AN: Updated 7/4/20
AN: Hey all, been away for a bit and just got back to writing. Again, just wrote and did a quick edit myself so appreciate it if you'd point out any glaring errors. Hope you enjoy it, please leave me your thoughts and comments.
Natasha stretched out lazily on the rooftop she had been using to watch Ichigo while he was at work. She'd taken Fury's advice to heart; the spy was trying very hard to relax during her vacation time, even if it was a somewhat alien experience. Sleeping in wasn't something that the Black Widow was used to doing. Her body had been systematically beaten until it could only accept five hours of sleep a day. At exactly 5:00 a.m. each morning, irrespective of where she was in the world, her internal biological clock woke her up regardless of when she actually went to bed.
After having witnessed the terrors that lurked in the darkness, it had been much harder to fall asleep. And that was really saying something for someone haunted by the memories of murdering countless people. As a consequence of long sleepless nights spent tossing and turning, laying in while the sun crept up over the horizon had actually felt good pretty good. Even if Natasha hadn't been able to return to sleep, her body had managed some rest with the extra hours in bed.
It had been a few days since the night Ichigo had walked her home. Natasha had kept her distance, preferring to watch him as he worked during the day. The height of the sun provided a pleasant shade over the corner of the rooftop that she liked to use when monitoring the unusual man. Her mornings consisted of languishing in bed past nine before heading to a local diner for an Italian inspired breakfast the Russian had discovered a taste for. Then she would meander her way back to her apartment to prepare for an afternoon of halfhearted reconnaissance.
The spy brought with her a book, a music player, and her laptop to keep herself busy. She alternated between reading, stealing the clinic's wifi to surf the web, and watching Ichigo work while she listened to classical ballet music. Lunch was usually in the form of a sweaty sandwich she purchased from a local eatery across the street from the private clinic.
It was an odd feeling really; she had not felt so alone since she had first started killing people for a living. Angelina was always a pleasant diversion for long boring recon missions. If she was off exploring the world, there was James, who was always up for a good distraction. Now it felt eerily quiet sitting unaccompanied on the rooftop, the tranquility making her skin prickle when she allowed her thoughts to wander for too long.
The silence made her restless, it just didn't seem natural after having spent half a lifetime surrounded by the chattering dead.
Natasha raised the binoculars to her eyes, zooming in on the distinct mop of orange hair. Ichigo was as stoic working in the clinic as he was when he had been destroying Hollows. There was no doubting his skill as a physician; his clinic wouldn't be so busy if he wasn't, but a people person Ichigo definitely was not. It was evident in the way he scowled at his patients, hands waving animatedly while lecturing them on their health before shooing them off with another stern warning.
Surprisingly the man was quite good with children. Although he didn't advertise as a pediatrician, a large number of parents brought their kids to him. He transformed somewhat in the presence of younger patients, seemingly becoming less irritated and more tolerant. He still scolded and gave his warnings, just in a less aggravating manner than with adults.
The spy smiled as she watched a little girl double back to give the man a hug around his knees while he awkwardly patted her back. It was nice to see this side of Ichigo.
A soft meow took her attention away from the binoculars. Turning her head, the Russian trained spy spotted the sleek dark cat that had found its way onto her section of the rooftop.
Smiling involuntarily, she watched the feline cautiously approach her. Natasha had always had a fondness for cats, sharing an odd feeling of kinship to the independent creatures that called no-one master. Perhaps it was admiration for their sovereignty despite their dependence on an owner to care for them.
She considered herself an independent woman, but if she was honest with herself, she had just traded one leash for another in joining SHIELD. The spy may prefer SHIELD's methods more, but still, it was only another leash.
This particular specimen was a fine example of feline grace, a young female with well-groomed fur and beautiful green eyes. It moved with deliberate motion, head held high, regal as any queen.
Natasha reached a hand out cautiously so as not to spook the stray, smiling again when it seemed to sniff at the appendage before exposing its flank for her to touch. It almost seemed like she was giving the human permission to pet her.
"Well, aren't you beautiful," Natasha cooed as she rubbed the animal's rump.
She was gentle with her stroking, knowing that any other spot would probably get her a swat of irritation from its claws. Cats knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to show their displeasure, another trait she shared with the proud creatures.
"Thanks. You're not half bad yourself."
The spy's hand froze, her eyes practically popping out of her head.
"Well, don't stop," chastised the dark cat as it peered up at her with its large jade eyes. "You were doing a pretty good job. Ichigo was never any good at petting me."
Her hand automatically returned to the soothing motion it had before, but her mind remained in its frozen state, not quite able to comprehend what she was currently faced with.
"What's the matter?" purred the feline as it stretched indolently under her strokes. "Cat got your tongue? I thought you'd be sharper from what Ichigo told me, but maybe he was wrong."
"You're a talking cat," Natasha finally managed to choke out over her astonishment.
"My, observant, aren't we?" deadpanned the animal.
The low, rich voice made the biting sarcasm cut deeper than it should coming from an animal. Although was there any right way to take sarcasm from a talking cat?
It seemed to finally tire of the physical attention, standing up and turning about to face her while swatting aside her hand with a long silky tail.
"So I heard from a little birdie that you've been watching Ichigo," the cat grumbled in its deep bass tone, sitting on its haunches. "Word is you've been asking a lot of questions. Questions he'd rather leave unanswered."
"There are things I've seen that I need answers for," Natasha said, finally getting past the fact that she was conversing with a cat of all things. "Those Hollow things, his powers. My powers."
The cat peered at her, circling her once and sniffing at her scent.
"Odd, it seems whatever power you managed to call on that night is dormant. Something you instinctively use but have no idea how to consciously summon."
"I know Ichigo can help me," Natasha said, following the animal's movement with her eyes but staying still herself. "These powers can benefit me in my line of work, help me save more people."
"Oh, Ichigo can help you alright," purred the cat as it turned and began ambling away. "But I doubt he would make a good teacher. The boy always had his own way of doing things, and his methods aren't something most can simply copy. If you're serious about trying to unlock your spiritual powers, then I suppose I can spend some time showing you a thing or two."
"You?" the redhead asked in surprise. "No offense meant, but what can a cat show me?"
The feline shook its head with a chuckle. "This old cat might know a thing or two; after all, I did teach Ichigo a lot of what he knows."
The unexpected revelation floored the spy somewhat, but at that point, she really should have come to expect it. What was a talking cat in comparison to learning about ghost monsters that could eat people?
Natasha sprang to her feet, abandoning her equipment as she chased after the cat that had taken nimbly off across the rooftop. She stopped and stared when the feline reached the edge of the roof and casually hopped the span of the street to reach the other rooftop almost sixty meters away.
It turned its head, tail flicking in an almost taunting manner.
"Follow me if you want answers," the cat sang out.
Grabbing onto the ledge, the spy lowered her body over the side of the building extending her arms their full span before letting go. Absorbing the three-story drop with her legs, she rolled with the momentum when she hit the floor, startling the pedestrians with her sudden entrance. Natasha instantly got back on her feet with little more than a dull ache in her ankles.
Thank god she wasn't wearing heels.
Dodging through traffic, she reached the other side of the street in record time, barely slowing as she weaved between honking vehicles. The closest ledge on the next floor was too high up, so she opted to use one of the many tools on her person instead.
Using the hidden micro-grappler mounted underneath her wrists, she launched a thin, nearly invisible wire up to the roof with a pneumatic hiss. Titanium hooks punched a hole through the granite and found purchase with little trouble. The ultrathin cable was a carbon nanofiber weave in a pattern based on spider silk, rated to hold up to half a ton before reaching tensile breaking point despite being thinner than a fishing line.
She walked up the side of the building, easing the tension placed on the reel on her wrist mounts as the miniature motors retracted the thin wire. Natasha cursed as she caught a flash of dark fur disappearing over the other end of the building. The spy launched herself after the creature, determined not to let her answers get away from her.
The reckless chase lasted almost twenty minutes, the cat leading her through a concrete jungle of rooftops, back alleyways, and tight turns. At one point, it had hurled itself over a bridge to land lightly on a fast-moving car, forcing Natasha to hitch a ride on the rooftop of a truck in the same manner.
By the time she finally caught up to the unnaturally agile feline, she found herself standing in front of Ichigo's home, the cat sitting on its haunches waiting for her.
"Not too shabby for a human," the feline praised offhandedly. "I'm impressed you were able to keep up with me, and on sheer muscle power too."
"Why are we here?" the spy asked, barely out of breath.
It had been a good chase, a part of her having enjoyed the exercise. There was a certain feeling of freedom when moving without constraint, to think laterally in how best to catch up to a target that was equally unrestrained in their attempt to escape capture.
"To talk, of course," the cat answered, getting up and heading for the entrance. "Get the door, would you?"
"I don't have the keys," replied Natasha with a frown. "Ichigo and I are hardly on talking terms, let alone house sitting."
It was odd seeing a cat roll its eyes, the gesture so human it just seemed wrong coming from an animal.
"Oh please," the feline snorted. "I can smell spy all over you. If you haven't ransacked his home by now, I'll eat my scat."
Sighing, the human mumbled unsavory things under her breath as she moved up to the door and began to pick the lock with the steel lock picks she kept on her person. It was true that she had been through Ichigo's home twice now while he was away at work, but it rankled her somewhat to be called out on it by a cat of all things.
It led the way in, casually ordering her to close the door.
When Natasha turned around again, the cat was gone. In its place stood a petite, athletic, dark-skinned woman with long purple hair, the strands falling almost all the way down to her waist. And really that was all there was to her. She was completely naked, seemingly unconcerned by the fact that her breasts and intimate area were exposed for the world to ogle at.
"Hmm, well, I suppose introductions are needed," the tanned woman said while tapping her chin. "The name's Yoruichi Shihouin, nice to meet you."
"Natasha Romanoff," the spy automatically replied. "And you're naked."
The woman opposite her looked down at her nude form and shrugged carelessly. "So I am. If it bothers you, I can go put on some clothes, I suppose."
It didn't really bother Natasha. Nudity had long since become something that was the least of her concerns. Hell, she considered her own body just another weapon to be used against the enemy. Seduction was just as effective as torture in the hands of a master.
Yoruichi was a very attractive woman, something the bisexual spy could appreciate. But, at the moment, she needed a second to collect her thoughts more than anything else.
"By all means," the redhead said with a gallant gesture away from the room.
"I'll never understand you humans and this nudity taboo of yours," grumbled Yoruichi as she prowled towards the staircase.
Natasha wandered over to a wall under the stairs where Ichigo kept pictures of his friends and family. She had given it a quick look the first time she broke in and a much longer examination after the night when she had learned about Hollows. At the time, she had been focused on a photograph showing a younger Uryu Ishida staring out haughtily from the frame, next to a scowling Ichigo and a large mix-raced young man and a teenaged brown haired girl with an impressive bust line.
Her eyes found the photo she had been looking for, one of Ichigo looking to be somewhere in his early twenties. The background was at a beach somewhere in the Caribbean, judging by the vegetation. A more youthful Ichigo was almost smiling in a pair of blue swim trunks, although he had a t-shirt on. The laughing brown beauty draped across his lap was most definitely Yoruichi, the distinct purple hair unmistakable.
Natasha hadn't given the photo much second thought when she had first seen it, figuring it to be a past girlfriend or something. Now with the cat woman in front of her, she had to wonder exactly what their relationship was. Yoruichi had said she had taught Ichigo much of what he knew, but the photo on the wall suggested a relationship far closer than that of a mentor and pupil.
"Yeah, that was me, must have been almost ten years ago."
The spy whirled around, having not heard or sensed Yoruichi approaching her. The dark-skinned woman was standing right behind her, arms crossed and dressed in dark gray sweatpants and an oversized black sweater. Both articles of clothing were far too large, hanging off her lithe frame in a baggy but surprisingly fashionable look.
"Those are Ichigo's clothes," Natasha noted astutely.
Golden feline shaped irises switched focus from the photograph back to staring at the redhead with keen interest.
"And so they are," Yoruichi replied cooly with her head cocked to one side. "Problem?"
The tanned woman asked the question casually enough, not a hint of hostility in her words. But from one woman to another, the underlying message was rather clear despite her bland tone. Territory marked and duly noted, cross at your own peril.
Natasha raised her hands up in a placating motion. "None from me. Just curious, his dossier doesn't mention anything about a girlfriend or wife."
Yoruichi grinned. "Well, I'm not quite his girlfriend and definitely not wifey material. I guess you can say I'm his…pussy on the side."
The redhead rolled her eyes at the crude joke. "You're hilarious. Do yourself a favor, and don't quit your day job. So you said you have answers for me?"
The now dressed caramel-skinned woman crossed her arms. "That depends on how far you're willing to go to find them. Learning to unlock your reiatsu isn't an easy process; in some cases, it can even be fatal."
The spy mirrored the other woman's posture and stance. "I've got about half a month left before I have to go back to my job. Risking my life is a bit of a requirement in my line of work. Try me."
Yoruichi chuckled. "Anyone can risk their life. Are you willing to risk your soul?"
Natasha paused at that. Anyone else who said that to her and she would dismiss it as a dramatic turn of phrase. Given the kinds of people Ichigo knew, something told her Yoruichi meant it quite literally.
The redhead nodded slowly. "I need to know for certain what it is I can do, what kind of world I actually live in. Please."
"Well, since you said please…"
Natasha followed as the other woman led her down towards the basement. It was dark, and when the single overhead lightbulb flickered on, it did little to cast aside the shadows. The room was entirely empty except for a single trapdoor that was situated in the middle of the basement. Natasha had seen it the first time she had come in but had found no way to open it no matter how hard she yanked on the handle.
Yoruichi bent over and hauled up the large panel by its rusty iron hinges, barely having to strain despite using only one hand.
The Russian frowned. There had to be some trick to it.
The beginning of a ladder could be seen over the empty space. When the spy bent over to peer down, she was shocked to see that it led into a brightly lit cavernous space that had to take up nearly twenty times the area of Ichigo's home
"After you," Yoruichi uttered with a mocking hand gesture.
Natasha scowled at the irritating woman and began to climb down.
AN: So if this is looking a bit familiar, well maybe because it is. No Avengers yet, I know I know. Patients, I'll get there. Let me know what's on your mind after reading this!