"I think we need to give her a little space," Mr Urahara advised as he made way through his little shop, his clogs making soft clanks on the wooden floor. So rhythmic, so controlled, I wondered how he stayed so composed all the time. Never once had I heard his footsteps out of sync. My train of thought led me to imagining him as one of those creatures, uncoordinated and unorganised.
I shook my head free of the strange path it had taken. and stopped walking. "I think she's had enough alone time. She needs friends," Ichigo's voice offered, low and solid, like he was talking about an object he had a cold protective force over. Like a toy that was his, like his powers. I found I didn't like it at all.
"She hasn't, Ichigo. She's just spent a lot of time away from us."
He shrugged. "Same difference." His voice was short and clipped, but his eyelashes hovered over those brown eyes a little too long. They met my eyes, and he sighed. "What is it, Rukia."
"Oh, nothing," I commented offhandedly, crossing my arms calmly over my chest. "I just thought you only wanted the best for your friends, at all times."
"Rukia," Urahara warned, sensing a danger I was about to spark in Ichigo. I kept contact strong with the brown orbs. "What? Its obvious to the point that even he knows it, and yet he wont admit it. Orihime wants Ulquiorra with her, i'm not sure she knows why yet but we do."
"So what? We're keeping her away from the enemy-"
"Not anymore, Ichigo! Right now shes on her own with strangers, and the only person she truly knows isn't here. We need to find him-"
"Oh! Talk of the devil himself!" Urahara chimed happily, and I couldn't deny the dense rietsu. It was stronger than before, and...almost...
...
Somehow, I sensed it. Opening my eyes sleepily, I found that nothing had changed, no new smells or objects coming into vision, no change in the constant, steady breeze. Yet, my skin prickled against the neutral air.
I heard a woosh, and instinctively turned my face against the sharp, instant breeze.
"Miss Inoue."
I peered round beneath the curtain of hair the woosh had blown in, and the tall man with slate grey eyes regarded me from above. His cold stare made my nervous, like I was doing something wrong. "Oh, errr...Captain Kuchiki. M-morning." My shaky smile was hindered by hair breezing into my mouth. That's when I heard low breathing, not in sync with the captain's chest rising and falling in barely noticeable motions. I pushed my head round, feeling mechanic.
I felt my breath leave my lungs as I met the vivid, emerald green irises.