Urahara Kisuke preferred the quiet. Blissful serenity made it easier to think, easier to work, easier to observe, easier to calm down, and was (in his opinion) just all-around better than the constant cacophony that the modern world seemed to provide.

But not today.

Today as he lay on his futon with his blond hair falling over his face, he felt as though the noiselessness was stifling, bearing down upon him until his breath seemed shallow and insubstantial. Though he was loathe to admit it, he absolutely hated this day…the day his life was irrevocably changed, the day he lost everything. Exile. Banishment. Ostracism. No label he could come up with seemed to make it any better, no words powerful enough to describe the absolute terror of being forcefully wrenched away from your birthplace.

He should have been over it by now, and for the most part he was. There was a freedom here in the living world that he hadn't been able to find in Soul Society. But that didn't mean that being unable to return home was any less painful. Most years he allowed the day to go by unnoticed, submerging himself in work so that he wouldn't dwell upon it or give it any sort of hold on his emotions. If you were to ask him about it he would blow the question off, downplaying the event, acting as though he didn't care at all. But…sometimes…like now? Right now he was desperately homesick. He wanted to go home!

Badly.

He had just pulled the covers up over his head, burying his nose in his pillow, when he heard the door to his bedroom slide open. Who the hell was disturbing him? Hadn't he said an hour ago that he was going to bed and that he didn't want to be bothered until tomorrow morning? Was it so much to ask to simply be left alone to indulge in the emotions that he so rarely allowed himself to fully feel? Was that so selfish?

Kisuke could hear socks trailing along the floor tentatively, as though unsure of their welcome, towards him. They paused when they reached the futon, shifting back and forth nervously before the figure knelt down. A solid minute passed by torturously as Urahara lay motionless, refusing to pull the covers from his head to look at his uninvited guest. Let them just stay out there…he didn't care! They could sit there all damn day and stare at his sleeping form and he wouldn't be even slightly concerned. It would serve them right for being so insensitive.

"Kisuke?" came the soft voice, laced with concern and unspoken emotion.

Urahara's breath left him slowly, pulling down the covers so that only his the top of his head and his eyes were showing above the sheets to peer at his visitor. Ichigo. The brown eyes that so often held anger or stubborn resolution were now overshadowed with worry, the redhead's jaw set in a tense line. His hand was partially extended towards the bed, as though he had been in the process of reaching out to touch Kisuke when he was interrupted. Even his hair was a little more messy than normal. The younger man seemed completely distressed.

Their eyes met and Kisuke sighed audibly, blinking bleary eyes before closing them again and snuggling more securely in his sheets. He could hear Ichigo above him give a small grunt of disapproval, the hand extending fully to touch his blonde hair, attempting to give comfort. It made something in Kisuke's chest loosen just a little to feel those fingers moving so easily through his hair, trailing lower onto his cheek, caressing his cheekbone gently. He'd never had anyone really console him about his banishment before. No one. Not in a hundred years.

Not even Yoruichi had been able to coax a genuine response from Urahara in regards to the matter…and she had tried very hard. What was the point really? What could she (or anyone) say to make him feel better about it?

"Do you still miss it?" Ichigo whispered, finally scooting the rest of the way down and grabbing the edge of the blanket to lift it up. Kisuke shifted to the side to allow the redhead to enter his futon, opening his eyes again to let their gazes meet. Ichigo was regarding him with scrutiny, observing his motions and reactions carefully. It wasn't something that the younger man had done too often when Urahara had first met him. Oh, how things had changed.

When Kisuke nodded, almost wincing in shame, Ichigo's arms came around him. The act was so sudden, so unexpected, that it made Urahara start, blinking dumbly as though it were the first time he'd ever been held by another living being. His breaths were coming faster now, not able to stop his hands from coming up to clutch at the younger mans's shirt, moving his head from the pillow to bury it in the crook of Ichigo's neck.

They'd never had this kind of reversal of roles, slipping out of their normal part to wear the mask of the other. Usually it was Kisuke comforting Ichigo, always being the supporting rock that the redhead leaned upon. Now, things had taken an abrupt about-face and Urahara was left wondering when he'd become so juvenile and when Ichigo had become so strong.

"It's okay you know," Ichigo murmured, nuzzling at Urahara's hair with his nose. "It's normal to be sad about it. I wish you'd told me. I would have stayed over last night."

Kisuke didn't respond verbally, instead wrapping his arms securely around the slim body next to him and kissing Ichigo's neck. The world was narrowing now, emotions that he kept firmly in check bubbling to the surface. Each moment was a struggle to keep himself at least partially in control, to not allow his outside demeanor to totally crash and burn. But there was so much comfort there in Ichigo's voice, such tenderness in his actions, that it was enough to warm up the small, icy place in Urahara's chest where he kept all the pain and disappointment of his previous life.

Previous life. The life before Ichigo. Before any of this. Had it been emptier?

"You're home now, right?" Ichigo's voice was barely a wisp as he clutched Kisuke closer to him, his hands running down the blonde's spine. "Right?"

"Yes Ichigo," Urahara finally found his voice, though it was small and almost quivering. His weakness was oozing from him in embarrassing waves…but he didn't care. Not with Ichigo. Not right now. "I am."