Minutes after the young Kurosaki had left, Urahara gathered with the other two adults of the Shoten to brainstorm a new game plan.
"I must say…you have perfect timing, Yoruichi-san."
"Save it," Yoruichi crossed her arms and cocked her hip with a huff, "you owe me another antique sake. They all decided to go on vacation this month… to every conceivable corner of the Earth. Separately."
Urahara opened his mouth as if to speak.
"And they left no note mentioning where they were headed."
The blonde shopkeeper was going to joke that surely the woman had spent some extra time relaxing alongside their cohorts, and that's why her timing was "perfect" and not the usual "astonishing". However, his teeth clicked shut after she explained the manhunt she'd taken around the world.
"That's what I thought." Leaning into the lab table behind her (clear of anything volatile, thankfully), a calculating gleam entered the cat woman's eyes. "Now, what have I missed?"
And Urahara laid it bare.
The night Kurosaki Ichigo received his powers, Yoruichi was sent after the Visored. Much like the blind-sided Kuchiki Rukia, none within the Shoten felt the hollow until it was too late. What they had felt, however, was the violent wave of power that crashed over their side of Karakura town. It seemed to thrash and rage against everything it came into contact with like a spiteful, destructive animal freed at last. However, by the time Urahara arrived at the Kurosaki residence there was no trace of that edgy reiatsu. Only Kurosaki settled back in his body, doing his best to take care of his family before eventually succumbing to exhaustion.
That's when the Master of Flash took off, hot on their fellow exiles' trail in hopes of receiving their guidance. Unfortunately, they'd left on a trip around the world—one last hurrah before shit went down. No one thought they'd be needed this soon.
Worse, Urahara and Tessai could do nothing about the issue without having seen the symptoms, and the wait for the next hollow appearance left Urahara's nails bitten down to the quick.
Fortunately for them—and not the poor teens charged to take care of it—it wasn't long before Inoue Orihime's older brother came back with a vengeance.
"It was then," Urahara relayed to the inscrutable countenance of his oldest friend, "I realized just how far off our calculations things had gone."
Wary of missing another notification from his spiritual sensor, the shopkeeper developed a small, portable buzzer that would sound when the machine in his lab detected a hollow.
The device worked just as intended, and allowed the shopkeeper time to settle across the street from the carnage just as Kuchiki and Kurosaki ran around the corner to the apartment complex.
Nothing could have prepared Urahara for the sight that greeted his bloodshot eyes.
It took everything in his power to remain crouched and undetectable as Kurosaki's… unique spiritual situation revealed itself. Urahara, brows creasing, figured the hollow aspect of the teen's soul must sit very clearly on the surface of his spiritual makeup, and that was all. No need to panic.
However, with the universe ever out to surprise him, he was proven wrong on the skin-deep theory (a laughable one, and an obvious indication of his countless sleepless nights) when Inoue Sora bared the gaping hole in the substitute shinigami's chest. A hole that was not supposed to be there unless Kurosaki Ichigo had hollowfied.
Still listening with rapt attention, Yoruichi relaxed her muscles in a way that belied the shadow coming over her features—a force of habit. She knew Kisuke already suspected something about how this came to be, but there was some aspect of the situation that had him hesitating. That meant it was complicated… Emotionally.
For Kisuke, true complications only arose when it came to matters of the heart. So, even in the midst of finishing his recount, the gears behind his steel eyes continued turning—searching through mind and memories for an answer.
To finally bring everyone to the present, Urahara explained how he'd invited the new substitute shinigami to tea through Kuchiki Rukia. And that after school, their signatures stopped at the Kurosaki residence. The shopkeeper was sure his invitee had refused the RSVP, but after a lengthy pause they continued on their way to the Shoten. Urahara figured then that the two had simply dropped off their things and changed, but that theory was dashed when Kuchiki stepped onto the lot with both her uniform on and school bag in hand. Confusing the man further, Kurosaki (also in uniform) trudged stiff behind her, sporting a beanie. As both crossed the threshold, Urahara noticed Kurosaki's startling lack of footwear. And scented blood.
The teen's pants were stained in an odd pattern on the thigh, and moving past the obvious oddities led Urahara to discover his eyes did not naturally respond to the changes in light. Concussion, he'd diagnosed, and told his guest as such.
Curiously, Kurosaki acted like a wounded soldier in enemy territory upon being outed, and made a feeble (then later, not so feeble) attempt to escape. Despite the teen's immediate desire to leave, Urahara could not, in good conscience, let his guest wander around in such a state without attempting to help.
If this also happened to be the perfect opportunity to get a read on some of the other problems he'd noticed the teen was dealing with… then all the more convenient for them both. Right? And get a read, he did.
Reiatsu had ravaged his lab, nearly destroying his machines if not for the barriers he erected over all his equipment "just in case". They held, thankfully, letting him glimpse the statistics and raw data the computer attached to the sensors had interpreted and put together. What he'd seen in that moment was fascinating, for lack of a better term. Urahara couldn't wait for Tessai to explain the full overview, because based on those split-second readings—!
Yoruichi waved a hand in a vigorous "get on with it" motion. Right.
Kurosaki had only just been settled on the table before waking up, which was something they hadn't anticipated, but after that blip in the process (and the quick, suspicion-raising phone call with Isshin) Tessai had worked his magic on the teen's wounds.
This is where the larger man interjected the account with his expertise.
Kurosaki bore many injuries, all in varying degrees of severity and stages of healing. There were scarred lacerations on his knuckles and extremities, and recent signs of blunt force trauma in defensive areas along his arms. Worst of all was the bruising on his sternum, and the open head wound leading to a fracture in the teen's occipital bone, which had bled a miraculously mild amount but still left Tessai wondering how Kurosaki had been vertical by the time they made it to the tea room.
In any case, the kido master finished up to his usual limit with shinigami, where severe wounds had to be left to scar on their own, but startled when Kurosaki continued to absorb the healing reiatsu of Tessai's kaido past his intent. The head wound stitched itself together before his very eyes, and a pulse of diagnostic kido showed no further injury, to his knowledge.
Thankfully, the sensors were still recording and inputting data from the room's occupants as suggested by Urahara, in case their patient possessed some unique aspect that could be revealed during the healing process. This was an incredible bit of foresight, as the sensor recorded Tessai's reiatsu being gobbled up by the insatiable spiritual core of the boy passed out beneath him. Something entirely unheard of, until now. A glance over at the monitor had shown three lines on a graph, which signified the three separate spiritual flavors that made up Kurosaki's whole. They were beginning to fluctuate.
At the start of the healing, the teen's detectable reiatsu percentages showed hollow at the bottom of the chart, with shinigami just above it, and quincy unexpectedly dominating the scene. However, as Tessai stimulated the shinigami reiatsu with his own it rose to the top, bringing the hollow with it. Upon the shift in dynamic, Tessai heard a sound like the faint shattering of glass: The icy shafts that faintly pulsed with quincy reiatsu and had woven themselves into Kurosaki's hollow hole could no longer impose after being dethroned. Astonished at the very visual way Kurosaki's reiryoku could be observed warring with itself, he could only watch as the hole closed itself up as if it were never there. Like the quincy had been the only thing keeping the hollow and shinigami sides from stabilizing themselves.
Urahara seemed as fascinated about the news as he did when Tessai first explained, and Yoruichi blinked slowly, flabbergasted—looking much like Tessai must have when he first witnessed the phenomenon.
"So exciting, isn't it?" The shopkeeper laughed. Didn't even let the implications of it fully sink in. "Let me finish this up so we can discuss a bit more about that data."
Waving an exuberant fan, Urahara launched into one final tirade. "As I mentioned briefly, the phone call I had with Isshin left me with more questions and… no answers, really. So! With Kurosaki's hollow more of a driving force than we theorized, I put together a cute, cuddly, and unassuming little something to hopefully get to the bottom of it. I suspect happenings in his everyday life caused this, given how the encroachment of the soul chain is something that takes many years, and is generally agreed to be impossible while still alive. However, as Isshin ordered us to stay away for the most part—and I didn't install surveillance because I believed he knew what to do—I have very little idea of what that could be. Specifically."
Yoruichi raised a brow at the word he slapped, unsure, to the end of that. "Oh? So you do have some idea." Urahara fixed her with a smug "of course, who do you think I am?" kind of look, but sobered as he thought about it.
"I do. But I would like to give a fellow former-Captain and old friend the benefit of the doubt." He swept his white fan through the air, and a false cheer quickened his voice, "Now, let's take a look at that data! Tessai, if you could brew that new summer tea blend? Oh, and some of those rice crackers you bought last week. We're going to have quite a few guests soon. And none too happy about the sudden end to their vacation, I'm sure."
Bright yellow light swept across the floor, creeping up the side of a bed full of tangled limbs and rumpled sheets. It flowed first across a pale hip kissed with barely-there freckles, and made its way up a white-clothed shoulder. Skipping across an infinitesimal gap, it met skin in a tone well-loved by the sun. Then, the piercing rays shone through thick, curly hair and into the back of tightly closed eyelids.
Fighting to stay asleep and failing, Chad groaned. He tried just keeping his eyes closed, but when that didn't work he pried one open. Predictably, the offending beam of sunlight illuminated the green ring around his pupil like a floodlight. Retina scorched, Chad tensed, squeezed his eye shut, and hid his face in soft tufts of hair.
What…?
Deciding to crack both eyes open this time, his field of view filled with a sea of orange. Oh, it's just Ichigo—
Chad's brain stuttered, wheels free-spinning and then catching again.
He remembered Ichigo called around one-thirty that morning, asking if he could use the futon. Chad agreed without argument but his half-asleep mind whispered traitorous thoughts, and when Ichigo came in a few minutes later he'd—Dios mío… Pulled a move (of the very unromantic variety) on his best friend, at what was neither the time nor place.
It hadn't been the time or place to make any kind of move though, really. Ichigo had been his own special version of distraught, and Chad had—
Orange hair shifted, bringing the larger teen's attention back to the present. A little too much in the present for Chad to handle, considering the ease with which he'd earlier buried his face in Ichigo's hair came because they were wrapped around each other. Tightly. Arms thrown around each other, legs interlocked, the whole shebang.
Heart beating a rapid staccato in his chest, the larger teen did what he could to extricate himself without waking Ichigo up. It wasn't easy, but he seemed to be sleeping deeper than usual—an observation that made Chad want to wake the other up even less. Going slow, it only took a tense couple of minutes until the arm under the other's head was the last bit left, and he leaned up on the same forearm to reduce the awkward extraction angle. Putting his other arm down on the opposite side of Ichigo's head let him shift his weight off the body part he was trying to move, allowing him to pull his arm out with ease. Chad exhaled in relief.
A quick look down to check if the operation was successful—A.K.A Ichigo remained asleep despite the light jostling—had him face to face with a sight that melted his heart on the spot. Brows smoothed out, lips parted, freckled cheek red from where it had been pressed against Chad's arm, fluttering lashes caught in the light—
"Mn," Came the sleepy grunt and return of an ever-present scowl, paired with a full nose scrunch (though that was unbearably cute, too). Then came the realization that Ichigo was waking up, and, "Chad…?" Chad was staring into squinted amber eyes, lit up gold in the sunbeam he'd accidentally rolled the teen's head into. He was still leaning over Ichigo.
Like a deer in the headlights, "good morning" was all Chad could think to say in response. Ichigo tilted his head to the side to escape the sunbeam, and smiled in a way that had its recipient feeling like the actual sun had made its way inside his room, not just one of its meager rays. "Mornin', big guy," the teen mumbled, flashing teeth in a sleepy grin. "Whassup?"
"I—" Chad's muscles struggled to unlock for an embarrassing moment too long, bringing a dark flush up to his ears. "Was going to ask what you wanted for breakfast," He blurted, managing to force himself upright at last. Which… led to even more problems.
At some point in the night Ichigo must have gotten rid of his belt to become more comfortable, and thus made it possible for his school shirt to untuck and expose a portion of hip right above the hem of his pants. Now that he'd seen it, Chad couldn't look away.
Oblivious to the crisis going on in his honor, Ichigo fought his way to a seated position. He rubbed a knuckle into the inner corner of his eye and yawned into a fist, "Breakfast? Sure, uh… I dunno. I'm good with whatever you pick."
Chad forced himself to nod, rising off the bed. He headed out the door toward the kitchen, deciding to let Ichigo wake up in his own time (and give himself some breathing room). Eggs on toast was an easy meal to both make and digest, so he'd start there.
Ichigo entered the kitchen just as Chad plated their food. "Smells good," He praised, taking a seat at one of the two chairs pulled up to the small kitchen table. "I like the pants, are they new?" They were a pair of super-soft, navy blue sleep pants covered in hello kitty motifs.
Chad turned with plates in hand, and put them down on the table as he sat in the remaining chair. "Mm," came the single grunt of confirmation, "gift from a bandmate." The two said a quick prayer, then dug in. Simple, but delicious. Ichigo thanked Chad for putting it together.
"Oh, and thanks for letting me crash at your place… even if you decided to suplex me when I was trying not to wake you up. You dick," Ichigo tried to look annoyed, but he couldn't keep the mirth off his face when he recalled the whole thing again. Remembering everything that happened before that, however…
Chad had the gall to look sheepish, head hung and rubbing the back of his neck, "I think I was still half-asleep," but he didn't receive the expected response. Or any response at all, really. Curious, he straightened. Ichigo was deep in thought, brows furrowed and eyes dark. Chad had a good idea why: It's the whole reason he felt bad about throwing his friend around while groggy—which, normally, wouldn't be much of an issue between them. "Ichigo…" He called, entreating. Clearly, they needed to talk about what happened if it was weighing on the other this heavily.
Ichigo seemed to return to himself, but there was a long moment where all he did was search hazel eyes for… something. Thankfully, he found what he was looking for. He always did, when it came to Chad. "Can we take a walk? I think that'll make this easier." Chad breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"Of course, Ichigo." Cleanup took no time at all, and once both had freshened up in their own ways (Chad donning appropriate streetwear, and Ichigo straightening out his uniform), they were ready to head out.
…Almost.
Chad couldn't help but stop short in the entryway. There was a distinct spot missing on the shoe rack where Ichigo's pair should be. The taller teen stared at the top of his friend's head with concern. It was Ichigo's turn to look sheepish.
"I… I guess I'll need to start explaining on the way to my house."
Eyes partly obscured by curly hair bore into Ichigo's skull a moment longer in a bid to figure out what was going on in there, but their owner soon gave up with a sigh. Walking over to the hall closet, Chad retrieved an old pair of slides he kept from last year that didn't fit anymore. Ichigo sent his friend a grateful look as he slid them on. They were still a bit too big, but the orange-haired teen would just have to deal with it. In fact, Chad found the way the other shuffled his feet in order to keep them on hilarious. Serves him right for… not bringing shoes with him…? Chad didn't mention that out loud, though.
"Alright, where should I start? I guess right after class, when we split up—" Ichigo stumbled over an uneven crack in the sidewalk, cursing before he regained his footing. A suspicious noise came from behind him, and the teen whipped his head around, affronted. Chad was staring straight ahead, lips pursed. Stoic. "Bastard," Ichigo muttered to himself, continuing on just a bit more mindful of the terrain than before.
"Anyway… yesterday, Rukia's 'local shinigami contact' or something like that, invited me and her to tea. I was super tired so I told her this guy could shove it, because I wanted to take a nap." Chad had no trouble following so far, but Ichigo paused and glanced at him as if looking for the right words. The teen averted his eyes as he continued, "I apparently really needed that nap, because I managed to slip and fall on the stairs. Yuzu probably polished them earlier, too," Ichigo tacked on almost as a joke, glossing over the accident. Chad gave him another searching look, saying nothing. It wasn't like Ichigo to be clumsy, but it did happen on occasion. Like when wearing shoes that didn't fit, he surmised. These things had happened before over the years they'd known each other—bruises and sprains appearing at random times they'd been apart—so it was just another incident for the taller teen to file away. "It felt like the universe was trying to tell me this nap wasn't going to happen, so I decided to meet this guy, after all."
"…That's when I forgot to put my shoes back on," He mumbled, staring off into some middle distance. As if he was just realizing it, himself. "He lives on the same side of town, so it only took a few minutes. Owns a candy shop called…" Ichigo stopped in his tracks, and Chad halted a half-step after him, "whatever his name was, I think." Forgetting a name he's been told once was one thing, but he was pretty sure the shopkeeper's name had been in big letters out front. Usually, Ichigo had an amazing memory when it came to written text. Obviously, he hadn't been in his right mind. They continued walking. "Doesn't matter," The teen tossed over his shoulder, "but yeah, I was hurt after the fall and this guy became super pushy when he noticed. He actually wouldn't let me leave."
Chad knew, logically, that Ichigo was right in front of him—the picture of perfect health. But hearing that this random, shady-sounding older man had kept his friend from leaving this shop? That old, vicious part of him he kept locked away writhed in outrage. Three long strides placed Chad right in front of Ichigo, forcing the other to screech to a halt. Chocolate eyes widened with surprise, and he waved his hands back and forth in front of him as if to ward off the protective ire, "Chad! I appreciate it, man, but I'm alright. Better than alright, actually. This guy healed me somehow and there aren't even any bruises left!" When the larger teen still hadn't moved, Ichigo lifted his head to look the other in the eye. He was treated to a look that sent a thrill down his spine.
Chad knew something wasn't adding up. Several things were being glossed over, that much was obvious. Thankfully, he knew a way to get some more information: First, relax the current expression on his face, and let the worry and disappointment he was feeling at being left out show. Second, say nothing. Finally, let Ichigo back himself into a corner of guilt so his pure heart spilled the beans. Worked every time (with varying degrees of success—Ichigo could still remain incredibly tight-lipped about certain subjects, and in such cases Chad didn't have it in him to pry).
Ichigo tensed—be strong, self—and gave the other a withering glare, "Don't think I don't know you do that on purpose." Then he sighed, resigned, "I've told you the basics because I don't know how to explain it further, myself, and I don't want to confuse you. This hat 'n clogs guy offered to give me a few 'lectures' on this shinigami stuff in the future, and I think I'm going to take him up on that. Maybe if I learn a bit more I'll be able to tell you what's up."
Chad's eyes narrowed under a furrowed brow. Sensing he was still discontent, Ichigo did his best to eradicate the last of his friend's worries with one final statement: "I don't know him, and he's shady as hell, but I think what he knows could help us a lot, Chad. You know I'd tell you if I needed help, man," The teen gave Chad a smile like a grimace, and swerved around his friend's large frame, eyes downcast.
Chad watched him go for a moment, letting the other work through his thoughts. Something deep in his chest squeezed in sympathy, knowing that both he and Ichigo struggled with telling others when they were having trouble. That's why they worked so well together. Neither had to say anything, all they had to do was be there. Sometimes they could deal with things on their own, sometimes they couldn't, and that's what the other was ready for.
The only problem was when they struggled with themselves. Even after all this time, there were things that Chad hadn't shared with Ichigo, and vice-versa.
Doubts still surfaced about whether Ichigo would accept that deep down, Chad still held onto the version of himself he swore he'd put away in Mexico. Ichigo worried that if Chad learned more about the spiritual world and how his friend tied into it, he'd eventually realize what Ichigo was starting to, himself.
That he was a monster.
That even among crazy spiritual warriors whose purpose was to hunt down degraded human souls, he was a whole other can of worms. It was everything he'd never wanted to believe. But he should've known. He wanted to go back to thinking Isshin was batshit, but with everything that had happened recently, maybe his dad had seen that abnormality in him all this time. Known since the first time he'd pointed out someone who wasn't really there. Known since he tore their whole family apart.
Maybe this was why he was treated so differently from his sisters. Maybe he really did deserve—
"Ichigo." Said teen startled, coming back to himself at the front gate of the clinic. Chad stood beside him, a comforting but unobtrusive distance away. "Let's grab your sneakers and head to the park," He offered.
Ichigo blinked once, twice, to clear his mind. "Yeah, alright," He agreed. Gate open and then closed behind them, Ichigo led Chad towards the side of the house below his bedroom window. They stood just out from under the first floor awning. "Give me a hand?" He asked, mischief curling the line of his mouth. Chad could almost feel relieved about it.
Large, tan hands came together, interlocking in front of a bent knee. "Mm," He assented. Dark chocolate irises warmed with swirling ambered hues, and Ichigo planted a sandaled foot onto the stirrup Chad's hands created. Then, both hands firmly grasping his friend's shoulders, Ichigo nodded. Nodding back in a final affirmation, Chad stood and threw up his arms in the same exhaled breath. Ichigo was catapulted onto the roof with ease, and proceeded to carefully slide open his bedroom window (he left it unlocked for this exact purpose). They flashed each other a goofy thumbs-up, then Ichigo ducked into his room.
It barely took him a minute to grab the spare sneakers he kept in his gym bag, and with those on he was climbing over the sill onto the roof once more.
"I'll give those slides back another time if that's alright?" Chad nodded. "Cool, didn't want them to get misplaced while we move around town. Put 'em in my gym bag for now." With that, Ichigo crouched at the edge of the roof, then turned his back toward the drop and hung onto the eaves as he pushed off, controlling his descent. Once he landed, he faced Chad once more only to find the other pretending to hold up a score sign.
Ichigo couldn't help the amused huff that escaped him. "Yeah? There's more where that came from. C'mon, I'll show you."
A pair of plastic beads watched them go, peering out from behind an errand shrub. Gross, the stuffed lion thought to itself. Like hell I'm third-wheeling that. Craning its neck, the lion eyed the window it now knew to be unbarred. The only problem was how it would get up there.
Gaze following along the eaves the orange-haired kid had hung from, the lion realized there was a corrugated metal contraption running down the side of the house only a few feet down along the awning, and which it could likely use to scale the building. Bingo.
Now, all it had to do was find a comfortable spot inside to wait for the kid's return…
…There better be some sort of compensation for all this. Sequestered away behind some shoeboxes and bins beneath a twin bed, the lion fantasized of the great honors it would be bestowed after completing the mission Urahara had emphasized was really important. Perhaps it could ask to spend a bit of time for itself in a real body…
"Yuzu was interested in gymnastics for a hot minute, so that's where all this came from, I guess," Ichigo grinned. He'd gone over some stretches he remembered from his and his sister's self-taught lessons, and Chad, the poor guy, was obviously not used to warming up this way in particular. Ichigo had put just the teensiest amount of pressure on the giant's back to help him reach his feet, and he'd let out a sad, pained noise that had Ichigo letting up immediately, lips pursed and spilling platitudes to hold his laughter.
"Hey, don't worry about it! At no point in your life have you had to stretch like this before, man. Never expected you to be a contortionist or anything. Just thought it would be fun."
They'd made it to the park, of course. However, neither had anything particular in mind for when they arrived (except Ichigo's promise at the house earlier that "there's more where that came from"), and upon spotting a sunlit patch of grass near the treeline, Ichigo felt nostalgic for a simpler time—when Yuzu, inspired by her sibling's athleticism, wanted to try a sport.
They didn't have the money for lessons, but Ichigo did everything he could for his little sisters, and while Karin practiced kicking goals toward the front yard, Ichigo spotted Yuzu along the side yard. The teen was no coach, however, and he also didn't have the proper tools to keep his little sister safe if they were to attempt anything too involved. Eventually, they hit a wall and Yuzu no longer wanted to continue, but Ichigo held onto those memories with fondness. Thus, he'd suggested it to Chad, on a whim.
Chad, looking now like he was regretting agreeing to the idea, but who would've asked to stop if it was truly an issue.
"Mm," He assented, still bent with arms hanging towards the ground, folded like a broken lawn chair. Ichigo grinned down at him. Expecting Chad to right himself quickly, though, had the grin sliding off Ichigo's face when the other stayed where he was for an uncomfortable amount of time.
"Chad?"
"..."
"Are you stuck?"
"...Mm."
That time, Ichigo couldn't stop himself from laughing. As he—gently—levered Chad upright, watching the blood that had run to his face settle back into circulation, the teen couldn't help but thank whatever power brought such an incredible person into his life. Who knew what things would be like now, without having the other to watch his back? Ichigo hoped he provided even an iota of the same amount of relief, in turn.
Ichigo snapped back to reality just as a firm hand gripped his forearm, chocolate eyes widening.
"Wha—?"
"Let's try my warmup, now."
"Chad, you do weightlifting, what the hell does that—oi!" Ichigo didn't have to wonder for long what that meant, as Chad pulled Ichigo toward him via the arm in his grasp, tucked his shoulder into the teen's hip, and then hoisted Ichigo into place across the top of his neck like a prized kill. Both of the teen's wrists were caught in one hand.
While outraged on his way up, the second Ichigo flopped down all the wind left his sails in one fell swoop. Partly because most of the air was knocked out of him, but also partly because he knew there was little he could do to get himself out of this position if Chad didn't want him to.
"Chad…" Ichigo groaned, head hung in shame. "This is so embarrassing. Can you please put me down?"
"No."
"What?" Ichigo squawked, digging his free leg's knee into his friend's back in protest. "Why? I asked nicely and everything!" Chad's laughter rumbled through his back to Ichigo's chest. The teen tucked his face into his shoulder to cover the involuntary flush that elicited.
"Payback."
Orange hair whipped back up, a loud denial on the tip of Ichigo's tongue. "Hah?" He scoffed, "If anything, we were even after what you did to me last night!" Both teens froze. Ichigo almost felt lightheaded with how much blood suddenly rushed to his face. Bad way to phrase that.
There was a mutual, necessary moment of silence as both contemplated the very risque implications of that statement. Nobody moved. A beat passed, and Chad then slowly released the restraining grip he had on both of Ichigo's wrists and leg, lowering his friend back onto the grass.
Ichigo turned his head to the side and started self-consciously patting himself down the moment his feet touched the ground. "Thank you," he mumbled.
Desperate for a way to move on from every single bit of what just happened, the teen suggested they take a walk through town before they had to go their separate ways for the day. Chad agreed, almost subdued. As they made their way toward the street, not quite making eye contact, both couldn't help but become lost in their own private realm of "what-if?" and "maybe…"
"Alright, the hell is yer problem?"
Urahara fanned himself from across the table. A very full one, given it was seated to capacity with six adults including himself. He was flanked by Yoruichi and Tessai. Shinji sat opposite of him, Kensei and Rose on either side. The five remaining visored lounged in various positions around the cramped room, their relaxed demeanor a poor front for the dour aura that emanated from each. Nobody liked having their vacation interrupted.
Even Mashiro stood leaned forward, hands clasped behind her back, pouting.
"Last I knew, we still had plenty of time before miracle boy needed our help. Now, the second we leave, it's an emergency and we're needed back right away?" Perfectly square, white teeth were bared in a sneer. "Make it make sense, Kisuke."
"I'm aware the timing is not ideal, and I do apologize, Hirako-san!" There was a faint thwip sound as Urahara's fan snapped closed to tap against his chin, "However, if I may defend my humble station—the circumstance which presently reveals itself has gone past even my wildest calculations." That, at least, seemed to gain their collective attention.
Lisa refused to take her eyes off the manga in front of her though.
"Oh?" Shinji placed his elbows on the table and propped his chin up with a fist. "Do tell."