Chapter One

- A Thin Line-

Ichigo pulled angrily at a lock of his hair. His eyes were cross in frustration and he growled under his throat before finally giving up and raising his eyes to see that the man sitting on the floor eating sweet after sweet was staring at him, almost lost in space of thought.

The anger slowly dissolved and was replaced by curiosity. Urahara liked to space out at times, abandoning his homework and shifting onto his hands and knees. He placed his pencil in the middle of the math book and closed it before slowly crawling over and sitting on his haunches to stare at the blond haired insane genius. He wondered what was going on in the man's mind? He would like to bet that it was complicated, which was what Ichigo found so damn interested.

The dark shadow under his eyes made him look older than what he was. Ichigo didn't know why the man found it fashionable to wear the ugly striped hat and wished now that when he knocked it off his head he'd sliced and diced it to death so that it was unable to be worn.

Ichigo reached up during the midst of the man's thoughts and flicked the hat innocently causing it to slide off his head and onto the floor with a quiet plop. Blond hair fell forward into clear gray eyes that suddenly blinked and stared back at him.

Ichigo smirked. "Took you long enough, old man," he taunted.

"Ahhh, Kurosaki-kun, I was in my mind."

"I figured that," Ichigo said deftly reaching back to grab his book and homework.

Kisuke's eyes followed the movement, his eyes specifically falling to the flesh of the teenager's stomach that was exposed from the shirt riding up. How evil of him, what was the boy doing so close to him? Not that he really minded.

He snapped out of his delicious thoughts when a book was placed in front of him. "I'll do the work Jinta and Ururu didn't do in the back if you finish this for me." Ichigo looked at him pleadingly.

Those honey brown eyes were too tempting and Kisuke wanted to let the teen know this but instead, he took the book from Ichigo's grip without saying a word and flipped it open at the equations on the page. As soon as his eyes traced the book to the bottom of the page, he'd already answered the questions in his mind.

Algebra wasn't a difficult concept. It was all about adjusting to fit its needs. All math problems were about adjustment. If you could adjust there was absolutely nothing you couldn't accomplish. Now, if Kisuke put that logic to use, he'd have Ichigo in quite the position.

"Ahhh, trying to get out of your work, I see," he teased in a sing-song voice that caused Ichigo to roll his eyes.

"No, I want to get it done before I grow gray hairs!" He scowled and then leaned over a little too close for Kisuke's comfort. "See this, I tried dammit! I don't understand this shit." Ichigo was not amused by Urahara's taunts. He had tried, the bastard! He just wanted to rile him up. He knew it, because the sly smile on the man's face told on him. "You bastard! Stop riling me up," Ichigo elbowed him lightly in the ribs, getting an oomph from the man.

"Who said I was riling you up, Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo passed him a look. "Contrary to what Ishida likes to say, I am not dumb." He flicked the man in the nose and almost laughed when the man jumped slightly, shocked at his sudden playful demeanour.

Ichigo was hardly playful, in anyone's mind. It wasn't like him, he was cool, calm, collected, and he tried very hard to be boring. But around certain people, like Urahara, he got the strange feeling to be more himself. Which was why he had his glasses on his face rather than hiding them and squinting at the equations? Not even Kon knew he wore glasses. His family had even forgotten about the little detail and whenever anyone else came into the room, Jinta, Ururu, or Tessai - the glasses came off instantly.

Kisuke marvelled at this Ichigo. He'd been around for the passed few days and it always shocked him to the core to see it. But he didn't let on and yes, it was true, he purposely riled Ichigo up to get some tint out of his cheeks. It was the only entertainment he could have with the teen.

Damn Yoruichi and Isshin!

"Alright, perhaps riling you up is a lot of fun, you know. You get so mad so easily."

Ichigo glared at him and then huffed. "Please? I don't want to repeat freshman year! This goes on my final," he said annoyed.

The teen saying please was a curse. Kisuke was destined to help him at that point. "Yah, not a worry, Kurosaki-kun. However, instead of me just answering them why don't I show you a simple concept?" He suggested.

Ichigo was stunned he'd suggest it. "You're lazy; I didn't think you'd want to do that."

Kisuke laughed softly. The boy deduced that long ago along with everyone else who knew him. But Kisuke found that he could finish the problems in five seconds flat and it would do Ichigo no good at all. "There's a first time for everything," he said taking the pencil. "Clean paper?"

Ichigo handed him the notebook. Kisuke began to write a strange set of equations and then tables. He labelled each of them and Ichigo couldn't help but wonder where Kisuke developed such fancy writing.

"This is the way I see it in my mind, a concept I came up with a long time ago… it's where all basic math begins from and knowing that you can easily answer them all."

Ichigo sat close to him, listening to him and watching how he did the problem. For a moment he frowned and wondered how the hell this man's mind worked to come up with something like that. Then, Ichigo remembered that this man was the creator of that infamous Hougyoku. How does one come up with such concepts?

"Alright, I think I get that," Ichigo admitted.

Kisuke put down three trial problems and handed it to him to try on his own and he watched the teen's messy handwriting go across the page with a slight fondness. Ichigo was sure acting a little strange, Kisuke thought remembering his hat was still on the floor and it was conveniently behind Ichigo, who sat cross legged with one leg out in front of him.

So, to get it he'd have to practically lean into the teen. That was crossing the line he was not allowed to cross, no matter how much he wanted too.

Ichigo was already close enough, their knees were almost touching and Ichigo was angled just perfectly that if Kisuke did reach over, he'd have to nudge Ichigo down to get his hat… almost on top.

Kisuke had to stop the shiver that attempted to grace his spine at the mere idea. Did this kid have any idea how luscious he was? Obviously not.

"There, how's that?"

Kisuke, 'hmmed,' and took the notebook. "Well, from what I can read of it," he said with amusement and got a punch on the shoulder for his comment. "You have them right."

"Where did you come up with that?"

"Before I died," Kisuke confessed.

Ichigo frowned and looked up at him. "Died?"

"Before I went to Soul Society."

"I..I thought people didn't retain their memories when they got to Soul Society?"

Kisuke smiled. "True, they don't after time," he expressed. "But for a short while you still have all those memories. Your entire life before it slowly disintegrates into nothing and you begin a new life. Your soul can't be wiped clean as soon as you appear in Soul Society. It has to be affected by the spiritual world and its particles. That's where it all changes. When I was younger, I had a habit of recording everything I did and everything I knew no matter what it was, I wrote it down. That never changed when I got to Soul Society. I have endless books on my human life and that's how I remember."

Ichigo was impressed and curious. He nearly smiled but then caught himself. He knit his brows together. "How old were you when you died?"

"I was sixteen," Kisuke answered. "It was a very long time ago; I didn't even live in Japan at the time. I was originally born in Sweden."

"Explains the hair," Ichigo hummed.

Kisuke laughed, he'd never told anyone how he died, not even Yoruichi. She had never asked so they all assumed he'd forgotten. It was strange talking about it. "I suppose it does. My mother was Swedish and my father was Japanese," he said simply. "I was a genius even then. It was a simple death," he remarked. "Nothing extraordinary, actually it was very dumb for a child genius."

Ichigo really wanted to laugh at that. "Oh? Do tell."

Kisuke sighed. "I - er - was horseback riding."

"… how did you die by that?" Ichigo asked incredulous.

"I never said I was very good at it," Kisuke added. "I was knocked off when it got scared and I got trampled to death, I died instantly I know that because the last thing I felt was the hoof to my head."

"Damn, sounds painful."

Kisuke nodded. "I wrote down all the details. I was really big on records, I believed that something of someone should always be written down, even if that person believes that they aren't that important. A life is always important no matter what they become and death is perhaps the most interesting part of life, after all."

"How do you age in Soul Society?" Ichigo asked.

"There's really no system. I personally think it depends on your spiritual growth rather than mental and physical like in the human world. You go to Soul Society as you were right before you die. Some age and some do not. Some people were already spiritually strong when they arrived, for instance Ukitake Jyuushiro, Captain of the Thirteenth Squad, how old do you think he is? If we were to determine his age by looks in the human world?"

Ichigo thought about it. "Twenty-five?" He tried. "I wouldn't say over thirty."

Kisuke chuckled. "You see, he's well over three hundred years old in the Soul Society."

"Damn and you?" Ichigo taunted.

"Ahh, I arrived in Soul Society a little more than a hundred and fifty years ago. But it was a hundred and ten years or so ago that I was exiled."

"It's no wonder, you still act like a kid," Ichigo said leaning back on his hands.

Kisuke chuckled. "Is that so Kurosaki-kun?" He eyed the devilish boy with wild amusement. "How old do I look?"

Ichigo snorted. "Uhm," he thought about it. "With your hat you look like you're in your thirties," he said getting a scoff from the shopkeeper. "However, with the hat off?" He turned his eyes on Kisuke and looked at him sharply.

It was like a bright white shining spotlight that he was suddenly turned on. For years, nothing had made him feel embarrassed or nervous enough to blush, even when Ichigo elbowed him in the face after he had come back from Soul Society. That had been funny not embarrassing. But now, his cheeks automatically flared up dying a tremendous colour of red and he knew there was no way Ichigo would pretend it didn't exist.

The teenager arched an eyebrow. "Is someone blushing?" Ichigo asked in shock.

Kisuke wanted to scowl but then that would be a giveaway. The man never scowled if he could help it. Instead, he looked at Ichigo calmly and allowed a twinkle to settle in his gray eyes. "No, Kurosaki-kun, I find it flattering that you're staring at me so hard," he said instead of confessing that he was indeed embarrassed. "I didn't realize I was still that charming of a man…"

Ichigo couldn't help it, he threw his head back and barked out laughing. He couldn't help it, Urahara Kisuke looked so cute like that, it wasn't even funny. In fact it was pure evil. The teen wanted to fall to the ground and roll in his laughter, but he knew he had to straighten up, his stomach curled in on him and clenched. He could even feel Hichigo inside somewhere apparently amused as well. He straightened up and sniffed. "I would say about Ukitake-san's age. Twenty-five," he answered through his chuckles.

"Ah, Kurosaki-kun you should laugh more often," Kisuke said with a grin. But if he did that, the world would fall to it's knees. Kisuke was such a pathetic old man, Ichigo was right. He was old, whether he looked twenty five or not.

Gah! He hated this. It was one of those things that he despised right now. Ages and friends in low and high places. He also hated his own thoughts, for the second time he cursed his brain. The first time was when he created that infernal little object that Aizen stole and now this.

A minor. His friend's minor son.

How troublesome.

Ichigo lost his smile and the laugh stopped, much to Kisuke's dismay.

Ichigo eyed him. "That was a one time thing and I couldn't help it." His ever present scowl was perfectly back in place. Not a line out of place or even an eye movement.

The kid was good, Kisuke thought. He'd give him that. It was almost convincing, had he not seen Ichigo ever laugh.

The laugh was like a Siren's Call.

He shook his head inwardly. "I really wish you'd lost control more often," he said and when he did, he almost slapped himself. That was walking along the thin edge of the forbidden line, he thought as Ichigo paused a second at the words and blushed briefly before it disappeared.

He too had picked up on what it could have meant.

"But Urahara-san," Ichigo murmured softly, getting his full attention. "If I lost control, the world might end," he commented as he stared away and down at the forgotten math book.

Words have never been spoken anymore truer than that! Kisuke thought. "You may be right."

Ichigo pursed his lips together in thought, Kisuke sat there silent watching those lips, noticing how kissable they were and then mentally slapped himself. "What do you think - would happen if you lost control?" Ichigo questioned.

He paused, it sounded innocent, but Kisuke's mind was going haywire at such an inquiry. Which kind of loss of control, was he thinking of?

"Well, that is a question worth a thousand answers, Kurosaki-kun," he began.

"Oh? Do elaborate," Ichigo said glancing over at him.

"My blood might be painted on the walls," Kisuke answered. "That's the only answer that sums the other thousand answers and theories that I have."

"Ah, I figured," Ichigo said quietly to himself, but Kisuke caught it.

They sat in a lapse of silence, neither of them could figure out if it was awkward or comfortable. Kisuke settled on the in between while Ichigo continued to have trouble deciding. Both consumed in thoughts.

Ichigo couldn't help but feel a tad bit vulnerable. Both of them answered a question that could pertain to a million things. Ichigo felt sometimes that he was always at the edge where he was about to lose control and he didn't mean his Hollow.

He pushed off his hands and wrapped his arms around his torso suddenly, his eyes falling back down onto the math book. "Thanks for the help, Urahara-san," Ichigo said.

"Eh?" Kisuke blinked out of his thoughts and peered over at Ichigo, noticing how he was sitting, which was betraying the aloof voice. "Well, you are going to clean the back room, yah?"

Ichigo's face turned from thoughtful to scowling with annoyance. "Yah, yah, yah! Just make sure to feed me. I'm no freeloader but I'm in for some hefty work."

"I would never starve a guest!" Kisuke gasped. "How could you think so ill of me?"

"Do you know, how many times I had to hear Renji's stomach growl?"

"That's his own fault, we were only joking and he couldn't take it as one."

Ichigo shook his head. "You and your jokes old man," he said shifting and tossing the man's hat at him. "I'm going, it's almost eleven."

Kisuke watched him crawl over to his other books and school bag. His eyes dilated when he saw the way Ichigo moved, hip to hip, hand to hand, and his knees sliding across the carpet. "Hm, I don't always joke," he remarked mechanically.

Ichigo's lip quirked as he peered up from his now stuffed bag. "Is that so, Urahara-san?"

"Is."

"Hm, I'll believe it when I see it, Good night," he was up and he was gone much too fast for even Kisuke's eyes to follow, even though they tried desperately to cling onto the last of the boy's figure.

He however mentally captured that strong reiatsu and held it in his mind and then shook his head.

"No crossing the line Urahara Kisuke!" He said out loud to no one but himself. "The consequences of that could be disastrous."

However, their conversation had already bordered the line. Ichigo had never talked so much before, nor had he ever playfully stole his hat and put it aside.

Kisuke also had never forgotten about his lovely little hat. He twirled said hat around on his finger, remembering Ichigo knocking it off and then sliding it behind him. The comment about his age and how he looked younger without it. His heart picked up and he sighed before plopping it back on his head.

Somehow, Kisuke knew that on this particular day it all started. Some sort of line was crossed and it had been such a simple undoing and by Ichigo's own admission.

Did he even know what he was doing? Kisuke doubted it. As intelligent as Ichigo was, he seemed abnormally obtuse about other people's feelings.

Rukia, Renji, and Orihime were solid proof of that.

Kisuke felt even more fuelled and that wasn't a good thing. It was just… Kisuke hadn't had a conversation like that in decades. He was always talking about someone else, someone else's life, figuring out someone else's problem, while trying to cruelly rectify his own problems.

Never had anyone ever come right out and asked him those types of questions.

Why did Ichigo want to know? He moved to stand when a paper fluttered to the ground before him. He reached down and picked it up and winced.

Ichigo's assignment. It was due tomorrow morning.

Quickly, he grabbed slipped on his sandals and moved out into the cool night weather. He traced Ichigo's reiatsu until he came upon the teen in the middle of the street speaking to a small child spirit. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore pigtails. He was now in his Soul Reaper form.

"You can see me?" She gasped touching his face with her small hands.

Lucky little girl, Kisuke thought.

"Of course I can, now, about you being out here late. Even though you're a spirit, there's a good chance you can be attacked."

She frowned, her lip quivering. "By who?"

"It's more like what, let me send you to Soul Society, you'll be whole again, I promise. You can talk to others and find a family."

She gasped. "Really? You promise?"

"I pinky swear," he said holding out his pinky.

She giggled furiously and took his with hers. "Good, send me please!"

"Yes ma'am," he said tapping her forehead with the end of his Zanpakuto.

She gasped as she began to dissolve into sparkles and what was left of her was a swallowtail butterfly.

Ichigo stepped back into his gigai; Kisuke had been so stunned, he forgot what he had chased after the teenager for. He really had a way with children, didn't he? Even if he tried to play the cold hearted guy, Kisuke was learning that Ichigo was really bad at the game.

"Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo gasped, eyes widened as he looked over. "Urahara-san! Is something wrong?" He asked wiggling his shoulder as he fixed the gigai properly onto him.

"No, you forgot this," he held out the assignment. "No need for your father to kill me…" Even more than what he should do if he only knew my thoughts. "For making you fail." Or for wanting to throw you on the concrete ground and have my way with you.

"Oh!" Ichigo took the paper. "Arigato, Urahara-san," he murmured and then hesitated before shaking his head. "Good night."

Kisuke watched him take a few steps, pause, frown, and then turn around.

"Everything alright, Kurosaki-kun?" He asked pleasantly, even though he was really concerned.

The boy's forehead wrinkled in thought. "It's just, I forgot something else," the teen murmured softly.

"Hm? What is that?" He was now stumped and curious, until Ichigo walked right up to him until they were perfectly eye level, he reached up ripped off the green hat, leaned in and kissed the shopkeeper tenderly on the cheek, then he replaced the hat and walked away without any words said.

Kisuke was left staggered, with one hand to his cheek.

It was burning.

A/N: Ran through a spell check but the editing is not absolute. Also, my updates are usually really frequent unless something dire comes up. I don't like to keep others waiting. So, check back frequently and there may be another chapter. Sometimes, I put up one - three a day. I don't like to wait around and I don't hold chapters hostage for any reason. That's just dumb.