Chapter 12: The Light Behind Your Eyes
If I could be with you tonight
I would sing you to sleep
Never let them take the light behind your eyes
One day I'll lose this fight
As we fade in the dark
Just remember you will always burn as bright
Be strong and hold my hand
Time—it comes for us, you'll understand
Waking up in the mornings had never been Urahara's favourite part of the day. He used to joke with Isshin that the real reason for his defection was so that he had the freedom to sleep as late as he wished, and he took full advantage of being his own master now. But as he grudgingly opened his eyes he thought that he could really get used to walking up next to a shock of orange hair, with his arms still wrapped round that warm fluttering body.
Noise filtered in through the window, intruding upon their lazy solitude. The general racket coming from outside betrayed the location of Ururu and Jinta, who had been warned not to disturb Ichigo on pain of punishment, and he knew that Tessai would be outside too, checking and doing everything he could to strengthen the spells and kidō that formed the protective net over the shop. Everyone knew in their hearts that the barrier would probably prove useless if Aizen himself decided to pay a visit, but it made everyone feel a little safer nonetheless. Besides it should be fairly effective against any lower level arrancars and, though it had not been tested on such a power yet, it should be able to keep even the espada at bay.
Renji and Rukia had been hanging around too, mainly out of concern for Ichigo but also partially as a means of hiding out from Soul Society. Even though everything had gone to plan this time, Urahara knew that the Captain-Commander was sure to be pissed, and none of them wanted to be around for the telling off. But they'd gone back to face the music a few days ago. Suì-Fēng had done likewise, much to Urahara's delight, muttering some dark threats at him as she left. Orihime had left too, after staying at the shop for over a week she insisted that she wanted to go home, despite the protests of the others. But she was adamant in the way that only a homesick girl can be and she'd been allowed to leave, along with Yoruichi who had been posted as her guard until things seemed safer. Ichigo had grumbled greatly at this, given that his requests to return home had been flat out denied by everyone. Even his father had agreed that it would be best for him to remain at the Urahara Shōten until his strength returned; had it not been for the fear of putting his family in danger should anyone come after him Ichigo would have pushed the matter, but he begrudgingly accepted that reality of the situation. Should anything happen it was safer for everyone involved if he was here.
And besides, there were some interesting perks to staying at the shop.
Urahara did a quick sweep of his memory and, as far as he knew, all the freeloaders had left. With the kids and Tessai outside that left him and Ichigo alone together in the shop for what must've been the first time since his return. Which also meant that they could catch a few more moments in bed before anybody came along to disturb them. In another life the thought of taking advantage of the situation, of having the redhead in his bed, would have crossed his mind but he knew that to do such a thing now was out of the question.
'Goddamn you Aizen you sick bastard.' He silently cursed the cause of Ichigo's nightmares and bit his lip as the familiar rage twisted in his stomach. He didn't even realise how worked up he was getting until he felt Ichigo stir in his arms.
"Your reiatsu is turning dark." The redhead muttered, still half asleep but unusually perceptive. He'd been like that ever since he'd gotten back. "Please, don't get angry…" Urahara caught the unspoken meaning in his request. 'It upsets me.'
"Sorry." He murmured against the back of Ichigo's head, nuzzling his nose into orange strands, breathing in his scent. Ichigo gave a deep, sleepy sigh and rolled over in his arms to face him. Urahara smiled at the half awake shinigami, sliding his arms around the base of his back and rubbing soft circles on the skin there. He pulled him in as close as he dared, thankfully feeling none of the tense stiffness that Ichigo usually displayed when touched.
"Mmm." Ichigo's eyelids fluttered as he tucked his head beneath Urahara's chin, resting his cheek against the exposed skin of his chest as it rose and fell against him. "Morning. Man, I slept well."
"Really?" Urahara smirked against Ichigo's hair as it tickled his nose. "I would've thought that having a handsome shopkeeper in your bed would've made sleeping more difficult for you."
"Hah-hah." Ichigo made no attempt to disguise the sarcasm in his voice as his fingers traced a wandering trail along the lines of the shopkeeper's exposed collarbone. He felt Urahara's skin shiver beneath the pads of his fingertips and smiled softly. "Actually it was the opposite."
"Glad to hear it." And he was. The nightmares may never completely dissipate, and even if they did it would take a lot more time and healing. But the first night free of the terrors was a small but significant victory in Ichigo's recovery.
"You know what that means though?" Ichigo mused idly, his fingers still trailing along the outlines of bone. "It means you're gonna have to stay here every night…"
"I think that is something I could live with." Urahara winced a little as he hinted at an issue that they really needed to discuss at some point if this arrangement was to continue. "However I fear your father may not be so open to that concept."
"Tch." Ichigo made a small noise of amused annoyance against his chest. "Oh, I can just imagine the look on his face…"
"Yeah, right before he'd come at me brandishing a sword. I'd like to keep my chiselled features thanks."
Ichigo snorted, the closest thing to a laugh he'd heard from the boy in weeks. Talking about Isshin gave Urahara another quick stab of conscience to his gut. He couldn't help but feel that it was too late; he was in too deep now. They both were. But he really didn't want to know how Isshin would react when he discovered that his old friend (emphasis on 'old') was seducing his emotionally damaged son.
The sun rose higher in the sky outside, creeping through the blinds and shining in as he felt Ichigo stretch against him and yawn sleepily.
"We should get up." Ichigo muttered, drowsily changing the subject as he felt Urahara's reiatsu waver again.
"You're probably right…" The blonde hummed gently and proposed, "Five more minutes?"
"Thought you'd never ask." Ichigo mumbled against his chest as his eyes slipped shut again.
The room was warm and peaceful and neither of them were in any kind of hurry to get out of bed. It wasn't until Tessai stuck his head around the door, raising no eyebrows at discovering his employer and his patient in bed together, and informed them that not only had they slept through breakfast, they were liable to sleep through lunch as well if they did not shake a leg, that they resolved themselves to rise. Even then it was begrudgingly that they rose from the warm confines of the bed, but Ichigo looked better and was acting cheerier and more like his old self than he had since the day Urahara watched him stride into the abysmal mouth of the garganta, into hell itself.
They joined Tessai and the children at the table for lunch, Ichigo settling cross legged on the floor just close enough so that their knees brushed ever slightly. Urahara shot the redhead a sideways half-smile, his skin tingling ever so slightly beneath the cloth of his trousers where it had connected with Ichigo's. Urahara couldn't help but sneak affectionate glances at the redhead with the light back in his eyes as he learned how to smile again, joking with Jinta and Ururu as they ate, and he wondered if perhaps just this once everything would be allowed to work out alright.
Later in the day, when the sun was just starting to turn to begin its slow descent into the earth, a soft knock on the front door of the shop announced new arrivals.
Orihime bounced in cheerfully, picnic basket in hand and looking none the worse for wear after her ordeal, followed closely by her purple haired guard. Urahara smiled as he shooed the girl down to the training grounds where Ichigo was recapping upon basic training with Chad and Ishida, taking the first steps towards regaining his strength. As she began her climb down the ladder in the trapdoor Urahara turned to Yoruichi, and the jovial expression on his face hardened, his eyes were full of questions and his face was set in an uncharacteristically grim expression.
Down below them, Orihime descended into the vast, desert like training grounds where Ichigo had first entered the world of the hollows, and immediately spotted the three boys lying atop one of the numerous great rocks which littered the area. They were taking a short break from training as, despite the adrenaline that shot through his veins at the pleasantly familiar sensation of exercise, Ichigo wasn't faring too well. Ever since the flight from Las Noches, he had possessed barely enough strength to lift a sword. Urahara speculated that the initial outpouring of immense power had been the result of a build-up caused by the supressing collar that he had been forced to wear whilst in captivity. Once it had been released the resultant outburst had all but drained Ichigo's reiatsu, and it would take a while for it to fully reform. His basic combat skills had rusted too as his body had deteriorated from lack of training. The effects had transferred back into his physical body when his soul had been restored, and it was going to take a while for him to re-build the muscle mass he had lost. Not that he was completely weak, just not quite as strong as he had been. The basic exercises he was running through with Ishida and Chad were helping and he was getting his strength back, but it was a frustratingly slow process, especially for the redhead who was so used to rushing through these types of things. If there was a faster, more dangerous route he would have taken it, but for once he was forced to take things at a slower pace, and his patience was wearing thin, revealing frustration in his movements.
But he stood up again, Urahara kept reminding him that that was what was important, that he kept standing back up, and wrenched Zangetsu from where he stuck lazily in the ground.
"C'mon Chad." He gestured towards the muscle bound boy as he stood, "Let's see how improved these new arms of yours are."
Orihime and Ishida sat on the blanket that she had brought, looking on while the two warriors ran around below them, chasing each other around and around like siblings play fighting.
"Kurosaki-kun seems a lot better." Orihime commented, her expression was cheery as always but her voice seemed edged with a worry that Ishida noticed was always present when she was talking about Ichigo.
"Yes." Ishida remained a man of few words, fixing Orihime with his curious steely glance. "He does."
"I'm glad." She chewed at her lower lip for a moment before continuing, "I don't know what they did to him, but I know that it was so much worse than the way they treated me." Guilt was clear in her eyes, and despite himself Ishida couldn't help but curse Ichigo for making her worry so.
"That's because Kurosaki is more difficult to manipulate…" Ishida murmured, "No offence intended." He added, suddenly worried that he was only making things worse. "He's just not as kind hearted as you, you know."
"Oh I don't know about that." Ishida let him smile gently at her. Orihime looked as though she was on the verge of tears again. "That's why I simply have to get stronger, so that nobody has to go through something like that to protect me. Kurosaki-kun is always protecting me…" Ishida felt a stab of jealousy in his gut until she added. "And so are you. All of you are always getting hurt because of me." She turned her face upwards towards Ishida, eyes shining with tears which she would not let fall. "That's why I have to get stronger, so that I can protect the people I love…"
She broke off mid-sentence, her face colouring as she looked away, as though worried that she was about to betray some deeply buried secret. Ishida smiled gently at her, sweet little Orihime, and placed his hand over her own pale one, squeezing gently as a reassurance. They sat in silence like that for a while, each contemplating their own thoughts, each making silent promises to each other.
Below them on the training floor, Ichigo dodged Chad's punch and swung back around, bringing Zangetsu up to catch him. He landed a glancing blow against his transformed arm, but it did not cut the thick skin that it found there. Ichigo scowled slightly. He had no desire to hurt Chad, but a blow like that should have cut him. He really had gotten weak in his absence.
Inside his head Zangetsu offered soothing words and the hollow mocked; it would get better; he would regain his strength. But how long was he doomed to remain weak, how much longer would he allow others to protect him?
He sighed softly as he buried Zangetsu into the ground, a sudden fatigue sweeping over him. He got tired so easily now, and the road to recovery was still long. If only there was some way to speed things up, he would have taken it. He was sick of being tired, of being fragile, of the nightmares. Last night had been the first time he'd slept soundly, and even them he'd only managed it because Urahara had been there. He didn't begrudge him that, but he didn't want to have to rely on him. He was supposed to be the one protecting the people he cared about, not the other way around.
Both recognising that training was done for the day, they headed back upstairs with the others, pretending not to notice Orihime and Ishida holding hands.
After crawling up through the trapdoor they were surprised to find the usually noisy upper half of the shop quiet and almost lifeless. Ichigo's hairs stood on end and his hand flew to Zangetsu's hilt, resting there warily until he heard the unmistakeable voice of Yamamoto coming from down the hallway, presumably from the room where Urahara kept that ridiculous looking television type device that allowed them to communicate with Soul Society. The four of them made a silent, joint decision that none of them particularly wanted to be involved with that conversation and tiptoed the opposite way off down the corridor to the shop's messy but spacious kitchen. Safely inside with the door slid shut, Ichigo shook the dust from his hair and announced that he was going to go put himself back into his body and take a long, hot bath to soak the aches from his limbs. Bidding goodbye to his friends, he slunk off again down the corridor in the direction of the bathroom.
Despite his animosity towards the Captain-Commander, Ichigo couldn't help but be intrigued by what was happening in the meeting room, as well as slightly irritated but more grateful that he was being left out of it. And so, doing his best to cloak his reiatsu, he decided to take the long way to the bathroom, creeping quietly down the hall towards the slightly open door from which emanated several familiar voices.
"You can't be serious!" It was Urahara, his voice low but filled with hurt anger.
"There's no other option." Yamamoto's deep rumbling tones; Ichigo could never mistake that voice.
"I hate to admit it Kisuke, but the Captain-Commander is right… He may be the only one who even has a chance at getting close to the basta- to Aizen." Unmistakably Yoruichi.
Ichigo felt the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end, and his fingers itched to grasp his sword just as his feet longed to run from that place. But he seemed to be rooted there by sudden terror, and he had to know what they were talking about. Somehow he knew that it must involve him in some way.
"We can't possibly ask him to do that, not after everything he's been through already." He heard Urahara let out a pained sigh and he somehow knew the wounded expression that was twisting his face without even having to look. He had seen that expression before, too many times as of late. "How can we ask him to lead the charge, how can we possibly expect Ichigo to face Aizen alone?"
Ichigo felt his body go cold from the inside out.
"Maybe you should take a step back Kisuke. You're too emotionally invested here." Yoruichi meant well, but Urahara could've cursed her for bringing that subject up in front of the others.
"Maybe I am. But right now it seems that I'm the only one who actually still gives a damn about him." He scowled again at the figures on the screen above him; Yamamoto was flanked by his two favourites, Shunsui and Ukitake. Seated around the table in the room Urahara was joined by Yoruichi and her consort Suì-Fēng, along with captains Byakuya and the snow-haired Hitsugaya, and the shopkeeper was beginning to feel distinctly cornered and outnumbered in this argument. "We cannot ask him to do this. You have no idea what he's been through, Gods, he's just a kid!"
"And he's still our best chance, perhaps our only chance of winning this war." Yamamoto grumbled, his voice stern and leaving no room for argument.
Ichigo's heart leapt into his throat, his body suddenly regained the ability to move and he decided that he really didn't want to hear any more of the conversation, not this way. He fled as slyly as he could, his heart pounding as he held his hands over his mouth, the remnants of his lunch meal trying to force its way out of his stomach.
In the meeting room Urahara scowled at the Captain Commander and held his head in his hands as the screen went blank and the visitors departed, each with a heart a little heavier than when they had arrived.
"I'm sorry Kisuke… I know what he means to you." Yoruichi always knew, but there was little she could do to comfort him then.
Ichigo sunk into the bath, his heart and his head still pounding and fluttering. He felt bile in his throat from his now empty stomach and was ashamed at his reaction. He would have to face him again, but how could he do that when he couldn't even hear his name without vomiting? He sunk lower into the soapy water and wondered if fate would ever allow him to escape his captivity.
