Disclaimer: Tite Kubo, what happened to Shunsui's sexy eyepatch?
AN: So, 6 years give or take? It feels like yesterday. So, in the meantime I became a PhD, relocated to the Middle East and in general wasted time. Fuk. Okay, this fic has been in the back of my mind for years! I am far from satisfied with this chapter, and IT IS UNBETAED! But it's here... I sincerely apologize for any and all spelling errors, inconsistencies, Renji-abuse and deviations (with or without fur). Man, I do think that Tite Kubo's manga style is my all time favorite.
And thank you for the reviews! Kiss!
Chapter 3 – It comes with salmon
The basic problem, as he had masterly deduced it, was that Ichihiki did not have a trace of reiatsu about him when in kitty-form. This had become apparent the very first time the little nugget changed shape, much to Yoruichi's dismay. Outside of the bedroom, she did not relish band-aided nipples.
They had simply not expected that Ichihiki had picked up any of his mother's more esoteric skills. Really, who could expect that another of the Shihoin-dynasty's seemingly never-ending supply of magical gadgets would be invasive? As far as Urahara could tell, the pendant in question, residing somewhere Yoruichi had always refused to specify, had 'leaked' during the pregnancy, and for better or worse, granted Ichihiki the innate ability to change into a cat. A purple, completely reiatsu-neutral cat.
Things were further complicated by the differences of feline and human aging. A one month old, sleepy, helpless baby readily turned into a limber, ceiling-scurrying kitten. It really was a rather fascinating situation. Except when said kitten decided to run away.
Since sitting down and pretending to be a sardine wasn't really an option – Yoruichi had smacked him on the head in a rare display of exasperation when he had suggested it – he was reduced to the very unproductive method of looking under every dumpster and bench, and sifting through fish-smelling garbage and leftovers, all the while calling out for his son in a voice that was far from as calm as he could wish.
Nothing.
He really did not know how much time had passed. The reiatsu flared like crazy above him, white-hot stabs and sparks at the edges of his conscience, parries and blows, zanpakutos unfolding like flowers, and the darker, yet somehow brighter, ethereal explosions of Arrancar powers. It was beautiful and hugely troublesome. He had counted on their friends to kick the invaders back to Hueco Mundo, but the battles were dragging on.
At his side, Benihime tugged at his attention, begging to be released, but for once, he easily resisted her. Blood and bones, keep back, he whispered in his mind. The bloody empress subsided uneasily, only kept at bay by her fickle respect for his foolishness and love. That was the strength and weakness of Benihime. She drank deeply of his passions, and lashed out like a woman scorned when she was not pleased. While it was not a struggle to keep her subdued most of the time - his whimsical behavior ensured that - she pressed to the forefront in times of trouble, and could be somewhat of a menace.
"Stand down, Lady," he said firmly. This is about my son! I need to think! There seemed to be a surprised whisper somewhere between his spine and lungs, and the proud princess retreated.
So. Even Benihime had fallen to Ichihiki's purple charms. He had not realized, since this was the first threat since before Ichihiki was born. He had hoped it would have stayed like that until well after he had retired to the front porch of the shop in a rocking chair.
Well, a humble, handsome and perverted father could dream, couldn't he? With a sigh, Urahara pushed his hat firmly down on his head with one hand, and did what he should have done from the start – think.
The kitten knew he was in trouble. And the kitten did not like it one bit. While still very young, the kitten already had a very high opinion of himself – and not without reason: he had been spoiled rotten from the moment he emerged into the world and so he was in his own humble opinion a wonder of the world. Just like a pyramid. Just with fur. He's so awesome that he instinctively knew what a pyramid was.
But this biggie did not treat him well at all, and it did not smell at all familiar. The kitten might be infant, but his instinct were first class, courtesy of his parental background.
The kitten snarled and then sniffled, one paw hiding his tiny, pink nose. At first, it had been so exciting, running, sniffing, pawing and leaping, but then wet stuff had come down from above and completely soaked him! The kitten hated water! It made his fur drag, it was cold and it seeped into his eyes and ears and nose!
The kitten wanted to go home, but found to his fright that the water had washed away all the familiar smells. It was so unfair!
So with stubborn ferocity, the kitten had retreated underneath a dumpster and waited for the water-coming-down to stop. Or for his mommy to come get him.
The kitten had been cat-napping when something had disturbed him. It was like a bright light, bright enough to flash before his closed eyes, and he jumped to his feet and ran to peek out from under the dumpster. Water was still running down from the sky, but something was going on that had the kitten completely forget about this.
Up there, high up above his head, there were lights and noises and voices going on, a whole lot of them, leaping and bouncing back and forth, up and down and sideways! The kitten's huge eyes rolled in his head trying to keep up, and his ears moved like parabolas. He had never experienced anything so exiting!
Forgetting about the water, the kitten ran out into the open and sat on his haunches, stretching up while pawing at the air with his tiny paws.
I want to join the fun! he mewed!
But then the biggie had appeared, coming snarling out of the darkness, eyes all scary-bright, mouth agape and one paw sweeping down, so it was just that the kitten managed to flee back under the dumpster.
And here he was, peering out into the wet night, shivering and cold and slowly realizing that even a wonder of the world might be in serious problems.
Grimmjow the panther sniffed the air carefully. His senses were so much more fine-tuned in this, his original form, and he enjoyed the raw, primitive exposures. Scents of food and sweat, exhaust fumes and garbage, perfume and sex, filled his wide, sensitive nostrils. The smells of humans, beating hearts so full of blood, so easy to still, savory souls just ripe for the taking. The panther didn't care. The panther wanted his blanket!
With a low growl he stalking into the night, a king of the beast, nay, of the whole fucking world!
The panther trusted that the lowly members of his pack had his back. Or there would be hell to pay. It was a simple plan – but it had worked like a charm, the stupid Shinigamis going for them like flies to a shit.
The panther snickered. Thinking themselves so fucking holy! They were no different from them, and being all high and holy and denying it.
The panther was gonna teach them a lesson... After he retrieve Blankie.
Someone had stolen his Blankie and the sheer fucking injustice of that had the panther taste bile. He wanted to mutilate and devour and humiliate and bury the offender in his litter tray. And not necessarily in that order.
The panther stretched and sniffed again. The trail he had followed from Hueco Mundo had been of his own smell, intermingled with that of Blankie, but as they had exited the Garganta, the trail had gone cold. Drowned in the shitheap of smells and impressions that was the living world, so different from Hueco Mundo's skeletal dryness. The panther rather enjoyed it.
The panther jumped from rooftop to back alley, ran through a deserted park and crossed a railway. Blankie was here, those bastard* Shinigamis were involved somehow. Really, all he had to do was follow their smell back to their lair.
The panther snarled as his sensitive nose finally - FINALLY - picked up the scent of his precious. Howling like a demon doing the ice bucket challenge, the panther sped into the night.
The trace was faint, but unmistakable! Sweet, sweet Blankie! And there was another, foreign smell that was ... innocent? The panther growled and shook his head. Innocent was a concept so far removed from his present existence that he was momentarily stunned. The smell belonged to the insolent being that had stolen its most precious commodity. How could such a being be innocent?
The trace meandered through the damp streets of the human town. As it was a rainy night in the middle of the week, the feline Arrancar did not meeting any living beings to obstruct his hunt. It was a shame really, the panther would have liked to take his wrath out upon a few unsuspecting mortals.
Winding through the streets, the panther quickly came to were the scent was strongest – a dark back alley, full of garbage and boxes – and in the middle, sitting quite insolently uncovered and open – the insolent being that reeked of blankie! Fucking cheek it had!
Sparing no time, the panther attacked, but somehow, the insolent being narrowly avoided his snapping jaws, and retreated underneath a dumpster with a speed that quite frankly chocked the panther. What the fuck...? Was this a new kind of Shinigami?
The panther paused only for a heartbeat – whatever this thing was, it was an enemy first and foremost, and enemies existed to be dealt with!
Growling, the panther walked up to the dumpster. The dumpster was blocked on all side except the front by garbage and walls. The enemy had backed itself into a corner.
Suddenly enjoying the game, the panther crouched and looked under the dumpster.
Wide, golden eyes looked back at the panther.
"Mew!"
The panther's jaw dropped. It was a kitten, a fucking kitten! Small, not more than a month old, its – purple? – fur wet and bedraggled. Its eyes were huge and golden, luminous in the slight off-cast glare of the street light. Purple fur and golden eyes? The panther paused briefly, a memory had penetrated the violent mish mash that was currently his brain.
Then the kitten hissed and the panther roared in anger and swept a paw under the dumpster.
The kitten rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being sliced like a loaf of bread.
Fuck!
Grimmjow rammed his head into the space between the dumpster and the ground, and trashed around with his paw in a furious attempt to get at the kitten.
The kitten licked the panther's nose.
The panther froze and then jumped back as if stung. Tentatively, he pawed at his nose. It was still there.
What the hell? That's it! No more mr. Nice Guy!
"Get away from my son, bastard*," a deep voice hissed behind him. Grimmjow turned and stared into a second pair of golden eyes. Like the kitten's. Except that these ones were angry. Very, very angry. On a primordial level such that it sent a shudder through his non-existent heart.
"He's also my son, though I wholeheartedly agree with my lovely, lovely Yoruichi-chan," quipped a second voice as Urahara stepped into the alley behind the black cat. Benihime was naked in his hand and the steel gleamed with a reddish cast in the distant street light.
"You were looking for this?"
Grimmjow's head shot up. In one hand, the man with the ridiculous hat was holding a piece of blue, embroidered fabric.
BLANKIE!
The Sexta Espada charged like a released spring.
To be punched squarely in the face by a dark-skinned fist.
The panther reeled backwards, wobbling from side to side. Through blurry eyes, he glimpsed a behatted form dart forward and quickly snatch the kitten underneath the dumpster. The panther turned, but found his way blocked by a tense, golden-eyed woman.
"I said, leave my son alone," she growled.
Urahara ran, Ichihiki clutched securely in his arms. "You are gonna get a hot bath and milk and –"
"Mew!" Wet paws mashed against Urahara's cheek and lips and he looked down at his son in surprised. Ichihiki seems quite upset. His golden eyes were narrow and his small ears pressed flat against his head.
"What a night you have had," he muttered and gently scratched his son between the shoulder blades, a favorite spot that normally had Ichihiki purring contently in a second.
This time, however, Ichihiki only began to writhe and scramble around in his arms. Concerned, the shop owner stopped and held out the kitten in front of him. Ichihiki had not seemed hurt, but maybe – fzzzz! A tiny paw flashed across Urahara's face, leaving long, red marks across his forehead.
"OUCH!" he yelled, nearly dropping his son.
"What the heck – don't spoil your father's looks, Hiki!" The kitten did a summersault and slipped out of his grip. Landing securely on his feet, the kitten ran off back down the lane, the blanket dragging after him.
Urahara sped after, but Ichihiki was doing his best to prove that he was the son of the Goddess of Flash.
In the diffuse lights of the streetlights, the scenario in the back alley looked rather like the lovechild of burlesque show and a circus act: Yoruichi's clothes had been ripped by her shunko release, leaving her dressed only in a lazy corset top and matching panties, and her shapely body was outlined in crackling power. She was crouched low to the ground and her teeth bared in a predatory smile that would put a starved tiger to shame. Across from her, the panther was similarly crouched, though a far uglier sight. One eye was closed, the left front paw hung limp and deep dents marring the bony plates along the back. She was playing with the poor thing.
"MEOW!" Like a fluffy baseball hit by a 1.00 average batter, Ichihiki flew into the back alley and placed himself and the blanket between the combatants. Startled, Yoruichi rocked back on her heels. The panther went wide-eyed as his beloved possession once again was in sight.
"BLANKIE!"
"Hiki, out of the way!"
"Ichihiki, no!"
"Blood Mist Shield!"
The collision shook the surrounding buildings and sent the dumpster flying.
When the dust settled, Yoruichi had the panther in a one-handed chokehold and was happily strangling the life out of him. In her other arm she held Ichihiki and the blanket, both surrounded by the crimson light of Benihime' shield.
"Honey, don't kill him!" Urahara yelled.
"Urahara, shut up!" the Shihoin princess snarled, tightening her grip. The panther's pink tongue lolled out of the open mouth. Ichihiki began to cry.
He had to distract her. Only one option came readily to mind. Oh, well – Renji was used to being abused.
"It was Abarai-kun that left the door open," Urahara divulged.
It had started to rain again.
Heavy, somehow lukewarm droplets that splattered loudly on the broken asphalt and drenched their clothes and furs.
"WHAT?!" Yoruichi's voice exploded into the night. She whipped her head around and glared daggers at Urahara.
"I'm gonna make a lampshade out of his tattooed hide!"
"That's gonna be one ugly lampshade," he quipped – and taking advantage of Yoruichi's momentary distraction, he send the comatose panther flying out of her grasp with a well-aimed kick. The limp body careened across the back yard.
"Are you out of your mind?" Yoruichi yelled in disbelief. Urahara put a quick hand on her shoulder and said quietly: "Not more than usual. Let Hiki go."
"No – "
Urahara put a restraining arm around Yoruichi and whispered: "Trust me."
Amazingly, she did.
He dispelled the shield, and Ichihiki immediately stopped wailing, shook himself and ran straight for the panther, dragging the blanket behind him.
"Meeeew." Ichihiki placed the blanket in front of the unconscious panther and cocked his head to the side, looking up at the Arrancar with luminous eyes. And Urahara tried to not notice how bite-sized their son looked.
The panther stirred and groaned, trying to get his legs under him, and then his eyes focused on the kitten. For an instance, rage flared in the dark orbs. There was an intake of breath, a sharp curse, a hand that went for a sword and a darker hand that – unexpectedly – stilled the first hand.
Unfazed, the kitten moved closed. And licked the panther's nose.
The panther's eyes became as wide as saucers. Then he frantically hugged the blanket to his chest. The blanket briefly lit up and seemed to become softer and more fluffy, as if happy to be back with its rightful owner.
Ichihiki purred.
An invisible stone fell from Urahara's heart. If he had been wrong...
"I have a proposal for you," he said.
The panther looked up, slowly, and then its form shimmered and a blue-haired man with a feral double grin slowly sat up.
"What ya got to say, Shinigami?" he drawled. The blanket was still securely clutched one hand. Ichihiki rubbed against the blue-haired man's leg and purred.
"My son seems to have taken a liking to you. He really has his mother's soft heart," - there was a violent snort from behind him – "and I do not particularly fancy letting my princess taste such powerful blood. How about you behave yourself, and share?"
The blue-haired man let out a sharp laughter. "Are you fucking insane?"
"Maybe. However, unless you want us to retrieve that blanket from your cold, dead hands, you better hear me out."
The Arrancar grumbled, but did not move.
"You have been played for a fool." It was hard to tell, but Urahara thought he detected a slightly reddish tint to the Arrancar's face.
"Don't be embarrassed. I myself was a fool for not realizing it sooner," Urahara said soothingly. Yoruichi slapped a hand across her face.
He huffed. "Well, there had been a lot of ruckus around the shop lately," he said, indicating the purple kitten.
"A fool?" the Arrancar growled. "Ya make no sense, ya stupid Shinigami!"
"The one who took your precious blanket and had it send here was Sosuke Aizen."
"Liar! Ya stole it!"
Urahara shook his head. "Fufufu, why on earth would we steal a blanket –"
"Because it's the best blanket in the world!" the man yelled, and then he snapped his mouth shot, his face now undeniable crimson.
"Down, kitty," Urahara said lightly. "Aizen-kun has his moments of originality, I admit that. Do you really think he did not know how you would react upon finding your most precious commodity missing? He took your blanket and mailed it to my shop as a present for Ichihiki and counted on you to do something rash."
The Arrancar glared.
"And you delivered."
Yoruichi grabbed Urahara's arm. "Are you sure of this?"
"Murphy's Law. The simplest solution is often the most plausible," he replied. She inclined her head. It really did make sense, in a twisted sort of way. She was gonna kill that four-eyed wanna-be Godfather!
"What do you propose, Shinigami," the Arrancar said reluctantly. He knew that he was outmatched.
Urahara walked up to the panther, and scooped up the kitten. There was a disturbance of space and then he was holding a purple-haired baby. A very sleepy baby.
"If you don't mind," Urahara said softly. He took the blanket from the startled Arrancar's hand, and carefully swaddles his son in the soft, blue fabric.
"It is really a nice blanket, I give you that … What is your name?"
"Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, Sexta Espada," the Arrancar replied, looking very confused.
"My, how do you even begin to spell that? Well, Grimmjow, I will speak plainly," Urahara said, looking the blue-haired man straight in the eye. "You are an Arrancar, you serve Aizen willingly, you are a brute and quite strong, that is plain. And to top it all, you have tried to hurt my son. Don't do that again." He smiled grimly and Grimmjow almost choked on a hairball.
"However, my son also seems to have taken a shine to you, and I do like the idea of turning the table on Sosuke-kun... Your master has betrayed you and used you. How about paying him back in turn?" He let the words hang in the air.
Grimmjow laughed. "A sneak, you want me to be a goddamn sneak?"
"It comes with complementary salmon."
"Fuck. You!"
"Please, not in front of the child!" Urahara said, holding his hand op to his mouth in pretended shock. Grimmjow rolled his eyes.
"I take that as a yes."
Much later. Urahara looked in rapt fascination on the two sleeping forms curled up on the blue, tea-cup-embroidered blanket – Blankie – in the living room.
One was a small, completely exhausted and gorged ball of purple fur. The kitten had a new adornment – a small, elastic collar striped in green and white with an attached GPS-tracker and a miniature tag that read: If found, return to the Urahara Shop. Next to the kitten lay a bigger ball of blue fur and white bony plates, a corner of the blanket securely tugged between the front paws. An empty food bowl smelling of salmon sat next to the blanket.
"How cute they look," he gushed, hands clasped together.
"It takes a genius to be such a perfect idiot," Yoruichi said tersely, lightly cuffing the back of his head.
"Really, Urahara, is a tame Arrancar what we need?"
"But he matches the wallpaper," he quipped, and then turned serious. "There will be a war, Yoruichi, and the outcome is far from certain. I prefer to even the odds in any way possible."
"They are rather endearing," she admitted, giving him that much.
"Our son has made his first friend!" Urahara said happily. "He is growing up so fast."
"A "friend" that is a soul-eating monster in service to the greatest traitor Soul Society has ever known. A "friend" I had to beat bloody before he stopped wanting to shred our son for the sake of a teapot-embroidered blanket," Yoruichi pointed out.
"He will come around. I do think the terms of the lease-contract are quite fair, especially the complementary fresh salmon," Urahara said.
Yoruichi glared at him and then smiled – a tired smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I tell you, sometimes I don't know who's the bigger baby here." She yanked at his blond hair and when he turned, she caught his lips in a fierce kiss.
"You impossible, impossible man!"
He hugged her tight.
They clung to each other, two impossibly strong people taking their weakness out on each other.
Much, much later.
Yoruichi looked at the blueprints in disbelief, then back to Urahara's enthusiastic face.
"You are not gonna make a cat door into Hueco Mondo!"
"Then I only see one solution to saving Ichihiki from a lonely and deprived life," Urahara said with a theatrical expression.
"Oh?"
His expression became wicked, and lightning-swift, he threw her over his shoulder.
"We have to make another kitten!"
"Kisuuukeeee!"
In his room, Renji took out pen and paper to write Mayuri Kurotchiki about an ear-amputation.
- FIN
*Insert teme for wapanese version.
It's over. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
