Last chapter! Sorry for the late update. I had it typed, but I hadn't been able to post it up until now. Please read and review!
He could see everything. The sadness, the anger, the youth, the overall tiredness of Kisuke Urahara. Without any shields of cloth, he had no way to protect himself, but the other was too angry to care.
"I would appreciate it if I could go home now."
"I would appreciate it if I knew that you weren't going home to crawl inside of a bottle."
Tessi slipped past Kisuke and out the open door, giving the two there entitled privacy. Uryu glared at the shop-keeper. Usually, the hard sapphire gaze would make Urahara shy away, but this time he didn't flinch. He knew he had to face this head-on.
"Belive it or not, Ishida-kun, I can be as desperate as you are now. To escape from this world: to make everything better. That also happened to Ryuken. But, instead of alcohol, his weapon of choice is cigarettes."
And then he was doing it again. He was directing the attention away from himself and to someone else. Old habits die-hard. Uryu's eyes seemed to shoot a million arrows through his soul.
"I'm nothing like Ryuken, Urahara. Do you think you're a guineas for figuring out part of my past and present? Well, you aren't. There are plenty of things you don't know about me."
Urahara let his gaze shy to the floor at the teen's statement.
"Honestly, Ishida-kun, I'm not good at this whole 'being open' thing. I'm trying to tell you, but I have myself trained to keep my mouth shut. I don't think you're like Ryuken at all. On the contrary, actually. You're capable of being embarrassed, kind, prideful, respectful, demanding, wanting, protective, lustful, but over all... you're beautiful in the way of fire meeting ice."
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
He always took things the wrong way. A declaration of love twisting into a laugh in his face. 'Beautiful' being a curse of eternal damnation.
"It means that you're different. It means that even though my age and experience, I have no idea of how I'm supposed to talk to you. I just called you beautiful, but you're trying to figure out if the word has a double meaning."
Uryu glared at the other, hatred playing in his eyes.
"I do not appreciate how you are treating me. I am not some little boy who will follow a stranger off a bridge, Urahara. This is my life, now let me do what I want with it."
Uryu stepped past Urahara and had already put two large strides through the doorway, before the latter caught his shoulder and spun him around to face himself. Pushing his lips to Uryu's, the boy became silenced out of shock. He stood there as the shopkeeper showed all his passion through the closed mouth kiss. Pulling away, the boy was too surprised to speak. Urahara could finally remember the words.
"I know that you are a teenager and I am well past that. I know that you are a Quincy and I am a Soul Reaper. I also know that there was a thousand ways I could have addressed this situation," Yoroichi giving me the idea I should have went with. "But... I just guess that this is more of my style. When you are a Soul Reaper and live as long as they do, it is hard to find someone who you could be with for the rest of your life. I found one when I was still low-rank, she is now my best friend. I have found my second one not to long ago. I love you and I wish I could spend the rest of eternity with you, but that isn't right. I care about what you do and if that will shorten your lifespan. The only death fitting for someone of your stature, is death on the battlefield, when you're old bones are giving out. I know it's hard, but please go home and stop what you're doing."
He looked Urahara in the eyes and realized how venerable he was.
"I will."
Turning away from the shopkeeper, Uryu strode down the hall and out the door. He made it to his apartment and greeted the neighbor. He told her that he was fine and that he had went to the shoten. Finally back inside his own apartment, he cleaned the evidence up and threw it all away.
Years past and he didn't bother to pick up men at bars and girls at parties. He avoided the offered drinks only occasionally sleeping with a boyfriend or girlfriend. The shopkeeper and he kept in contact as the latter grew older. A fashion designer, owner of the biggest brand on the market today. A shopkeeper, shoten remained unshielded, yet unknown. But they where happy with their small conversations here and there as friends, not lovers. They were happy because all of this came natural to them.