Title: Suspect
A/N: Not much to say here.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.


It ends up being Isshin who takes care of Ryuuken and Soken who is left to deal with his grandson, listening to words filter through thin walls. Garbled and weary they come, not quite clear enough to be understood and discerned. Probably just as well, all things considered. It's indecent to spy on grief once having been told not to and Soken doesn't want to imagine the sorts of things Ryuuken lays bare in the turmoil of his grief; these things are too private even for family.

Here's hoping Kurosaki-san can make him listen to the words that I couldn't.

Uryuu seems content enough in his company, at any rate, at least as content as can be expected.

Soken sighs as whispering continues to make its way to his ears through the thin walls and Uryuu shifts slightly in his sleep, head pillowed on his grandfather's leg on the couch. Like most children, even if he's too young to understand he can tell something is wrong, and that sleep is noticeably troubled.

He's too young to understand what's going on and for that Soken suspects he will thank God for the rest of his life. He's young enough that he won't be able to remember any of this, and for that Soken knows he will thank God for the rest of his life.

But other troubles will come as a result of a child having no memory of his mother.

"Good luck to you, child," the old man mutters grimly, running a hand through his grandson's fine dark hair. "I suspect you will need it in the years to come."