A.N.: Bear with me for the long author note. But some things to keep in mind while reading:
This takes place in a universe where none of the fillers (read: any of the stuff that isn't in the manga) happened. This includes movies. So some things might go against what happened in those. Sometimes it will be on purpose, sometimes – because I haven't even watched that particular filler.
I'm (almost) up to date with the manga itself, but this fic is AU from near the end of the Winter War so there will obviously be changes from then on. I'll still use some of the canon explanations from later in the manga (e.g. (SPOILERS!) Isshin's past and even most of the Fullbringer Arc will stay, and I'll likely keep the whole Ichigo-is-quincy-to-at-least-come-capacity thing). But I'm writing this fic because I am very unsatisfied with some of the decisions Kubo made in his story, so don't be surprised when something I write will actually be the opposite of how it worked in the manga or so. This is why I write fanfiction! To make a version of the story that makes me happy.
I'd say it's a smarter-Ichigo fic, but I don't think Ichigo lacks smarts in canon. He just applies his thinking to different things/in different ways than I sometimes think he should. So that'll what change here too.
Yeah, it will end up with two guys together even if it won't get there for a while. So don't read if that's not your thing.
I'm posting the first chapter although I barely have anything more written, because I'm tired of having fic-ideas sitting on my computer and never seeing the light of day. This means that I am currently writing it and I will try to finish this up, but I know well enough not to make any promises by now. So consider yourself warned about that.
Prologue
It was hard to wrap his mind around it.
All of these last few months, filled with danger and training and adventures… No, all of his life, unknowingly to him, had led to this moment. Long before Ichigo had first laid eyes on Rukia and felt her sword pierce through his body, long before he had even been born, this story had been started by things entirely beyond his control. By Aizen's machinations, by Urahara's dangerous thirst for knowledge of things better left unlearned, by Soul Society's ineptitude in dealing with either…
He had become a shinigami, he had fought multiple enemies, trained and evolved, struggled against his inner demons. He had saved and he had killed and he had been forced to grow up and face some realities of this world that most humans would never even become aware of. And he had faced Aizen in the final fight as their last hope, their strongest warrior, the one to carry the fate of the entire world on his young shoulders.
And it all culminated in… this.
This being what? Victory? The end, the fulfilment of his duties? With his powers slowly draining from his body and the white cross of Aizen in front of him, it had to be both. But Ichigo could barely believe in either.
It felt almost too sudden. He knew he probably simply needed time to process the incredible change that just occurred. Just minutes ago, he had been fighting against the eradication of every single person in his hometown. Now he could feel reassured that all of his friends and his family were finally safe. But he also had to come to terms with what he had sacrificed for it.
It felt too meaningless. Aizen was dealt with, but Ichigo felt no satisfaction at the thought. The maniacal villain had been right – Ichigo didn't hate him. Oh, he felt hate towards him – for hurting so many, for playing with Ichigo's life, for the chaos and pain he had brought on solely for the sake of increasing his own power. But Ichigo didn't really hate the man the way he probably should have. Mostly he… pitied him. Ichigo couldn't help but feel like beyond all of his crazed megalomania, Aizen had simply been lost and lonely in ways that Ichigo, perhaps, was the only person to be able to come close to understanding. So how was he supposed to relish in his defeat? Or in the deaths of the man's "companions", of Tousen and Gin and even Ulquiorra?
It felt so daunting. It wasn't that Ichigo wanted people to be exposed to any of these horrifying truthss, but the idea that things would now just go back to the way they were before, like none of this ever happened, felt frightening. Because Ichigo knew that he had been changed, irrevocably. He might have never wanted to be special, never sought any of this out, but he wasn't sure he would ever be able to go back to what the real world expected from him, and it frightened him.
It was hard to wrap his mind around it.
As he stood surrounded by the rubble of the fight, with the sky itself seemingly mocking him with its ability to simply accept it was over and move on, he felt empty. The wind that blew through his hair almost felt peaceful and the cross glared blindingly white in the sun almost innocently. Ichigo continued to silently look at it even as he felt his melancholic bubble being joined by another.
He didn't need to look to see who it was. Even if the man hadn't been the only other person around, even if the familiar sound of the sandals hitting the ground hadn't been enough to clue him in, he would have known. It was just fitting, in some way, that it was Urahara Kisuke at his side now. The clown of a shopkeeper. An infuriatingly secretive, crazy man. The person that had once again proven, just moments ago, that he was the only one capable to always be five steps ahead of even someone like Aizen.
For some reason, it felt right that it was the two of them standing here together.
Urahara had always been there, Ichigo realized suddenly. At all the beginnings and all of the ends. He was the one that opened paths for him to do what he had to – sometimes literally, like to Soul Society or Hueco Mundo, and sometimes figuratively, by giving him the tools he needed to succeed, like when he had returned him his powers and trained him or indirectly let the Vaizards know they should seek him out (Lisa had once let that much slip when she was a bit too drunk one evening). And he was the one to pick up the pieces and explain things whenever one part of Ichigo's journey would come to a close.
And so he was here now – at the moment that was supposed to be the end of it all.
The redhead turned his head just enough to be able to look at that scruffy, unshaven face. For once, with the damnable hat not present, he could actually see the ex-shinigami's eyes without a shadow obscuring them. It didn't mean he could read the look in them, however. In a way, it was almost comforting. He didn't know what the blond man was thinking, and that was the norm for the mysterious shopkeeper.
Aizen might have been the one manipulating everything from the shadows, but Urahara, for sure, did no less to influence and control Ichigo's life. Yet Ichigo felt no anger or indignation at the thought. He had accepted this fact ages ago, back when the normally cheerful shopkeeper had bowed before him and somberly asked him for forgiveness. Even back then, Ichigo had known that the man only did what had to be done, and would continue to do so despite his apparent regret over the fact. The young shinigami had decided to trust that crazy mind then, even if it meant accepting he would be led by it to do things without being informed of them properly first. And that trust had never once wavered since.
Still… he wondered.
"Everything went according to your plan then?" he asked, almost casually. The older man actually looked startled and his eyes widened – both almost imperceptibly, but Ichigo was at least capable of catching that much.
"Kurosaki-san-" the shopkeeper started, but stopped when he saw the look in Ichigo's eyes.
"No, don't… There's no need for that," the substitute shinigami stated, flashes of the night of his return after saving Rukia arising from his memory, "I honestly only want an answer to that question, nothing more is necessary."
For a couple more seconds Urahara didn't move but just stared at him. Then he visibly relaxed again and his gaze moved back to the cross of the seal.
"Did it all happen exactly how I thought it would? No, not really," he responded with an unusual openness, "But… I guess you could say that I did have a plan for everything that happened. Luckily."
"Heh," Ichigo felt his lips, surprisingly enough, curling into a smile and the constricting feeling around his heart letting go as he finally felt some of the tension disappear. He knew well enough that luck had nothing to do with this. The only reason Aizen was sealed right now and not standing triumphantly over the world was because of Urahara Kisuke's ingenuity, forethought and thoroughness.
Just a humble shopkeeper indeed.
"Five steps ahead," Ichigo muttered mostly to himself as his own eyes returned to what was left of one man's desperate struggle for greatness, ignoring his companion's slight frown of confusion at the words, "Must be tiring," he added a little more loudly. The blond didn't reply, but the silence was agreement enough.