Kisuke Urahara sat on the wooden porch behind his store, gazing out at the spacious garden. To his right was the raised training area where Sakura had once worked on her agility and balance. The rest of the garden was filled with blossoming trees, though in the darkness of the night they looked skeletal and full of shadows. Cross-legged, Urahara poured himself another cup of tea, paused briefly to turn his head, and then reached for a second cup.
"May I offer you a drink?" He spoke to a thick patch of shadow nestled in the far corner of the porch. A figure emerged, stepping out from the darkness.
"Thank you."
Jushiro Ukitake seated himself without preamble.
Handing him the cup brimming with steaming tea, Urahara tilted his head, the breeze ruffling his short, pale hair. His trademark green and white hat on the wooden slats beside him.
"It's been a long time, Jushiro. I am surprised your were able to come."
Ukitake took a polite sip of the tea before placing it before him.
"The general is monitoring my movements to ensure I do not attempt to enter Hueco Mundo, but we all know that would require a great deal of energy. Energy I do not have. He is unconcerned with the human world."
"His folly."
"Indeed."
Ukitake tilted his head to look up at the sky. Heavy clouds were gathering to the west, and the atmosphere was oppressive, though a cool breeze promised cleansing rain.
"I do not know your intentions towards my daughter. I have yet to understand what warrants your interest, Kisuke. But you have always been someone she could come to, and I owe you a great debt."
Urahara looked at the Shinigami captain beside him, his expression unreadable.
"Maybe I find her agreeable because she's so difficult?"
"Like you, you mean?" Ukitake chuckled softly, lifting his cup and cradling it between his hands for warmth. "No, I am not fooled by this act of yours, Kisuke. You might come across to the children as a crazy old fool but I know what a sharp, scheming mind you have. I am sure your interest in my child is not merely altruistic."
The corners of Urahara's lips turned up in a small smile, though the expression in his eyes was guarded.
"She was alone when she came to me."
Ukitake's jaw clenched, and his eyes clouded with anger and regret.
"There's so much she still hasn't told me."
"She's not one for words."
Ukitake had to smile at that, thinking of his impetuous daughter.
"No."
Finishing his tea, Ukitake stood, looking tired but determined. Urahara rose also, keeping his silence.
"I never thanked you for all that you have done for Sakura."
Ukitake held out a hand, and after a brief pause, Urahara shook it. His task completed, Ukitake went to leave, but something made him pause. His face still in the shadows of the porch, he glanced back at his fellow Shinigami.
"Did you know? Did you realise she was my daughter?"
Urahara shrugged his shoulders elegantly.
"Would it make a difference?"
Ukitake shook his head, eyes clouded with emotion. He turned his back on Urahara.
"It's going to get crowded here." And then he was gone.
Urahara returned to his silent vigil on the porch. He looked down at the hand Ukitake had shaken where a small round device now sat nestled in his palm.
He smiled.