Author's note: time line wise, this is set early on in the series, right before the Bount begin to show up. I'm only mentioning this because certain things/events from the canon will pop up later on...

Chapter 2: Sapphire Blue and the White

Several months earlier...

Dust motes danced and twirled beneath amber rays of afternoon sunlight lancing through the shutters. Urahara was walking through the main sales floor of the shop, a hot mug of tea in one hand, his fan idly fluttering in the other. There was the usual secretive grin on his face, and his eyes were far away in thought as he crossed over to the hall which led into the shop's tiny kitchen. Suddenly, to his right, a door swung open, and soft music issued forth, along with the high, dulcet tones of excited, youthful voices.

In a clumsy collection of flailing limbs, Ichigo all but fell from the room, pulling down his ringer tee as he careened into the hallway. There was a besotted, idiot's grin on his face, and his eyes were still pinned somewhere inside the room. That is, until he noticed Urahara's presence. Then he straightened himself up and cleared his throat.

"Good afternoon, sensei."

Behind him, the music continued to play, spilling soulful, imploring sounds of love into the hallway:

You're the only one

You're the only one

I'm so wrapped up in a daze

Hoping this is just a phase

But when all is said and done

I know you are still the one

You're the only one

You're the only one

Cupid's bow has stung

Now you're the only one...

Urahara angled the fan over his face, using the rice paper folds as both a mental and physical shield. He had granted Kurosaki use of the room weeks ago and had sometimes observed the two boys coming and going surreptitiously through the back of the shop. And up until now, he had managed to avoid running into them inside its walls. Until today...

"Good afternoon to you, Kurosaki." There was the rapid flutter of hummingbird wings, as Urahara purposefully kept his eyes away from the open door of the room. There was a frown in Urahara's voice as he said: "Going out?"

"I'm just going to pop around the corner to the convenience store for some drinks."

"Drinks?"

Noticing Urahara's tone, Ichigo quickly followed with: "Not alcohol. Not those kind of drinks. Just...normal stuff."

"Oh. Then why don't you come to the kitchen with me? I have a kettle on right now filled with a lovely black tea." The fan gestured toward the square green mug in his hand.

Ichigo glanced uncertainly at the mug. "Oh, I wouldn't want to inconvenience you-"

"-it's not an inconvenience, Kurosaki; it's just tea."

Ichigo's eyes shifted back to the open doorway, to the unseen occupant inside. "Well, if you're sure..." The besotted grin was slowly starting to make a comeback.

"Of course I'm sure. Come along." Urahara waved him forward with a limp flick of his fan. The shopkeeper walked by the open doorway. Without conscious thought (or so he believed), his head swiveled to look inside. Lying on his stomach across the futon, draped in a white sheet like some Renaissance odalisque, was Uryuu Ishida, his elbow bent and his chin propped up on the heel of his hand. Sapphire blue eyes met Urahara's through the open doorway. The boy's pale, pre-Raphaelite skin glowed wanly in the afternoon light, as pure and as white as the sheet that covered him. Urahara tore his eyes from the bed, his heart fluttering along with his fan. It was a bad idea, having these two boys around the shop. A really bad idea. Obviously, he thought to himself, I've been on my own for far too long...

Urahara kept his eyes glued firmly on Ichigo's back as the two of them crossed the hall to the shop's kitchen.

Several years earlier...

"Why were you staring at me like that?"

Urahara jumps at the sound of Ryuken's voice, ambushing him just outside the door of his shop. His clogs stop, pausing on the third step of his back yard landing, before they slowly resume their hollow clip-clop down to the grassy earth below. Leaning against the wall to his right stands Ryuken, in a plain white tee and jeans, an outfit so different from the stiff button down shirts and ties that his older self will wear. He's chain-smoking, as usual. He lifts the cigarette and takes a long drag, the pale eyes behind his glasses narrowing suspiciously at Urahara. Urahara can't even detect the young man's presence there, so adept he has gotten at masking his spiritual pressure.

"Whatever do you mean?" Urahara asks innocently. Even though innocence has no truck with him.

"Earlier, when you passed by our room. When you were talking with Isshin in the hallway?" Ryuken prompts him. With an aggressive flick, the Quincy tosses the cigarette to the ground. The butt still smolders, deep orange like a blood red sun. Questioning eyes round on Urahara.

Urahara watches the still flickering butt with anxiety. Ryuken is being careless, as usual, and the ground outside is so very dry. With a swift stomp of his clogged heel, Urahara snuffs out the cigarette. His gaze is purposefully angled at the ground, not at Ryuken. From beneath the safety of his floppy hat, Urahara murmurs, "I wasn't staring. Not on purpose, anyway."

I've been on my own for far too long, the shopkeeper thinks to himself.

Ryuken shrugs, slouching against the wall like a lazy cat. "Fine. Suit yourself," he mutters quietly, staring off into the distance. Urahara watches him from the shadowed shelter of his hat, watches his cold, empty gaze staring off at nothing. Watching...he is always watching.

Flustered, Urahara turns and walks away, leaving Ryuken standing alone by the shop door.

End Chapter 2.

Note: song lyrics are from the Black Keys' "The Only One." The chapter title is a play on Michael Faber's "Crimson Petal and the White."