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Chapter 7 : Remind me next time to use underhand tricks

Masaki sat on the sofa, a hand to her forehead, apparently distraught, "For the time being, try not to fight, please?" She then smiled, and raised her eyebrows, hopeful that that would dissipate the tension between the two men.

It was a while since Ichigo had seen had seen his mother's smile—her real smile instead of the one in her poster or in photographs. Emotion rose in his chest, and he was on the brink of calling her 'mom', when Urahara, who was lying on the other couch with his hat covering his face, looked at him sideways.

The wave of nostalgia from when he was six passed, when he could see that smile every day, without throwing souls of the death and the powers into the equation. He needed to be strong in front of his mother, because even after all these years, he couldn't cry in front of her. He also needed to be bold and accepting for whatever crazy scheme Urahara had going on, because there needed to be a way for him to go back to the real time!

"Looks kinda hard with this nut-case right here," Isshin said, motioning towards Ichigo with his thumb.

"Hey, what'd you say, goatee?"

"Poop-kun, I'd be happy if you were to quiet down a little," Urahara said, feigning weakness again, and for some reason, both his parents fell for the acting.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. He was getting impatient now. When will anybody tell him what's going on?

Using Urahara's excuse as ploy, he said, "Right, why don't we leave you alone to recover from the huge shock you received, then?"

Ichigo wasn't one to use such underhand tricks or put on facades to roll the ball in his court, but if there was one thing he had learnt from a certain garden gnome-sized soul reaper, it was that underhandedness was essential in such situations.

Ichigo was rather the person to rough the shady shopkeeper up, as he had done before, and smack the answers out of him, but if he did that now, he would probably be completely annihilated by his mother for being a guest and treating another guest like that.

"Yeah, that would be for the best." Masaki surmised with an exhale. "Let's leave Urahara-san to his own devices; call us if you feel better." She bowed to her guest, and grasped Isshin's arm, signalling him to move inside with her and not resist for now.

Urahara did the best version of his bow while lying on the couch, and Ichigo really regretted not having a cell phone with him for photographic evidence of his shame.

Masaki's smile faded as soon as they entered the bedroom, "Something is odd." She stated.

"Glad you realized." Isshin remarked offhandedly.

"Hmm… something is off and odd about this whole evening." She mused, holding up five fingers and ticking off the things "Finding the mysterious boy on the road, his out-of-place reaction to an year calendar, the bandages and how he looked at them, and Urahara-san's sudden appearance."

"To me, Urahara-san always seems to appear out of nowhere, honestly."

But Masaki, for once, didn't find his joke so funny, "It all started with Ichigo, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Isshin looked in the direction of the stairs, "He's weird, I don't get him; why does he always have to squabble so much with his elders? He's clearly a minor, so uncouth!"

"No… it's his aura… his soul-pressure I don't get. It's like he is… not from our world."

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