Uryuu didn't know how to feel about Urahara. The man was a Shinigami but he'd taken Uryuu in without question. Offered him a home and safety and a way to escape that man. He knew Uryuu was a Quincy and yet had done nothing about it, just offered him a place to stay and introduced him to the Kurosaki family.

(And now he offered training?)

(Why?!)

The uncertainty drove Uryuu to avoid Urahara at all costs. If he wasn't at school, he was holed up in his room, distractedly completing his homework and mulling over their last conversation again and again.

(Maybe if he looked hard enough, long enough, he'd find the lie.)

(There had to be one. There had to be.)

Kurosaki Ichigo left him alone the first day, and the second, and the third, and Uryuu hoped that meant Kurosaki would just leave him be until he finally sorted it out in his head. It wasn't anything that Kurosaki could help him with anyway.

(He didn't need Kurosaki's help anyway.)

(He didn't.)

(He was just fine on his own.)

Except Kurosaki didn't remain away. On the fourth day he left his sisters in the common room and approached Uryuu's room.

"Go away," Uryuu ordered the minute he felt Kurosaki's reiatsu outside his door.

(It was so warm…)

(No. He didn't need Kurosaki's help. He didn't.)

"Hmm. Not yet." The door creaked a bit as Kurosaki leaned against it. "Are you okay, though?"

"What part of go away don't you understand?!"

"You haven't hidden like this since you first came to stay. I… was it something I did? Or my sisters?" Kurosaki's reiatsu settled more firmly across Uryuu's senses, warm-concerned-caring, and Uryuu nearly choked on the whine that wanted to escape.

(Kurosaki was untrained.)

(He couldn't lie like that…)

Uryuu's silence only made the concern sharper, and the door inched open so that Kurosaki could peer in at him, brows furrowed. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, frown growing more pronounced as he scanned Uryuu.

"I'm fine," Uryuu muttered, looking back at the homework he'd been listlessly poking at.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Kurosaki hesitated only a moment before he stepped into Uryuu's room and slid the door closed behind him. He flopped down on Uryuu's futon and leaned into his side, peering down at Uryuu's workbook instead of focusing on Uryuu. "Want to talk about it?"

"Nothing's wrong," Uryuu denied, resolutely ignoring how warm Kurosaki was and working on another problem. "I just don't want company. Like I have before."

Kurosaki hummed. "If nothing's wrong, then why've you answered like half of those problems wrong?"

Uryuu froze and dragged his mind away from the problem of Urahara and onto the task at hand. Surely he hadn't done so poorly—

He had, he realized with a start, staring at the answers he'd written down. He didn't know if any of them were right and that was… concerning.

(How many assignments had he already turned in with such problems?)

He dropped his pencil onto the workbook and took off his glasses to rub at his eyes, struggling to hold back his tears.

(He couldn't cry in front of Kurosaki. He wouldn't. He wasn't a baby.)

"Hey, hey, it's going to be okay," Kurosaki murmured, wrapping an arm around Uryuu and pulling him into an unexpected hug. "Will you tell me what's wrong so I can help?"

"You can't help," Uryuu muttered while half-heartedly trying to escape Kurosaki's hug. He didn't want to give in, didn't want to accept, but… Kurosaki's reiatsu was like a warm, heavy blanket and his hug felt amazing. Giving in and slumping against Kurosaki's chest was such a relief that Uryuu couldn't help but wriggle closer and cling tight to Kurosaki's shirt.

"We won't know that for sure until you tell me."

He doubted it. Doubted Kurosaki could do anything for him. But Kurosaki was right: they wouldn't know for certain until he knew everything. "Promise not to tell anyone?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

"Promise."

Uryuu bit his lip and pressed closer, then reluctantly began, "Sensei… Sensei died this spring—" and once he started, it all came tumbling out in a tangle of hasty words. His grandfather's death because of the Shinigami being late. His mother falling into a coma and dying. Finding… that man… still fixated days later. Fleeing the hospital and being found by Urahara.

The offer.

(A home!)

The revelation.

(A Shinigami!)

The confusion.

(What should he do?!)

He was sobbing by the end of it, forcing his words through the lump in his throat and clinging desperately to Kurosaki. He couldn't stop, couldn't swallow it back, but Kurosaki didn't seem to mind, just continued to hold him close and gently rocked them as Uryuu ran out of words and just cried.

They stayed like that until Uryuu ran out of tears and slumped against Kurosaki in exhaustion, mind blank and eyes aching.

"What do you want to do?" Kurosaki asked after he'd given Uryuu a moment to gather himself. "And… does it really matter if Urahara is a… a Shinigami or not?"

Uryuu opened his mouth to declare that of course it did, then slowly closed it. Did it? He wanted to say yes, but… "I… I don't know," he admitted when Kurosaki prompted him with a questioning hum.

"So… so he left, right? He's not part of that group anymore?"

"I… don't think so," Uryuu agreed. He'd gotten the impression Urahara was as welcome with the Shinigami as he was with that man. "He… he did say he was lucky to escape…"

Kurosaki hummed in thought and rested his chin atop Uryuu's head. "Well, he probably didn't have anything to do with your grandfather's death in that case. And he took you in without question and never brought up the Quincy thing until the talk about becoming your guardian. So… so I don't think he cares about anything but you."

"He did say it could be dangerous." Uryuu wriggled in Kurosaki's hold, jabbing him in the side until Kurosaki took his pointy chin off Uryuu's head.

(The chuckle and hair-ruffle his wriggling earned him absolutely did not make him feel anything but annoyance. It didn't.)

"Makes sense." Kurosaki let his hand drop to Uryuu's back and tapped an absent pattern, reiatsu fluttering in thought. "Like how the teachers at my dojo don't want us practicing alone. Cause we can hurt ourselves if we do something wrong."

Uryuu considered it and had to admit it made sense. Sensei had given him the same restriction for about the same reason as Kurosaki said. Did Urahara have the same reasoning..? "Do… do you think Urahara-san wants to teach me..?"

"Maybe. That's something you should ask him, though."

"Should… should I accept his offer..?" Uryuu asked, wondering if Kurosaki had any thoughts on the matter. He was… tired. Tired of the uncertainty. Tired of the worry. Tired of second guessing himself over and over again.

Kurosaki was safe and warm and good — surely he'd know what Uryuu should do.

(And even if he didn't, even if he had no answer, just listening was more than enough.)

(He felt calmer than he had in days.)

"I would, but it's not my life. And call me Ichigo already!" Kurosaki grumbled without heat, poking Uryuu's side as he spoke. "We're friends."

Uryuu swatted at Kurosaki's hand and huffed, refusing the look up at the other boy. He didn't know what to feel, what to think, about the declaration, so he remained silent.

(Friends..? Were they really..?)

"Do you want to?" Kurosaki… Ichigo asked after a moment. And when Uryuu nodded before he could censor himself, Ichigo continued, "Then I think you should talk with him… he's missed you being around."

"He… has?"

"Yeah. He's just… I don't know…" Ichigo paused to consider his words, then said, "Quieter? He seems… sad, I guess."

"Oh," Uryuu murmured, thinking back to their last conversation. To how Urahara had folded over and put his head in his arms like he was tired. He'd thought that maybe Urahara was tired of the argument — or of him — but… maybe that wasn't the case? "When… when I left the room that night, Urahara-san sort of… folded over and put his head in his arms? I… I thought he was just tired, but…"

"Maybe," Ichigo agreed. "But he was talking about sad things, right?" So… maybe he was just dealing with sad memories."

"Why would he wait until I left, though? I… he…" Uryuu hesitated, struggling to sort out his feelings.

(What would he have done?)

(Would he have still fled or would he have lingered, confused and troubled and unable to help?)

(Maybe that was why Urahara had waited…)

Ichigo shrugged. "Adults are weird like that. They don't want kids to worry, so they hide when they're sad about stuff."

"Oh." Uryuu mulled that over, thinking on Urahara's words about running and hiding for decades from his own people. Did Urahara fear the Shinigami like Uryuu feared that man now?

"It'll be okay," Ichigo soothed, tightening his hug and digging his pointy chin into Uryuu's head again. "Just talk with him, please?"

"Will you stop that?" Uryuu grumbled, jabbing Ichigo in the chest until his friend chuckled and relented, moving his head so his chin wasn't being quite so obnoxious. Except without anything else to focus on, Ichigo's request lingered in his mind. "What if… what if he's changed his mind?" Uryuu couldn't help but ask.

"He hasn't, trust me."

"You're sure?" Uryuu felt Ichigo's nod and sighed. He hadn't known Ichigo for very long, but… he trusted the other boy. "Alright… I… I'll talk with him."

(Let his trust not be misplaced…)

"Thank you."

Uryuu expected Ichigo to let him go — their conversation was over and Uryuu had cried all over him, surely Ichigo wanted away? — but that didn't happen. Instead, Ichigo shifted both of them into a more comfortable position and kept holding him.

Uryuu couldn't find it in himself to protest.

Ichigo was safe-warm-kind and it was so easy to just… rest in his arms. So easy to relax and let his mind wander and not focus on anything for a time.

(He needed this.)

(So this was… friendship?)

(He'd do his best to remember.)