before any of his plans really coming to a head, and if there was anything Kisuke had learned from watching Kurosaki these past few days, it was that the boy would not sit idly while his friends died. Kurosaki would never sit by and let Kuchiki-san die.

And somehow, Kisuke was okay with that. Even though having Kuchiki die would make it all so much easier… He'd be okay with Kurosaki going to rescue her.

As long as he lived to do so.

.

After Kurosaki was finally back, back in the living, breathing world, his curious, unique mix of human, Shinigami and Hollow (with just a pinch of something more, Kisuke knew) right there in front of him, Kisuke felt it was time for training.

Which was how Kisuke realized he had a problem. Well. Another problem.

A… teenager shaped problem.

Kisuke knew Kurosaki was young, that much was very obvious, but he'd forgotten Kurosaki was a teen, in human terms, not a child. A teenager, full of hormones and sex drive.

Kisuke really should have seen it coming, but then, Kisuke had never really been a teenager, had he? What were hormones but a cocktail of chemicals?

Apparently, they were hard-ons in the middle of a fight, shivers when Kurosaki should be pushing, blushes that did not come from physical exertion.

It was so novel. It was stupid. It was…

(Kisuke resolutely did not think about it. Did not think about how he grappled the boy to the ground when he could easily disarm him at arm's length, telling himself it was for the experience and not because he wanted to. Because he wanted to feel Kurosaki under him, hot and living; the erection pressing firmly against his thigh. Because he wanted to touch…)

It as stupid. Kurosaki should know better, really. Kisuke was a terrible choice. A terrible man, even.

But then, he was a teenager, and Kisuke supposed he must get off to the high of adrenaline, if he jumped into battles so recklessly like that.

(Kisuke refused to wonder too much on his own part in that. Did he program Kurosaki for that, too?)

What mattered was that it was stupid, but it was also normal. Teenage, human normal.

(yet, Kisuke thought, I am neither a teenager nor human, and adrenaline has never been like that for me.)

(he chose not to pursue that thought)

.

The day of sending Kurosaki to his own possible death came too soon, but Kisuke knew it was either now or never. Either Kurosaki managed to prove his strength and prepared himself to the oncoming war, or Kurosaki would fail, and they'd be all doomed.

(but at least, the traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered, Kuchiki Rukia and the Hogyoku will be gone.)

(and, even deeper down, and Ichigo will never know what you've done. Never know about war, never know the true despair you have planned for him. Ichigo will never hate you.)

.

After centuries in the human world, Kisuke was experienced in getting news from Soul Society, just as if he'd still lived there, a ghost amongst their several souls, and it was easy to follow the pieces of information on Kurosaki's fights. Easy to follow Kurosaki's path of destruction and determination.

Easy to follow his blazing path of hope.

… And it was heartbreakingly easy to hear of Kurosaki's defeat, of the way Kuchiki Rukia lived, but so did Aizen, skipping town with his merry band of traitors.

Hauntingly easy to see how it affected Kurosaki, when he came back to Kisuke, when Kisuke went to get Kurosaki and his friends, and saw first-hand the sheer despair, the grim emptiness on their face. The shaky resolve in Kurosaki's eyes.

… it was disturbingly painful to see Kurosaki hurt.

(why am I doing this, he questioned himself later, as he bowed deeply, apologies heavy on his tongue. I never planned this…

(And he hadn't. He hadn't planned to ask for forgiveness he knew he didn't deserve. He'd made up his mind, long ago, that he would regret much too many things, but he'd do them either way. He'd made up his mind, when he'd held his old comrades and watched them die, and all he could do was taint them, that he'd keep fighting, even if it meant his life.

(Yet, looking at Kurosaki's face, at his broken shards of resolve, all he could think was, this is on me. And he'd never choose anything different, he couldn't, but still asked forgiveness. Not for himself, but for Ichigo himself, but to try and force some anger on Ichigo's face, if nothing else.

(… it was disturbingly relieving, how it worked.)

.

Kurosaki Ichigo was a man of many wonders, Kisuke had come to realize.

When Kisuke begged for a pardon he'd never hoped to receive, he hadn't expected to hear the words, "so train me, getaboshi".

Yet they did. Followed by several expletives, and much anger, and so much more willingness to let it go than Kisuke had ever expected that he hadn't been able to refute him, even when he knew he shouldn't keep training Kurosaki. Not anymore. Not now.

Yet. As Kisuke once said, he was full of bad choices and terrible doings. What was one more to the pile?

(and if it had anything to do with the lingering looks he received from Ichigo, the warm touches that would remain against his skin just a bit too long, then Kisuke refused to think about it.

He also refused to think on how Ichigo once stopped calling him Urahara at all, remaining firm on his stupid nickname even when they were alone. Even when they were with friends that kept chiding Ichigo out for it.

But, more than anything, he refused to think about Ichigo's hitching breath, Ichigo's flustered glances, Ichigo's flaming cheeks, Ichigo's firm warmth underneath him, gasping and straining to remain still even as Ichigo's cock pressed hard against Kisuke's thigh. He refused to think on how his own hands strayed too low, strayed too far, remained too much.

Kisuke refused to think about Ichigo's voice breaking, and more than anything, he refused to think that he might want.)

.

So he did what he did best. When things started becoming too much, he ran. And things were always too much, with Kurosaki Ichigo.

(too much temptation, too much warmth, too much hope, too much guilt, too much…)

Kisuke had done too many bad choices, already. He couldn't remain on doing them.

He'd already accepted to train Kurosaki, but he also had the perfect excuse; Kisuke was just a Shinigami, but Ichigo — Kurosaki was so much more. And their best match was just around the corner, and they'd finally showed some interest.

So, Kisuke smiled, and hid behind his fan, and told Kurosaki nothing about how he just couldn't stand him anymore, but instead told him he wasn't going to train him anymore, because he was too busy.

(yeah, he heard that same traitorous voice taunt him, pining)

He spilled lies, and grinned as if everything was alright, and just hoped the Vizards would take Kurosaki in soon, because it was too much too soon and everything was going to end sooner than he'd wanted. Kisuke waved Kurosaki away, and hoped that he'd find his way into the Vizard's pack, that he'd find another family to care for him, and another family to care for, and that he'd grow out of Kisuke. That he'd finally forget him.

(and, more importantly, he hoped he would forget Ichigo)

He laughed at Kurosaki's questions, pulled at his hat, and hid, even when his own body ran hotter at the idea of having the other so close by yet again, and resolutely thought no, never again.

And then Ichigo… Kurosaki was gone, and Kisuke could relax at last, but Yoruichi was there, and her grumble was just a breath too sharp, just loud enough for him to hear the coward underneath it, but. Well. Kisuke never pretended to be brave, did he?

.

When things finally came to a head, Kisuke was surprised to realize he was calm.

Kurosaki's princess was taken hostage, and Kurosaki was, predictably, going after her, and Kisuke knew all about it. He knew all about Kurosaki's strength, all about Kurosaki's fears, all about Kurosaki's failings.

He knew Kurosaki was going to Hueco Mundo, and he even opened the way to him and his friends, and, more importantly, he knew they'd lose.

And he was okay with it. Because this was not the time for Kurosaki to win. Not yet.

And Kisuke refused to think Kurosaki might die. He was much too stubborn for that, he'd shown Kisuke already.

So, for once, Kisuke did not worry himself to the ground after Kurosaki was gone. Instead, he planned, and he tinkered, and he made sure the Kurosaki family was safe. Made sure Karakura was safe.

While the children fought his war in another world, Kisuke protected their home, and planned on.

Aizen should lose at least part of his pet hounds this time, even if Kisuke knew Aizen himself would walk out alive. So, Kisuke needed to think about what they'd do about Aizen.

Once again, Kisuke knew, it would come down to Kurosaki Ichigo, their prized warrior, their only hero, their human-born savior. Kurosaki Ichigo, their symbol of hope, and their martyr.

(Kisuke laughed mirthlessly, staring at his own hands — some stains were invisible, yet they managed to be so much worse than any other scar he'd ever carry, Kisuke was surprised he wasn't bleeding black yet.)

Perhaps Kurosaki had gone out hoping to finally end this fight, but Kisuke knew. Knew it was doomed from the very beginning.

After all, this war had had an end from the moment Kurosaki Ichigo was born into this world. The moment Kurosaki Ichigo opened his eyes, screaming and leaking reiatsu everywhere, Kisuke and Isshin knew exactly how this all would end.

And Kisuke might regret many things, but he'd never regret anything more than that.

.

Kisuke knew the time had come before Isshin had come to him. He couldn't feel Kurosaki… Ichigo's reiatsu anymore, but he could feel Ichigo, like a tooth ache.

So he didn't hesitate.

For the first time in his life, Kisuke didn't think of his self-preservation first, but of being there for Ichigo.

Being there, just because Ichigo would need someone there with him, and Kisuke wanted to be that person.

He wanted to be the person who'd catch Ichigo, when he burned so hot he'd turn himself into ashes. He wanted to be the person there when Ichigo finally gave out. He wanted to be the person protecting Ichigo, when he couldn't protect himself anymore.

… He wanted to be there with Ichigo, even if he lost his life doing so.

. . .

And then Ichigo woke up, breathless and hurt, and Kisuke thought,

I shouldn't be here, after all

But he was, and he was wearing a gigai, and he'd made this choice long ago, anyway. He'd made this choice, and he'd decided he would not regret it.

"I'm alive," he heard Ichigo murmur, and Kisuke broke a little inside hearing the hurt mixed with the relief, so Kisuke moved closer, staring at Ichigo before Ichigo could make himself mad with grief.

"Hello," he got out — and then Ichigo's hand was closing around his wrist, and he looked at Ichigo's face and thought of despair and hope mingled together, of afternoons expended training, of a burning in his chest, and he let go.

The mouth against his wasn't completely unexpected, but the fervor behind it still took Kisuke slightly by surprise.

He'd thought… But then, when did Ichigo not surprise him?

. . .

Kisuke had many regrets.

He refused to let this be another one of them.