Disclaimer: Kubo Tite and Viz own Bleach.
"I never let myself think about how he loved you," he tells her. "But it was worse to think about how I loved him and betrayed him over and over again for you."
"It wasn't any better for me," she said. "I knew he loved you and I used that knowledge to spy on him. If I had been more careful with him, maybe I could have stopped him."
"You know better than that," Ukitake said, frowning.
"I do now. We'd spent so much time wrapped up in one another that no one else really existed to us before you. And when we found a real person, what did we do? We tried to cut you in half and share you. We were selfish children."
The shift came on so gradually, Juushirou would not have noticed had he not been inclined to keep watch. He kept count of the days and months with the routine observation of change and non-change. Trees went from green to pink to gold to nothing; the river just beyond Rukongai flooded as normal and returned to its banks. Shunsui stayed lazy and wise; Kaien evolved and grew mature though no less excitable.
Yoruichi let her hair grow. When they had met the second time, it was cropped close to her neck, thick, dark and soft. Now it cascaded halfway down her back. He knew this because on some nights after she would brush and braid his own ivory locks, she would remove the binding that held her own hair up and shake her head, wordlessly daring him to touch it.
Tempted as he was, Juushirou had leaned the old art of self-denial. Set on that path, he followed it doggedly. The Keigun commander would laugh at his obstinacy and touch his face. His failure to make himself move away from her seeking hands the last time she did this was merely the warning sign of his finally being led astray. The giddy joy in him had turned into something he could no longer name. It prepared to seep out like water from an overflowing basin. He found he was not completely disappointed with his loss of resolve. A thousand times over in his dreams he loved and married a jet black cat. He was prepared to cross the line.
As soon as he knew how to broach the subject with Kisuke. He didn't anticipate rending of flesh and gnashing of teeth from the twelfth division captain. As dramatic as Kisuke could be, there was no jealousy of the amorous kind in him. There was merely that spark of sadness that could spread like wildfire and consume him. Juushirou had seen it once before. When, after years of mind splitting labor, Urahara produced his precious jewel. Or rather, he revealed his creation to his the friend he trusted just enough to be silent about it. Years later, Ukitake would ponder the length of time that existed between the creation and the revelation.
It was one of those secrets. Kisuke would only bring it to him after swearing him to absolute secrecy. Ukitake gave his solemn word and gasped when Kisuke produced the small, glowing object from somewhere on his person.
"All that and you brought it with you?" Ukitake chided, gesturing his guest to sit.
Kisuke's face, for the first time, remained grave. "No one can detect it on me. It has no aura. I've had it for a long time, Ukitake-sama. I've poured everything into it." His eyes were bright and hard. "It's horrible. And beautiful. I should never have—" he stopped, shook his head. "No, I don't regret it. But it must be destroyed."
Juushirou looked at him with growing alarm. "Then this is—"
"Hou Gyoku. It can change hollows to shinigami. And shinigami to hollows." Two short sentences that turned the world inside out. It was like Kisuke, Juushirou thought almost bitterly, to say such a thing so blithely.
"Why would you create such a thing?" The object flicked in Kisuke's hands as if its core had a life and memories of its own. Ukitake shuddered at the possibilities.
"To see if I could," Kisuke said. He was being honest. But his words hid a thousand meanings that all connected and mapped out his nature. A nature which Ukitake admired regardless.
"And now?" Ukitake asked.
Kisuke shook his head. "Old man Yamamoto would call it an abomination. I can't bring myself to disagree with that assessment. It could completely wreck the balance of nature."
Juushirou nodded. "What will you do?"
Urahara gazed at him and it was suddenly clear what state of mind he was in. His hunched shoulders, limp, dull hair clashed with the feverish glow in his usually calm gray eyes.
"Maybe Yoruichi--" Juushirou started.
"No." Kisuke's voice was hoarse now, desperate. "I can't stand the thought of her knowing. My whole life she's defended me. I can fight my own battles and I can fix my own mistakes. I'll find a way without her."
"What if you can't?"
A grim smile forced its way to Kisuke's lips. "I'll improvise."
They sat together in silence for what seemed like hours after that. Juushirou's mind was exploding with worst-case scenarios, but that wasn't what was tearing at his heart. For all Urahara's cold determination to keep Yoruichi clear of it, she already knew. Traveler sat where she had edged close to the twelfth division captain. Her cat-face was impassive but for the gleam in the great yellow eyes. She could not comfort him the way she did when they were children, with a swift cuff to the head and half a hug. Not without exposing herself. And Ukitake.
After Kisuke left, she rose on human feet and allowed Ukitake to cover her with a light blanket he kept for her use.
He wanted to asks her when she had arrived and what had told her to come just then. But the first words that came from his lips were far more important. "What will you do?"
She took a breath. "What can I do? He's shut me out." The tone of her voice stank of guilt and grief.
Ukitake would have given anything at that point to hold her, tell her everything would be okay.
But he didn't know if it would be and knew better than to lie to her. So they both stood there, avoiding each other's eyes.
By the time he thought of a soothing word, she was already gone. He went to bed very late, and when he woke coughing in the middle of the night, he let himself believe it was merely his guilt manifesting itself.
