Oh hai. :D Ohisashiburi desu! *ducks missiles*

I know it has been over half a year since I've updated, and I'm sorry. I really have no other excuse beyond the fact that life is busy and my muse for this story is on its deathbed. But, like I said, I am finishing it, with four more chapters to go after this one. I hope you all enjoy it and wait patiently even though it might take me another six months to get out the next chapter. Thank you for reading!

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—Chapter Twenty-one—

—

"On three, ready? One…two…three!"

In a smooth movement, Renji and Byakuya both pulled the paper off of their gifts, revealing beautiful handmade boxes underneath. Slowly the two captains opened the lids together, their eyes widening in astonishment.

"Oh," Renji breathed, reaching into the box and pulling out an exquisitely tooled leather belt and sheath, stylized baboons and teeth marks representing his zanpakuto stamped deep into the leather. "Taicho…This is beautiful."

"I quite feel the same, Renji," Byakuya replied, removing his own gift, a book of poetry written by one of Byakuya's ancestors. "Where did you find this?"

"Oh," Renji grinned sheepishly. "It's amazing what you come across in the course of your duties."

Byakuya's lips thinned in an attempt to not smile. He imagined that there was probably much more to that story than Renji was letting on. "Indeed." He brushed his fingers across the cover of the book reverently. "I shall cherish this. Thank you, Renji."

"You're welcome, Byakuya." Renji's fingers traced the styling on the leather belt unconsciously as he watched his lover. "I hope that you will permit me to give you similar gifts in the future."

Byakuya looked up and finally could not prevent a small smile from breaking through his façade. "I think that would be most acceptable."

—

"Ichigoooo…" Renji twirled into his friend's temporary room, grin threatening to split his face in two. He flopped face first onto the bed and wriggled slightly, unable to contain his joy at the memory of the absolutely perfect date he'd just had with Byakuya. He popped his head up and turned his smile on his friend, who was sitting on the floor reading a book and firmly ignoring him. "I think I might actually have a chance at marrying him, Ichigo!"

Ichigo snorted and turned a page, still ignoring him. Renji frowned and rolled off the bed, straight into the orange-haired boy. "Hey. Pay attention to me."

Ichigo shoved his face away, still attempting to read his book. "I have no interest in the minute details of your courtship, Renji. I nearly walked in on you and Byakuya this morning and that was quite enough for me."

Renji flushed and scowled, propping his chin on his fists as he lay on his stomach and stared at his friend. "That was a special case and hopefully won't happen again until Byakuya is more firmly committed to this relationship."

"He seems pretty committed already," Ichigo muttered, turning another page. Finally fed up with being ignored, Renji uttered a war cry and launched himself on top of Ichigo, sending his book flying. The two redheads tussled on the floor, each trying their damnedest to pin the other. They were only interrupted when Ichigo's door flew open and Urahara sailed in, his single visible eye widening at the sight greeting him.

"Oh my," he trilled, fan fluttering wickedly in front of his face. "And what are you two up to, hmm?"

Renji and Ichigo glared at him from the floor. "Wha're you doin' here, Ge'aboshi!" Ichigo growled, somewhat hampered by the hand Renji had pressing his head back into the floor.

"I had wanted to talk to you about some things," Urahara replied breezily, "But I can see you're…busy."

Ichigo shoved Renji off and Renji went willingly, too busy laughing hysterically at the idea that they were doing something sexual. The orange-haired shinigami aimed a kick at his idiot friend, ears going red as he scowled at his teacher. "Next time knock, you idiot! This is my room!"

"Of course, Ichigo," Urahara purred, fluttering his fan suggestively. "We wouldn't want you to be caught in any…embarrassing situations."

Ichigo kicked him out the door, his entire face red now. "You wait outside!" he said. "I'll be out in like ten minutes, we can talk about your super-important things then!" He slammed the door on Urahara's laughing face, only to come face-to-face with an inquisitive Renji staring at him. "Um…what?" he asked nervously.

"What," Renji said, "Was that?"

"Nothing," Ichigo said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just Urahara being stupid as usual."

"I didn't mean that, though that's part of it," Renji said. "I meant your reaction to him. Is there something going on between the two of you? I've never seen either of you act like that around anyone else. It was supremely bizarre."

Ichigo went, if possible, even redder. "Nothing's going on!" he snapped. "Now get your butt out of here, I gotta go talk to Urahara."

"Okay, okay," Renji agreed. "But don't think this topic is closed. This is not the first time I've noticed something weird about you two, and don't think that just because I'm busy courting my own partner that I don't notice things." He gave Ichigo one last look, then grinned and waved, hopping out the window.

Ichigo let his head thunk back against the door and groaned. "Fuuuck. Why do people keep asking me about this when I don't even know myself?" Sighing, he threw on a pair of shoes and left his room to talk to his perverted sensei.

—

"Hey," Ichigo said, dropping down next to Urahara. "So what's the big deal, huh?"

Urahara turned to face him, his fan fluttering gently. "Oh, not much. I was just wondering about your decision to become fukutaicho. Have you accepted yet?"

Ichigo scowled and looked away across the rooftops of Seireitei. "No. I'm pretty damn sure I want the job, but I haven't told Renji yet. He'd been so busy with the start of this courtship thing…"

Urahara nodded, humming thoughtfully. "Well, that should settle down soon. They've mostly gotten past the initial stages now, and will just be spending lots of time together with an occasional ceremonial demonstration. There are certain landmarks, but overall it will become much less public now."

Ichigo gave him a suspicious look. "You sure know a lot about it, old man. Ever courted anyone?"

"Oh my goodness no," Urahara said, smiling. "And I don't plan on it. A life with me is not something to be desired. So, shall we train?"

Ichigo blinked. "Um, sure." He followed his sensei off to a training ground, deciding to think more about it some other time.

—

Life in Seireitei settled down after that, everyone relaxing from the tension that had been prevalent across the city. Ichigo took up the position of fukutaicho with much grumbling and fights with Renji. The Fifth Division was getting used to replacing doors and furniture, as one of their taicho were constantly getting tossed around. It brought a much-welcomed life into the otherwise very quiet division.

Ichigo was happy with the situation. He enjoyed being a fukutaicho very much, and visited his family and friends in Karakura often. The Vizards were hanging out as well, taking a look and giving their opinions on the governing of Seireitei.

The only thing worrying him was Urahara.

The old captain had become very quiet, wandering around the city and watching everything from below the brim of his striped hat. Ichigo didn't know what the man was thinking, but it seemed serious, and that worried him. His teacher always brushed it off whenever he tried to bring up the subject, so Ichigo just tried to get the man to spar with him as much as possible and hoped it helped distract him a bit.

The situation came to a head one otherwise quiet day, when Ichigo felt Urahara's reiatsu spike from all the way across the city. His head shot up, startled, and he nearly overturned a pile of reports as he tried to pull on his zanpakuto and reach the door at the same time.

He slammed open his door just as Renji slammed open his, shouting, "Ichigo!"

"I know," Ichigo said, tightening his sword belt with a last yank. "It's over by the Twelfth. What is he doing?"

They dashed across the city, using shunpo to skate along the rooftops. Other captains and vice-captains were heading in the same direction, and Ichigo skidded to a halt before he could run into Kenpachi's back. He wiggled his way through the crowd until he could see, and his mouth fell open.

Urahara was standing in the middle of a still-smoking blast zone, zanpakuto out and held quietly at his side. He was facing off against Kurotsuchi, who looked shocked behind all of his face paint. Neither shinigami acknowledged their audience.

"What is going on?" Ichigo whispered, stunned.

"Shh," Byakuya murmured next to him. "I believe Urahara Kisuke is challenging Kurotsuchi for captaincy."

Ice cascaded down Ichigo's spine, and his eyes fixed on his sensei. "What?"

"Shh," Byakuya murmured again, and Renji laid an arm around Ichigo's shoulders comfortingly.

"It'll be okay," his friend muttered gruffly. "You know Urahara. There's no way he would lose to that sadist."

Ichigo was not reassured—quite the opposite, in fact, as he remembered every time he'd seen Kurotsuchi fight (which wasn't that often, to be honest, the coward). Kurotsuchi did not fight fairly. At all. He used tricks and traps and, if necessary, treachery. If Urahara did not win, he would most likely die.

From the center of the blast zone, Urahara finally spoke. His voice was measured and even, but cold rage filled every syllable. "I challenge you, Kurotsuchi Mayuri, to one-on-one combat for the captaincy of Division Twelve."

Kurotsuchi was silent for a moment, before laughing softly. "Of course, Urahara. I accept. I am surprised that you think you can beat me, however. I will enjoy experimenting on your body."

Ichigo bared his teeth, fear-tinged rage filling him at those words. His short nails dug into his palms, and he spared a brief thought that he would most likely be bleeding before the fight was over.

"Cry," Urahara said softly. "Benihime." His reiatsu washed over the crowd as his shikai was released.

Kurotsuchi seemed slightly taken aback, but did the same. The air trembled as the two powerful reiatsu met, and then tore as the shinigami met in battle.

Half of the time Ichigo was unaware of what was happening, his vision obscured by dust and flying rock as the ground shuddered under his feet. The other half of the time he felt as though a scream was constantly caught in his throat as he watched possibly the most vicious battle he had ever seen. Kurotsuchi was predictably sadistic and cowardly, using various special inventions in attempts to take his opponent down. But Urahara…Urahara was relentless. He moved forward steadily, eyes never leaving his opponent and showing no visible reaction to Kurotsuchi's taunts and attempts at mind-fuckery. Some of the words blew to them on the wind, and Ichigo could feel his nails piercing his palms at the absolute baseness of the twelfth division captain's tactics.

One such comment finally had an effect, Urahara drawing back slowly to stand still, staring at his opponent. His hat had been lost an hour ago, as had his outer robe, lost to an acid attack. His clothes were dusty and ripped, and he was bleeding in a few places, but he had only just begun breathing heavily—unlike Kurotsuchi, who was panting as though he was running a marathon. The twelfth division captain allowed the pause, taking the moment to gather himself and grin widely.

"What did he say?" Ichigo whispered, standing on tiptoe as if that would help him see better. "Did anyone catch it?"

Yachiru giggled from atop Kenpachi's broad shoulder. "I think he said something about you, Berry-tan!"

"Me?" Ichigo frowned, looking back at the battleground. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would an insult about me get Urahara riled up?"

Renji chuckled. "I wonder. Just watch, Ichigo. I think the fight's almost over."

"Oh, did I strike a nerve?" Kurotsuchi's sickly sweet voice floated faintly to them in the silence. "I'm sorry, I didn't think you cared so much for that orange-haired brat." He made as if to continue, but Urahara attacked, and his words were lost in a shriek.

Ichigo gasped in awe. If he thought Urahara had been intent before, it was nothing to now. He was utterly relentless, pressing forward constantly despite Kurotsuchi's frantic defense. In desperation the captain called out his bankai, and the release of reiatsu made Urahara pause for a moment—but only a moment.

"Foolish." The word drifted faintly to their ears, and Ichigo's eyes widened and then shut as the ground shuddered and groaned beneath their feet, and the air shrieked above them. He stumbled, grasping tightly onto Renji to keep his balance, feeling sand and rocks graze his face.

Then the world settled, and everything fell silent.

Ichigo opened his eyes and desperately searched for his sensei's form, panic rising in his throat as he couldn't see anything through the slowly settling dust. "Kisuke!" he cried. "Kisuke!" He shot forward, wrenching out of Renji's grip and ignoring the shouts from behind him, desperately running toward the last place he had seen the combatants. He couldn't feel any reiatsu. At all. What had happened?

As the dust settled further, his eyes caught the massive form of Kurotsuchi's bankai, lying still and unmoving. He dashed for it, heart in his throat.

Kisuke was kneeling next to Kurotsuchi, hands clenched around the hilt of his zanpakuto, which was buried deep in the captain's chest.

"You…have not…defeated me…yet," Kurotsuchi rasped, coughing. "I cannot die!"

"Yes," Urahara replied, "I have. And everyone dies, Kurotsuchi Mayuri. Even death gods." With a jerk, he dragged his sword down Kurotsuchi's body, effectively gutting him.

With a last wailing shriek, Kurotsuchi Mayuri fell silent for the last time. His bankai form shivered and then melted away, leaving his broken human form lying in the dust, looking frail and empty to have harbored one of the most sadistic men in history.

Urahara yanked his sword from the man's body and wavered once before collapsing. Ichigo dashed forward and caught his shoulders, letting the man fall against his body.

"Kisuke," he said urgently. "Kisuke, look at me." He felt the other division leaders crowd around them but didn't remove his gaze from his teacher's face.

Urahara's eyes were barely open, and a weak smile flitted across his face. "Ichigo," he murmured. "I won, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did," Ichigo replied, holding back his tears through a supreme effort of will. "You're captain of the Twelfth again."

"Good," Urahara sighed, eyes closing completely. "I couldn't let…that guy…destroy my division…anymore…" he slumped in Ichigo's arms, unconscious.

"Kisuke," Ichigo said, panicked. He looked up at the crowd. "Where's Unohana!"

"Here, Kurosaki-kun," Unohana said calmly, kneeling next to him. Fourth Division members began pushing through the crowd to help their captain. Unohana did a quick scan of his body, then carefully lifted him onto a stretcher held by some of her members. "He's very weak, but he should be okay with a lot of rest as long as Kurotsuchi did no long-lasting damage. Don't worry." She moved calmly away with the stretcher, the Fourth Division members scurrying around her as she gave them orders.

Ichigo stared after it, numb. The Vizards slowly trickled out of the crowd to stand by him as well, all of them staring after the still form of their unofficial leader. Renji pushed in and curled an arm around his shoulders. "Come on," he said quietly. "You can visit him later. Let's get you home."