Spent the weekend at Katsucon, a Yorusoi comission inspired me to update.

Thank you A.Y and Iris Chen for the comissions

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There was something definite about prison. The idea that there was absolutely nothing outside of the cement and metal was sickeningly comforting to him and he reveled in it because it was all he had. Visible through the bars of his cell was the almost sickly thin back of Ururu, how she'd gotten in she wouldn't say and she read her comic amongst the lewd gestures and comments of the affection deprived inmates.

He had told her already that she need not subject herself to their shouts just to keep him company. The response was a turning of her head and a smile from her normally sad eyes, "Don't worry, I'll stay here."

There was an anger in him, Yoruichi hadn't come to visit, granted it wasn't the end of the night he tried to give her slack but couldn't overlook the lack of gratitude from the reason he was here. The emotion had been magnified when his only phone call had been wasted on a call to Yoruichi's cell phone which had only yielded an explanation of Yoruichi's mostly unknown whereabouts from Kuukaku.

Only his god damned sense of honor kept him from the bitter taste in his mouth.

It wasn't very much.

A tall skinny man occupied the cell across the hall and was so far the only man who hadn't bothered Ururu, whether it be from misplaced kindness or annoyance he had even yelled for the cell block to "Shut their fucking mouths."

Urahara had made eye contact with him once or twice, or as much eye contact as you can make with a one-eyed man, his limbs were snakelike and his hair extended long passed his shoulders.

"Oyyyyyy."

Urahara looked up from his knees, they'd given him a white tee shirt but hadn't replaced his hat, the man was leaning through the bars, it was a wonder how his body didn't slip right through.

"Little girl, could you go grab me a soda."

He tossed a bill and it fluttered to the ground like a wounded butterfly, Ururu looked to Urahara for assurance before picking up the bill and hurrying down the hall.

"Shame letting her stay around a place like this. You her dad?"

He shook his straw head, "Guardian but not her father."

His response was a chin hitch, he seemed like a man that didn't know where his offspring might be.

"Why'd you take your vacation?"

It took him a second to realize it was a way of asking why he was in prison, he didn't know if it was lighthearted or not.

"Shot a guy."

Might as well stick with his lie, a lie is more convincing when you make it true, when you live it.

"Murder or manslaughter?"

"Should I call in my lawyer?"

The man chuckled good-heartedly, chuckling about murder, it didn't even seem out of place.

"They've got me I here for break n' enter with a side order of assault with a deadly weapon."

Ururu came back with a bottle and slipped it lengthwise through the cage, he nodded and gulped down most of it, there was a tattoo on his tongue.

"Kisuke Urahara."

He swallowed his beverage and gave a small quenched sigh, "Nnoitora Jiruga."

Soi Fong's body had a certain system to it, because she didn't handle emotion well it had a fail safe, when all else had no effect her body quickly switched into auto-pilot which, for her, was anger.

Being asked something as monumental as this by Yoruichi should've easily broke her tolerance and had her livid. Instead she felt claustrophobic, as if the reality she had wished for years ago had changed it's flight course and doubled back only to crash through the hospital ceiling and land neatly in her lap. It pressed in on her, pressed the air out of her lungs.

Yoruichi's eyes were seen in double, triple, they swam around her until she swam in them, a familiar golden pool. Her hands shook, trying to push the walls away.

It seemed Yoruichi was unsympathetic to the weak state of her physically and the fact that she was recovering from shock.

It was hard to remember that Soi Fong was not a super hero.

One of the machines attached to her started beeping, not in a threatening intrusive way, more of a cadence, a tempo for their conversation.

"I have the money and if you came with me…"

It was frightening to have to be the stronger one, Yoruichi was not here to rescue her but to beg her, to seek her validation, to have someone to run with and yet she couldn't help but listen.

"If your with me there won't be any reason for me to come back."

This was her goddess at the weakest, a goddess that had killed, guilty and stained with her own cowardice, a goddess she wasn't used to. Just as Soi Fong was not an invincible super hero, Yoruichi was not above her own impulses which were much too human for anyone's good.

So she realized just how absurd her fantasy was, her fantasy of running away with Yoruichi from the dirty city she knew and leaving behind the webs of people she knew. Too leave everything behind in the blind pursuit of love, it was admirable. Admirable and impossible. Admirable and senseless.

Her fantasy was so close and she couldn't take it because she was so damn responsible, so damn herself.

There was no reason to say the answer, they both knew it, it was a childish thing to make others cleanup your messes and they'd grown up in the last years.

"Go somewhere and sleep."

Was that feeling exhaustion? She'd hardly noticed it, she kicked her shoes off and crawled into the hospital bed beside the girl who was small enough to be her younger sister. Younger sister, lover, younger sister, lover, lover, lover, lover.

Matsumoto had found him, it had been easy to do, she'd carried Kira out of the club with a bloodied face and shaken him until he'd spit it out. It hadn't taken long, he seemed apologetic.

A street address and a password, it was a cliché entrance into the darkened basement of an unrecognizable building with a classic rectangle eye hole for a thug to look through and deem you worthy to pass the threshold.

It wasn't necessary to use the password, the door was open and the inside dark, she searched the rooms, alcohol and signs of recent inhabitants, a bloodied baseball bat in one of the closets, probably Shunsui's blood.

There was an eeriness floating around reminiscent of a haunted Halloween ride, the possibility for something around every corner but determination was an ocean in which fear drown and her voyage continued.

Continued into a dark upper room where the windows where covered in cloth, where a rotten smell filled the air and sitting in the corner with a lit cigarette was the fox faced of Ichimaru Gin.

The glowing embers cast ghost shadows on his already pale skin, it was the rooms only illumination. When they were children he'd like play tricks on her, stay perfectly still until she got close and jumped up to scare her.

"That's what ya' get' Rangiku, when ya' let people fool ya'"

He'd say with a victorious grin. Now he wasn't smiling, his eyes were open and looking at her, his clothes were bloody, she hoped to god there wasn't another casualty of this night, this city.

He spat the cigarette to the floor and crushed it with the heel of his hand.

His body was propped against a corner of the room, with the cigarette gone only moonlight that slipped like a thief through the fabric blinds could light their escapade.

He coughed to break the silence, to prove he was alive. It broke her restraint and she ran to sit kneel before him. He'd taken a bad beating but he wasn't dead, wasn't unconscious.

"I wasn't useful anymore." He said talking to her and the ceiling, "I suggested he use Kira, he couldn't find Kira to punish, guess it was my fault anyway."

Matsumoto wanted to tell him not to talk, she didn't want to here him explain why he was with Aizen, didn't want him to admit it to her.

"I only asked that they bring me out into the alley so I could see the sky, pity there weren't any stars."