Falling in Love Backwards
Urahara Kisuke stood, looking over the rooftops, his coat flapping behind him and his hat pulled down especially low. It was evening. A full moon floated in front of him. The street lights seemed far below. Finally, a thin figure appeared on the railing, shadowy in the backlight of the moon.
"Kisuke… been a long time, ain't it?"
"So it has, Shinji. Ninety years, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Ninety years." Shinji lifted his hat and looked up. "You've changed."
"Well my, my. You not at all."
"It comes with a hundred years in the human world, eh? And you never were good with sarcasm."
"It's wisdom."
"Yeah, yeah."
They stood, faces cold, for several minutes. Urahara took a step. His sandals clacked sharply against the roof of the building. Shinji looked as if he hadn't heard.
"Why'd you leave?"
"Whatever do you mean, little Kisuke?"
"You disappeared, the lot of you. Without a word."
"Well… ya' know. Things come up."
Urahara rarely did not know what to say. The only times were with Shinji. He knew it was because deep down they were the same. Shinji was just better at being himself.
--
Kisuke and Shinji sat facing each other atop two rocks, alone in the expanse of the underground sanctuary they'd built over the last ten years in the human world. This place was magic for more than one reason.
"Why do you like doing things backwards so much?" Kisuke asked.
"Well going forward's no fun."
"What do you mean?"
Shinji didn't answer.
--
"You never did tell me why. Y'all disappeared the next day."
"Ya' wanna know that bad, eh? I suppose I owe ya' at least one answer. Well… I'd have t' think. I guess it's 'cause everybody else goes forwards. Go forward too long, you start to think like everybody else. Be like everybody else. Goin' backwards you get a different perspective. Be different. It's fun."
Yes, Urahara thought. It is. But only you can do it quite right. There was only one thing Urahara felt he had done backwards arguably successfully or not. He had fallen in love. Falling up and down and head over heels, he had tumbled straight into Shinji's upside-down frown.
Somehow he couldn't escape being drawn to him. There was something about them, other than being such the same people. They belonged together like. He'd tried to deny it. He'd tried to be different, but he could only change so much from the outside.
Kisuke pulled his hat down even further. He could never show his face after Shinji. He was afraid to give himself away.
--
AN: Such utter, utter crap.