Disclaimer: Bleach is a manga created by Kubo Tite, published in Shonen Jump, and Viz Comics. This fanfic is all me though.
Author's Note: The timeline for this fanfic begins just before Abarai Renji shows up, so… this means the fanfic is AU (alternate universe). Please take that into consideration as you read.
June 13, 2005
Close Encounters
A Bleach Fanfiction
By: Shun'u
IV: Shoten
"Urahara?" Rukia called out to the eerily silent shop.
Stepping through the doorway, to enter its neatly arranged confines, she let the door snap shut behind her. Dust motes could be seen as afternoon light filtered through the blinds to cast soft rays into the shop, illuminating shelves of dried foods and pickled vegetables. Any passerby would assume that the Urahara Shoten was a typical family run local grocery with the standard items in stock. What they didn't see was what was in the back room where the eclectic and unique items particular to this store were kept.
Rukia gingerly felt her way through the dark interior, curious as to where the regular shopkeeper and workers were. If Tessai weren't there to greet customers then either Jinta or Ururu normally were. The deceptively normal children actually served better than most as watch guards.
"Ururu?"
"Jinta? Tessai?"
Rukia felt her toe come up against something towards the back of the shop. Hands came up to feel around her for a light switch. Finding one along the far wall, she flicked the overhead lights to life. She covered her eyes hastily as they blinked and became teary from the sudden brightness.
"Kuchiki-san?"
Tessai's looming form was a vague shadow to her adjusting eyes. For a moment the only feature that she could see clearly was the dark outline of his carefully shaped mustache. "Tessai? Where is everyone?"
"Oh, Jinta and Ururu were sent on a task for the manager." Tessai politely ushered her past the back door into another room that was obviously intended as living quarters. "Would you like to see the manager?"
"Yes, please," Rukia said. She finally lowered her hands and followed Tessai through a curtained doorway. "Why is the shop closed today?"
"Ah, Urahara-san says that he has an important project to work on today, and that he doesn't have the time to run the shop."
Rukia slanted a disbelieving glance at Tessai, and saw how his shoulders were tense and that his hands were opening and closing rhythmically in an unconscious show of distress.
"I see," she murmured. "And what do you think is the real reason?"
Tessai's hands relaxed and he sighed. "Well, perhaps Urahara-san was anticipating a visit from his most honored customer."
Rukia didn't know how to respond to that – so she didn't. Nodding her head to show that she had heard him, Rukia pushed through the curtains separating the main shop from the private quarters in the back. There she found Urahara happily rummaging through a box of… well… junk. If she had had a better or kinder way of wording it, she would have, but seeing as everything that he tossed to the side upon digging it out of the box was very clearly junk she couldn't conjure up the energy and creativity required to think of a euphemism.
Lightly stepping through the landmine of useless knickknacks and old clothes, Rukia closed in on the uncharacteristically focused Urahara. Some portion of her mind expected him to jump up and hop to another half finished project, as he was never one to have all of his attention focused on one thing for very long. Rukia always chalked up his apparent attention deficit disorder to the sheer genius that kept his brain working overdrive at all times. There were reasons why Urahara, a former Shinigami of the Captain ranks, had been exiled from Soul Society. The savant was simply too dangerous to have around.
"Urahara," she called.
"Hm?" Something small and furry flew by Rukia's head. She canted to the side to avoid getting her head lobbed off by the following set of throwing knives.
"Urahara!"
"Eh? What? What?" Urahara finally peeked over his shoulder at the very outraged and very feminine yell that did not belong to Tessai or either of the children under his employ. Tilting his stripped hat back to get a better view he scoured the shop for the source of that yell. He found her with her back against one of the crates lining the wall. Rukia stood huffing from the aftereffects of her minor scare, trying to catch her breath and pressing a hand to the rapidly beating heart in her chest.
"Ah! Kuchiki-san, what brings you here so early in the evening?"
A small hand fisted on either side of her, Rukia marched up to where Urahara was still kneeling. Urahara smirked as her desire to punch him came through louder than words from eyes that banked a dark fire. He had only been playing with her, of course, curious as to how deep her patience ran these days. Once upon a time, Kuchiki Rukia would have been storming into his shop and making demands instead of courteously waiting on him. She had changed; as had he. There had been a time when he would not have offered assistance free of will and out of friendship. His mercenary soul had always set a price on every service and demand – until now.
"Urahara," Rukia almost bit her tongue to keep from yelling at him.
She needed this particular Shinigami's help and she could not risk alienating him with her temper. Taking a deep breath she conjured up a mental image of Ichigo being hunted down by a hoard of Soul Society assassins. There was a high possibility of this happening, and that thought alone was enough to sober her up. Rukia turned somber eyes upon the observant shopkeeper.
"I'm in trouble."
Urahara tucked his chin into his chest and crossed his arms to tuck both hands inside the opposite sleeve of his outer shirt. He hummed, and Rukia couldn't tell if it was in agreement or acknowledgement. Her brow creased with a worried frown.
"What's that hum for?" she asked impatiently.
"Rukia-chan," Urahara began walking further back into the shop, past the storage area and towards the living quarters. For once his voice was serious and lacking that devil may care attitude that was so much a part of his charm. "Come with me. This discussion is better done in a more comfortable place than a storage room, don't you think? I'm sure Ururu has some cold barley tea and snacks prepared for us in the refrigerator."
Ichigo paced his room. He had been doing so for the past hour so it was with something akin to surprise that he did not see any physical evidence of his anxiety yet – no worn groove in the floorboards to show for his pacing.
Rukia had been gone for too long and he was beginning to think that maybe he should have searched for her sooner in case a Hollow had decided to make an appearance. It would be just like her to try to take one on without calling for him. Her pride wouldn't allow her to run away. Ichigo sped up his circular path. A glance at the clock on his desk showed that it was nearing eight in the evening. Dinner had come and gone and he had had ample time to catch up on all of his homework and even do some extra for the following week.
School had always been one of those things he took great care and pride in. Growing up with his outlandish coloring hadn't been easy. Being motherless for half of his life hadn't helped either. His father took pride in the fact that his son was able to beat the hell out of challengers and didn't bother to discipline him when he got into fights. Every time Isshin had been called to the school because of a fight Ichigo had been involved in he showed the proper outrage. However, that small amount of parental guidance disappeared into thin air as soon as they stepped off of the school grounds. From then until they reached home all Ichigo would hear was how he had made his father proud by not being a pushover. Soon enough Ichigo developed a frightening lack of conscience when it came to brawling. It wasn't that he started fights. It was more that the fights came to him. He didn't know when or why or how he had become a trouble magnet, but the fact remained that bad things tended to happen around him.
Logically, Ichigo knew that Rukia was more than capable of taking care of herself, that she was in fact much older than her appearance led credence to. Logic had nothing to do with the gnawing fear inside of him. Thoughts of his mother swirled up to the surface and became confused with his mental image of Rukia. He shook his head to dispel the parallels his overtaxed brain was making between Rukia and his mother. They weren't the same. Rukia had the skill and knowledge to come out of any battle with the upper hand. He didn't have to worry about her. He shouldn't worry about her.
That did not stop him from grabbing up his jacket and heading towards his bedroom window. Ichigo had one leg out the window before he remembered that he had to keep up appearances for his family. Cursing under his breath he drew back in and marched over to the half closed closet door. Pushing it open, he searched for the bag of stuffing known as Kon.
The stuffed bear was snoozing heavily in the middle of Rukia's pillow. The mod-soul was oblivious to everything around him as he lay with his button nose pressed into the pillow. Ichigo suppressed the bewildering twinge of jealousy he felt at seeing the stuffed animal so comfortably ensconced in what amounted to Rukia's bed.
"KON!"
"Aaaah!" Kon leaped up into the air. He landed on both feet with arms raised in a classic kung fu pose. Ichigo rolled his eyes.
"You've been watching too many kung fu movies," Ichigo commented wryly. Then he realized that the bear was still asleep while standing. "Hey, wake up."
A snore was Ichigo's only answer. An evil glint flickered in the depths of Ichigo's brown eyes. He picked up the sleeping bear and brought him to the bathroom opposite his bedroom. Dropping the still sleeping mod-soul into the sink, Ichigo turned on the cold water full blast.
Kon screamed and came to wide awake. Ichigo watched with quite a bit of amusement as Kon batted at the cold stream of water and tried to climb up the slippery porcelain sink only to slide back down into the pool of water.
"Ichigo! What do you think you're doing to me? I'm gonna tell Neechan and she'll beat the living daylights out of you! You'll regret this!"
"Shut up, you whiny baby." Ichigo scowled. "You're always running to Rukia with your complaints. Can't you take your punishment like a man?"
"Punishment for what?" Kon screeched, by now completely drenched and unable to do anything about it as his stuffed limbs felt like lead weights.
Ichigo shut off the spigot and picked Kon up none too gently. He proceeded to wring water out of the bear despite Kon's irate yells. Roughly towel drying the stuffed animal, Ichigo returned to his room and set the bear down on his desk. Kon continued muttering curses which Ichigo ignored.
"Hey, take my place, I have to go somewhere," Ichigo said bluntly.
"What?" Kon gaped. "That's what this is about?"
Ichigo glared. "Yes, if you had woken up like a normal person I wouldn't have had to drown you in water."
"Well, how about shaking me awake instead?" Kon yelled. Impressive beads of tears rolled down his fuzzy cheeks. Ichigo wondered how the hell the bear was able to make tears without tear ducts.
"You want me to shake you now?" Ichigo replied to Kon's question.
Kon's shoulders drooped and Ichigo could almost see the bear's aura shrink down into a small tight knot.
"No…" Kon sighed in defeat. He just couldn't fight someone that much bigger and… well… uglier than him. Lord knew what the orange head was capable of when he was this irritated.
"All right," Kon conceded. "I'll take your place until you get back. I just have to sleep, right?"
Ichigo was already squeezing the Soul Pill out of Kon before the mod-soul's sentence could be completed. Now in full Shinigami attire and with the zanpaku-to at his hip, Ichigo quickly strode to the window, feeling that pressure in his chest that always preceded trouble.
"Yeah," Ichigo said, "and maybe go to school tomorrow if I don't get back in time."
Ichigo glared at him, and the mod-soul could see the thoughts running through Ichigo's head. Kon shuddered as his imagination went into overdrive.
"And behave. Don't do anything you'll regret later."
With that cheerfully issued threat hovering over him like a storm cloud, Kon sighed and dropped into the bed Ichigo had never laid in all night, pulling the covers up to his chin. Eyes heavy, he hoped that Rukia was all right. He knew without asking that there was nothing else, short of his family, which could have driven Ichigo into such a state of unease.
End Part IV
Author's Note: Sorry for the short chapter. ;; I'll try to make the next one a bit longer.