Chapter 2

As the laughter of his friends found him, he laughed together, a grin plastered to his face even if he didn't even know what they were talking about at the moment. He jostled, a warm arm falling over his shoulders, and turned to face Renji's smirk.

"Hey, Ichigo," Renji waved a cup of some unknown drink under his nose, and Ichigo retreated as best he could without dislodging Renji from him. "How you doing, man? You're uncharacteristically quiet. Grab a drink, I bet it'll make you feel better!"

He shook his head, mouth pulling into a grimace. "You know I don't drink, bastard," he complained, pushing the cup away. With a shrug, Renji drank it all in a single gulp, and burped loudly. "Disgusting." He sighed. "Would you let me go, now? You stink."

"Sorry, princess," Renji snickered, lifting his arm away. By the flush on his face, and the pointed grin on his mouth, Ichigo knew he was well on his way to being drunk, and simply shook his head in place of the retort he'd usually give him.

Once Renji had lumbered off, laughing with Rukia about something or another, and Ichigo was left alone again, drinking his soft drinks and eating one of the cinnamon buns (and damn but it was good), he finally allowed himself to look down at his right hand again.

Just as he'd come to expect, there it was; a bright red burn mark, covering the interior of his fingers and the upper area of his palm. At least, Ichigo had discovered the man hadn't lied when he said there weren't any blisters. Those were little fuckers; even though he couldn't really feel the pain, just the sight of them always drove him crazy.

He sighed, taking a sip of his soda. He shouldn't even be thinking about it, really. He'd made himself pretty clear on this subject.

… Even if the man didn't know about it yet.

"Stupid," he grumbled to himself, scratching at one of his red fingers. He was being stupid. He hadn't done anything, in the end. He hadn't… he hadn't rejected the baker.

He'd just…

Ignored it. Ignored him. Ignored them.

He sighed again, finishing his cup of soda, and turning to get some more. As he leaned to grab the soda bottle, however, he found Ishida's eyes, staring straight at him, piercing and condemning, and he shivered in response.

Fuck Ishida. How did he…

But, now, he couldn't know. No one knew. Just Ichigo. Only Ichigo was aware of the twin marks marring their skin. Only Ichigo was aware of those grey eyes and the scars underneath his fingers that felt so damn familiar.

There was no way Ishida could have even an inkling. He was just being paranoid. Of course.

He capped the soda bottle again, and grabbed another cinnamon bun, ignoring the pizza for now. Really, he hadn't done anything wrong. There weren't any rules saying that once a person knew who their soulmate was, they should reveal it. And, considering how Ichigo didn't have any interest in being someone's soulmate, this was just a kindness.

Yeah, that's right — he was being kind. If he had told the man they were soulmates and then ran away, then Ichigo would have rejected him. As it stood, however, he'd just…

Taken the easy damn way out.

He laughed sharply, drawing Chad's attention.

"You okay, Ichigo?" Chad asked, quiet but reassuring as always.

He offered a grin at Chad, grateful for the distraction. "Nah, I'm fine." He turned around, knocking shoulders with him. "So, is everything to your liking?"

Chad still sent him a knowing look, but smiled nonetheless, "Of course. You didn't even need to prepare all this, you are aware."

Ichigo shrugged. "Eh, but we wanted to. It's your birthday, and it's only natural for us to throw you a party. It's not as good as paying your ticket to visit your grandmom or anything, but…"

Chad ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Do not worry about it. This is more than enough, Ichigo."

"If you say so." Yeah; this was what mattered. His friends, his family. The people who chose him. The ones who stood by him through thick and thin. Not someone who fate decided was made for him.

If he flinched just slightly when — as a glare revealed — a new scar appeared on his fingers with a slight tingle, then it was his own damn business.

(But he'd still really appreciate if his soulmate could be a little less clumsy, damn it.)

.

Later that week, Ichigo was studying — a pile of medicine books spilling out over his desk, diagrams and notes and so damn many markers —, and he found himself distracted. He knew he needed a break, but he had been planning on studying for just an hour more, just one more… and then he looked down at the page of his book, saw a picture of tendons and nerve-ends, and saw his own fingers splayed over them, scratched and red and familiar, and thought of grey eyes.

Grey eyes, blond hair spilling over a tired face, and a burn mark blossoming over his hand even as he tended to a twin one.

Ichigo couldn't believe he'd found his damned soulmate.

Alone in his room with only books to keep him company, Ichigo realized he had no excuse not to think about it, anymore. About the grey eyes staring up at him and the flashes of something else, about the hard pressed lips and the softness of another's breath, and the sensation of familiar scars under his touch. Here, distracted, Ichigo realized he couldn't stop thinking about the baker he'd never even got the name of.

What the hell.

"What the hell," he repeated out-loud, leaning back on his chair and closing his eyes to stop staring at his (at their) scars. "He's a stranger. He's just a stupid baker I stumbled across. He means nothing." The 'to me' echoed wordless in his mind.

Ichigo didn't even believe in soulmates, for shit's sake.

I mean, sure, it's obvious that soulmates exist and shit, but, really, 'fated partners'? What did that even fucking meant? There were so many romantic stories woven around soulmates, so many stories of two people destined to meet and live together, destined to love each other from the very moment they met… and it all meant nothing. Ichigo knew that; his parents had been very much in love with each other, and very clearly happy together, and they weren't each other's fucking soulmate. His mother had never even met hers, and his father's had died when they were younger (and, from what Isshin told them, they'd never even got along). So, really, it was completely ridiculous.

Of course… there were also those who were soulmates, and were happy together. People like Ishida and Inoue, and Yuzu and Karin, and Ichigo was happy for them, he was. But he wasn't convinced it had anything to do with being soulmates or fated. To Ichigo, if they were happy, they were happy because they were. Because they were friends; because they were in love, or because they were sisters. Not because fate said so.

Fate was… a complete bullshit reasoning. Just an excuse for someone to make a grab at someone they just met and decide they were more than mere acquaintances.

… Still, Ichigo supposed he could understand the… glamour behind it. Even Yuzu saw it, sometimes; not that she wished for someone different, she and Karin were very happy with each other, but… Yuzu sometimes would talk about it with Ichigo, about how she wished he could find his soulmate, so he'd finally meet someone to make him happy. Because that was the promise, wasn't it? If you share someone's marks, then you should also share their happiness. If you have the potential to share pain, then you should also share their joy. It was a beautiful, if futile, promise.

And Ichigo never wanted to have to go through with it.

Especially now that he'd found his soulmate in a complete stranger he wasn't even likely to ever see again. Soulmates were supposed to be their one and only, yet… yet it felt so utterly…

(disappointing)

"Normal," Ichigo sighed, finishing his own thoughts.

It had felt normal. Just one other person he'd stumbled across. Had he not startled the man into burning his own hand, Ichigo wouldn't even have realized they were soulmates.

("If soulmates are so damn special, shouldn't we just feel it?" Ichigo mumbled, hands fisting around papers he really shouldn't be screwing with, while he focused on something he couldn't see, something he couldn't quite think about. Something that felt just there, just around the corner, yet so very far away…)

It was ridiculous.

"I always knew that, though," he mumbled. Eyes falling closed to the sight of strange grey eyes once again, to the feel of warm hands under his. "I already decided I don't want it."

He'd decided it when he was thirteen years old, and his mother was smiling at his father, and Ichigo realized that everyone wanted to have a soulmate, but Ichigo just wanted to have someone who'd make him smile.

(He'd never regretted that choice, even when Rukia rejected him, softly, because she was waiting for her soulmate, or when he'd had to reject Inoue, because he knew she still dreamt of being with her soulmate, and he knew he wasn't hers.)

But… But now, he thought of careful vulnerability, and realized that, just as he wouldn't have been averse to trying with Inoue, he wasn't… adverse to… giving it a shot. To this bullshit. To… to knowing this person who shared his scars and so often marked his skin with cuts and burn marks. He certainly didn't feel a pull, but…

But, well. He was also kind of… curious. Maybe.

After all, Ichigo needed to prove that the 'predestined soulmate' thing was a complete bullshit, didn't he?

.

So, let it be clear that just because he decided something, he really, really didn't need shit pushing him into it.

"So, Onii-chan," Yuzu started, sitting down onto his bed uninvited. "That pie you brought us…"

Fucking hell. He sighed, turning around to stare at her and her big puppy eyes staring up at him. "… What about it?" He asked wearily.

Yuzu batted her eyelashes slowly, pouting just slightly — and he hated that Yuzu had learned that, shit, who'd taught her that? "You know… I was just wondering where that's from…"

She can't know! She can't possibly know. How'd she…

"Didn't I tell you? We bought that for Chad's birthday." Ichigo answered, mind whirring and heart racing. "You and Karin weren't able to come, so the guys let me bring you some back. Said it was a treat for your good behavior."

Ichigo could see her lips twitching, and wondered why she was fighting down her smile — and then got her answer not a minute later. "So… we really, really loved it. And the buns. It's from the same place?" Ichigo nodded. She beamed quickly, then schooled her features back into her big puppy eyes and sad pout. "And we're really working hard to get good grades…"

Oh for shit's sake. "So you want more."

It was a statement more than a question, but Yuzu nodded excitedly anyway. "Why, Onii-chan, we'd love that!"

He thought of a sheepish grin, and sharp eyes, and warm hands, and held his breath and hoped she'd give up on her own.

Fate is bullshit, he reminded himself.

But Yuzu was still staring at him with those unblinking eyes, and her lower lip was trembling just slightly, and she hadn't made him a request in so long — and Karin.

And he knew he'd cave in even before he sighed. "Yeah, yeah," he agreed, tiredly, even if he felt like there was something lodged into his throat and he couldn't breathe. "Note down what you'd like, and I'll get it for you."

Yuzu beamed, lovely and cheerful and so darling, and Ichigo felt it was okay to sign his soul off like that, if he could make his sisters happy with such a small thing.

(But was it a small thing? He wondered quietly when she'd left, a promise in her eyes and a skip to her steps. He looked down at his hands, and wondered if it was really such a small thing, after all. He'd just agreed it wasn't unbearable to at least get to know the man, but…)

.

Of course, Yuzu's list was freaking giant, and Karin had added her own two cents at every other corner of the paper, and Ichigo was left flooded at the idea that they were going to eat all of it.

Maybe he should cut off some things on his own…

But, no, this was for the girls. He knew Yuzu took enough care for the both of them; he didn't need to worry so much. And, anyway, it's not like this was going to be an every-day thing.

(Really? The snarky voice in the back of his mind asked, before he could push it away)

When she'd delivered the list to him, Yuzu had said that if he only gave her the address, she'd buy it herself, but Ichigo had wanted to do something good for his sisters, and anyway, he worked just down the block from the Shoten, so, really, it was just expected right. It had absolutely nothing to do with the dread that had built up inside when he considered the possibility of Yuzu knowing, of course.

But now, staring at the list — two cherry pies? Ah, no, two slices of cherry pie —, mouthing along with Yuzu and Karin's handwriting, Ichigo felt a bubbling headache at the thought of standing around ordering all of it.

Shit.

Maybe he should have let her buy it herself, after all.

But — but he'd also agreed, and, anyway, it meant nothing. Just because he was back… just because this was where his soulmate worked (just because these were his soulmate's sweets), it didn't have to mean anything. He was just buying a treat for his sisters. If he met the man again, that was nice; or not, really. Who knows. Ichigo didn't know the guy, he just knew his scars. He could easily be a complete jackass. This was just… just a favor. And an opportunity, if anything.

To fulfill a promise; because Ichigo hated letting those unfilled. Just that.

He took a last glance down at the paper, and a deep breath — before pushing the door open, the bells jingling cheerily at him as he stepped into the warmer air inside. Once again, the whole shop smelled of sweets and treats, and the place is just as homey and nice and cheerful as before, and Ichigo relaxes minimally at the emptiness of the place.

Then he looked up, hearing footsteps, and there he is — the blond, sharp eyed man from last time.

"Hello!" His soulmate greeted cheerfully, a grin on his face that is nothing like the one Ichigo saw when he held his hand between his own and their secret in his mouth. "Welcome to Urahara Shoten, how may I be of help today?"

You could start by leaving, Ichigo thought sullenly. But that was too harsh for a stranger who was just doing his job, really. So, instead, Ichigo nodded, and approached slowly.

"Hello…," it hung in the air for a moment, when he once again realized he did not have his name.

"Urahara Kisuke," the blond offered when Ichigo floundered for a moment more, a small smirk on his lips. (And, shit, but does that mean he's the owner of this bakery?) "And you are Kurosaki Ichigo-san, right? From the commission of last week."

Ichigo nodded silently. He remembered his name? Didn't he have to deal with several customers every day? Did he remember every name? Shit, that'd be impressive…

"It's very unusual to receive customers so close to our closing time." Urahara-san explained, and Ichigo breathed out slowly; ah, that made sense. "Also, you are quite remarkable, are you not?"

Wait. "Hey!" he yelped disgracefully, a hand rising to cover his hair in reflex. He'd thought he'd outgrown it, but, apparently not.

Urahara-san laughed — and Ichigo couldn't decide if the man was a bastard or not, but his laughter was nice. "I apologize, Kurosaki-san. I merely meant you have an impressive coloring. Quite unusual, that is all."

Ichigo glared at him one last time, before sighing. This was not what he'd come here to do.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, raising the list to eye sight again. "Anyway. So… Urahara-san. Could you…"

But the focus of the man was already on the paper in Ichigo's grasp, and he was reaching out a hand before Ichigo could flinch back, and Ichigo held his breath at the contact of fingers against his own skin, and hoped dearly that the man couldn't see the newest cut they'd shared.

"May I?" Urahara-san asked, hands resting against Ichigo's own, and sharp grey eyes staring up at Ichigo's.

Ichigo blinked startled, but allowed the man to grab the list. "Uh. Yeah."

There was a moment of silence as Urahara-san read Yuzu and Karin's request list, and Ichigo tried not to fidget through it; he'd never been uncomfortable with silence before, but suddenly, Ichigo felt like he was suffocating. So many things rose into his throat at the same time, but nothing seemed right.

This man was his soulmate, but he was a complete stranger. This was the man Yuzu always pushed into (the idea Yuzu always talked about), the one who supposedly "completed" Ichigo, if lore was to be believed. This was the man who'd bleed when he bled, the man who'd share his wedding marks, the man who'd wear his scars with as much pride as he always wore. This was the man fate had decided was the best fit for Ichigo.

This was the man Ichigo had already decided wasn't meant to be his.

There were so many things in his mind — so many what-ifs, so much doubt. Ichigo still couldn't believe that one needed their soulmate to thrive… but he'd also had time to look at Yuzu and Karin, laughing together, brushing a hand against each other's scars and simply being there, the lacking factor from each other, and he'd had time to crave it. He'd had time to look at Ishida and Inoue, and see how they just gravitated to each other, and how they stumbled their way into life together, and think that maybe he wanted that.

Ichigo had time to see happy soulmates, and realize that just like one didn't need their soulmate, they also weren't prohibited to have happiness with them, in whatever way possible, and Ichigo realized that… that maybe he was being stubborn.

Or maybe he was honoring the wrong thing of his mother.

But he'd also had time to think; and just like he'd realized that he wasn't opposed to being something with this man… he was opposed to being anything with anyone just because they were soulmates.

So. Ichigo looked at blond hair falling over grey eyes, at the slight shade of growing beard on this man's face, at the crease of a frown in Urahara-san's brow, and thought — this is my soulmate, and he can be mine. Or he can be nothing at all.

And there was only one way to find out.

And it certainly wasn't by telling him what they were.

But, as he tried to start a conversation, Ichigo realized he didn't know what to talk about; this was his soulmate, and this was supposed to be easy, but Ichigo just felt so much pressure. So many what-ifs, so many expectations. He felt…

"Wow, Kurosaki-san, this is quite the list you have here," Urahara-san commented, a slight smile on his face as he looked up again.

And Ichigo latched on to the first thing that came to his mind. "Ah, yeah, sorry if it's any bother. My sisters loved your sweets, and requested I bring them more, and, well, I just really can't refuse them anything, and I'm afraid they realized that."

Why.

He suffocated the desire to sigh, fearing he'd just killed any chance he had to even get to know the man — but instead, Urahara-san's sharp eyes softened significantly, the grin on his lips finally resembling the one Ichigo had seen just once before, even if just slightly.

"Oh? Sisters?" Urahara-san prompted softly, and Ichigo grinned, leaning against the counter as Urahara-san started reaching for pies and cookies and biscuits, Yuzu and Karin's requests being filled as Ichigo told him about his sisters.

Half an hour later, which was at least twenty minutes after Urahara-san had finished arranging Ichigo's order, and maybe ten or fifteen minutes after the shop was supposed to close, Ichigo looked at the clock on the wall, and startled enough to shut up.

"Oh. Sorry, Urahara-san." He apologized, feeling a warmth burning in his cheeks. "I lost the notion of time. I, uh, I'll be going, now. Uh… how much do I owe you…?"

Urahara-san waved it off easily, grinning back at him and telling him the price. Ichigo gave him the money, even as he counted it up in his mind and — "Wasn't it supposed to be more?"

Urahara-san laughed. "Well, think of it as an… end of stock sale, if you must. I always have too much of everything at the end of the day, and you stopping by to buy it off from me was a huge help."

Ichigo hummed, unconvinced.

"I mean it," Urahara-san insisted. "Ah, also…" He reached down into the counter, and pulled out a small bag. "Here. You mentioned you liked the Cinnamon Buns; unfortunately, I have none left, now, but I do have some Orange and Cinnamon Biscuits."

Ichigo spluttered. "I can't possibly…"

Urahara-san put up a hand, cutting him off smoothly. "Why, think of it as a strategy to make a regular out of you, if you will. Isn't it only natural to give free samples to customers when you wish to woo them over?"

Woo… Ichigo grimaced at the wording, but nodded cautiously, accepting the package. "If you need…"

Urahara-san beamed cheerfully. "Yes, I do. Now, you told me your sisters were quite anxious to have some cherry pie today, still, so I guess it would be best if you started going now. I would hate to be the reason they were unable satisfy their cravings."

Ichigo shook his head, blinking in utter befuddlement. This man was… bizarre.

"Well… thank you, Urahara-san," he said, truthfully.

With a last grin and wave, Ichigo found himself leaving the Shoten with the thought that, perhaps, Urahara-san had managed to win over another regular. If only to help him out with his "end of stock goods".

… Halfway to his home, Ichigo also realized he'd talked to the man for half an hour about the twins, and he'd somehow… completely forgotten the man was his soulmate.

Huh.