[Bleach] Urahara/Yoruichi, no prompt, pr0ntober for ano
Another entry that got out of hand. It's unfinished, but I'll post the beginning for now. ~2900 words, not betaed. UraYoru, no prompt given.
Set pre-series, and many liberties taken with everyone's ages. Urahara and Yoruichi are in the shinigami equivalent of their late teens, Shunsui and Ukitake are a bit older, maybe the equivalent of their early-mid twenties. Byakuya is probably around 8-ish. I'm doing my best to make people recognizable as younger versions of themselves.
The 12th division's 4th seat was not having a good day.
For some unknown reason, his squad had all woken up rather more dim-witted than usual, and managed to bungle every last task assigned to them, leaving him to pick up their slack. It had taken him until early evening to finally drag himself back to his quarters. He was weighing the merits of going back out and eating, but that meant he would have to deal with people, and he was quite sure he'd used up all his patience for the foreseeable future.
"Whoa, somebody had a shitty day."
Yoruichi stood in his doorway, her short hair tousled above a cheerful grin. It wasn't hard to summon a smile for her, in spite of his bad mood. Of course, the revealing outfit she now wore since she had been appointed Keigun's commander helped.
She sat in front of him, sprawling across his floor in a patch of sun. The curve of one hip was exposed by her hakama and she laughed as she recounted the latest captain's meeting.
"Shunsui looked pretty hungover, but he managed to ask me to tell you that you need to settle your wager with him. Oh, and Ukitake says hi."
"Ah, yes." Urahara's mood soured once again. "And how is our virile young captain of the 13th?"
Yoruichi paused, then gave him an annoyed look. "Kisuke, why do you do that?" she asked, sitting up. "I don't get mad about the girl you slept with."
He leaned back against the wall. "I haven't seen her since," he said, tilting his head back as he spoke. "You saw him yesterday and you'll likely see him again tomorrow."
Yoruichi groaned, rocked forward to her feet and began to pace, her slim body slicing through the bars of waning sunlight. "We've been over this," she growled, dragging her hands through her hair. "I didn't want it to be some idiot who didn't know his ass from his elbow."
"Ah," Urahara sighed, "if only we were all blessed with the self-confidence that comes from supreme and utter unconcern."
Yoruichi flew back across the room, thrusting a finger in his face. "You wanted to practice!" she exploded. "'I need data to determine the best methods,'" she mimicked. "'You'll appreciate my experience, Yoruichi-san!' So don't fucking start with me when it was all your idea!"
He shot to his feet, looming over her in a way he knew she hated. "Ukitake Jyuushiro was not my idea," he said, his voice tight. "I assumed you would handle it discreetly, and that would be the end of it. I didn't expect it to be thrown in my face."
Yoruichi clenched her fists, and her eyes blazed as she raised her face to his. "Walking in on us in the bath is not the same as me throwing it in your face! You were supposed to have been gone for another two days!"
He tutted, the noise incongruous with the anger shining from his eyes. "Honestly, Brigade Commander, what kind of covert operative fucks someone on a training ground in broad daylight?"
Yoruichi looked momentarily stricken. "We weren't--" She stopped, her face closing off. "I should have known better to believe you when you said we'd do this with no hard feelings."
Urahara flinched. "Yoru--"
She turned away. "I'll catch you later, Kisuke."
"Yoru, wait--"
Yoruichi was already at the door, and he swore as she flash-stepped away. He'd never once been able to catch her when she put her mind to avoiding him.
He slumped against the wall as her hurt face flashed in front of his eyes once again. "Shit."
***
By the time Yoruichi made one whole loop around Seireitei, she had begun to calm down. By the second loop, she felt more or less composed. Halfway through the third, she sensed a familiar reiatsu near the wall and changed direction, chuckling to herself. She arrived at a copse of trees between the north and east gates, just far enough from either to avoid detection by the gate guardians.
"Hey kiddo," Yoruichi said. "You know you're not supposed to be out here."
Kuchiki Byakuya, far more self-possessed than any child ought to be, didn't even bother to look guilty as she approached. He gave her a haughty look from above his pristine blue robes. "Yoruichi nee-sama has no authority over me."
She grinned and ruffled his hair. "True, but I have pull with the people who do. Come on, I'll take you home."
Yoruichi didn't bother to take his hand, instead letting him fall into step beside her as she started towards the Kuchiki estate. She didn't bother to make conversation either--Byakuya wasn't much for speaking. He was, in fact, a frighteningly well-behaved child, his only fault a tendency to slip away from his nurses and wander off from time to time. It distressed the Kuchiki elders to no end, but he always found his way back home, never straying into areas he knew were unsafe.
They walked beneath a series of lamps on a wide avenue, the flickering light splashing across Yoruichi's face.
"Yoruichi nee-sama has been crying."
She stopped, looking down at Byakuya in surprise. "Yeah...yeah, I have. But I'll be alright, kiddo, don't worry."
"Hn." He frowned. "Shall I have the house guard summoned?"
Yoruichi blinked at his solemn little face. Then she scooped him up, whooping as she swung him around, nuzzling his round cheeks. "Byakuya-bo! My hero!"
His frown deepened, but he didn't struggle in her hold. "Cease that at once, nee-sama. It is unseemly."
Yoruichi laughed more softly, setting him back on his feet. "Yeah, yeah."
He rearranged his rumpled clothes and smoothed his hair back down, so it lay obediently against his shoulders.
Yoruichi repressed the urge to pick him up again, instead settling for another hair ruffle, which prompted a long-suffering sigh. "Let's go. I'm sure the House elders are worried."
The little boy's disdainful sniff showed what he thought of that.
"Yeah, I know." She ran her fingers through his soft hair. "I don't blame you."
She kept her hand on his head the rest of the way back, something he normally wouldn't allow. One of the Kuchiki guards met them just inside the main house, and she relinquished her charge, promising to come back and visit soon. Byakuya stood in the light of the entry hall, small brow furrowed as he watched her walk away.
Yoruichi decided to take the long way back to the barracks. Kisuke would more than likely be holed up in his lab, so there was little chance of running into him.
The long way happened to run past a bar frequented by the captain of the 8th Division, who was currently celebrating the wonders of life...or the wonders of Tuesday. Something like that.
She got more than one curious glance as she made her way through the tables, but she ignored them all, and people soon turned back to their own conversations.
Shunsui was alone at a table near the wall, his captain's robe carelessly tossed on the seat next to him. A wry grin tugged at her lips as she looked down at him. "Yo."
"Yoruichi!" His face lit up and he slung a heavy arm around her waist, dragging her onto his lap. "Huh," he said, blinking. "Usually you've thrown me to the ground by now."
"Yeah, well," she muttered, moving to sit on the bench across from him.
"Come on," he said. "You can tell me about it over a few drinks."
"I can't believe a lush like you was made captain."
"Connoisseur, Yoruichi," he said, holding up one finger. "In the aristocracy, lushes are called connoisseurs."
"Whatever," she grumbled.
"So what's wrong?" He poured her some wine and slid it across the weathered wood of the table.
Yoruichi fiddled with her cup. "You're a nice guy. Why couldn't I like you?"
"The two of us would only bring out the worst in each other." He beamed as Yoruichi snorted in amusement. "And so? What has young Urahara-san done this time?"
"He's an asshole."
"That's not ever going to change, you know that." Shunsui gave her a slow smile. "He may learn to hide it better as he gets older, but that's about it."
Yoruichi looked down, to the side, anywhere but her friend's knowing eyes. "He's jealous," she finally said, her voice quiet.
"Ahh...is it Jyuu again?"
She nodded, fingers tapping absently against her cup.
"Yoruichi...men do silly things when they feel threatened."
"But it's stupid that he even does," she growled, banging her fist on the table.
"Is it? I'm sure Jyuu made sure you enjoyed yourself."
"...yeah, he did," she mumbled.
"And he's handsome, and smart..."
"So is Kisuke."
"And Jyuu is very likable. Yes, so is Kisuke, but people tend to think he's laughing at them all the time..."
"Which he is," she muttered.
"...so they're intimidated and a bit on their guard, and he knows it." Shunsui paused, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Most importantly...while you, my lady, have the luxury of knowing your place in his heart is unassailable, he has no such guarantee of your feelings."
Yoruichi's mouth dropped open. "He knows!"
"Does he?" Shunsui leaned forward slightly, his voice serious. "Would he act like this if he did?"
She looked at him, her golden eyes wide. "Hmph," she grunted, turning away.
Having made his point, Shunsui straightened. "Well, shall we? I'm determined to find a wine you can tolerate."
Yoruichi tried to smile at him, but was sure she failed miserably. "I'll have to take you up on that some other time." She tossed back the sake and grimaced. "Ugh. You can cross this one off the list. Later, Shunsui."
Shunsui sighed, patting her hand as she stood. "Goodbye, Yoruichi."
***
Urahara knew she wasn't coming back. He would have to go to her, even if he wasn't sure he could manage to apologize. She wasn't bothering to mask her reiatsu, but she hadn't stayed in one place for long either, making her difficult to track.
He felt her over by the Kuchiki estate for a little while, but that was hardly the place for their discussion. Besides, the unnatural child who lived there couldn't stand him, and the feeling was more than mutual. Sometime after midnight, he felt her make her way back to the barracks. He told himself she wouldn't be open to seeing him so soon, that she would need time to calm down, but knew it for a lie before he even finished the thought.
Or rather, it wasn't quite a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either. She would need time before she was ready to see him, but the real reason he wouldn't go find her tonight was that he was afraid to face her. He prided himself on understanding her better than anyone, but had used that insight clumsily, like a bludgeon, and hurt her in the process.
Over the next week, the two would avoid all face-to-face interaction, only brushing up against each other indirectly. When Yoruichi returned from a mission, Urahara was just out of sight behind a nearby hill, leaving as soon as he saw she was uninjured. And when he woke up in the 4th Division station after fighting multiple hollows, he felt traces of her reiatsu in his recovery room, even though she herself was nowhere to be seen.
The next evening, he gathered his resolve and made his way to the Keigun barracks. The few people he saw simply nodded in greeting, more than used to seeing their commander's oldest friend visit at all hours. He arrived outside her quarters, and the personal guard on duty gave a slight bow.
"Urahara-san," the man murmured, sliding the door open. "The Commander has been expecting you."
Urahara walked through the empty outer receiving room. The decor was elegant and understated, suited to warrior nobility. Darkness obscured the delicate artwork and the warm luster of the wood carvings, but he had seen them countless times before. They were hardly why he was here, anyway.
Yoruichi sat in the inner room, her body outlined through the shoji by the light of a single lamp. He slid the door open and simply stood for a moment, admiring the lines of her as she leaned back on her hands. She wore a loose kimono with vibrant flowers and birds in green, violet, black and orange splashed against a white background. Her nape and shoulders were exposed and her slender legs were bare, fabric spilling across the floor surrounding her.
Urahara closed the door behind him and knelt at her side. Yoruichi turned her head away with a slow blink, the movement utterly disdainful.
"Ah." Urahara pulled back, settling on his heels. "Is this the end, then, Yoruichi-san?" He was proud of how steady his voice was, as though fire and steel weren't ravaging his insides.
Golden eyes slid over to him; they were molten, even in the faint light of the room. "You messed it up," she said, her voice flat. "You fix it."
He took a deep breath. "I...don't know how."
Surprise flashed across her face; she would realize what it cost him to admit that.
Urahara sighed and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. "You were supposed to find someone anonymous and have a completely forgettable experience."
"Seriously, you're an idiot," Yoruichi said, rolling her eyes. "It can hurt for girls; why would I trust some stranger?"
"You didn't argue when I suggested it."
She snorted. "You mean I didn't try to change your mind. Jackass. I'm not begging anyone to have sex with me."
"The very idea," he murmured, his voice light. "Shihouin Yoruichi-sama is eminently self-sufficient in all ways."
Her eyebrows drew together as she gave him an exasperated look. "Knock it off. You know that's not true."
"I'd like to think that I'm an exception to that...but one can only go on assumption for so long." He reached out, drawing a finger over the smooth curve of her bare knee.
"Idiot," she whispered. "You should know better than anyone." Yoruichi shifted, letting her head sink against his shoulder. He exhaled as something loosened inside his chest, and wound an arm around her waist.
"Have pity on the poor, wretched creature hopelessly in your thrall," Urahara murmured against her hair. "Well, have pity on this one. I'd rather you continued to ignore the rest."
"You're supposed to know, dammit." Her lashes lay against her cheeks as she looked down, avoiding his eyes.
"Another of my many shortcomings, I suppose."
She frowned, her mouth curving in a way he found adorable, although he would never tell her so. They sat in silence, each taking comfort from being together after their time apart.
"I'm meeting with Yamamoto in the morning," she finally said. "I need to get some sleep."
He opened his mouth, then thought better of what he was about to say. "...I'll take my leave then."
Yoruichi placed a hand on his cheek and leaned up to kiss him, her nails lightly scratching along his jaw as she moved her mouth slowly on his. He let the hand at her waist slide down to her hip while the other cupped the back of her head. Breaking the kiss, he buried his face in her hair, running his nose from her temple down to her jawline, then brushing his lips along her cheek back to the corner of her mouth.
"Mm...seriously, you can't stay here," she murmured, her eyes drifting shut.
He pressed a small kiss beneath her jaw, smiling against her throat when he felt her shiver. "We can be quiet," he breathed.
Yoruichi's eyes snapped open and she fisted her hand in his top. "I don't want you to be quiet," she growled. "I want to hear you."
He froze, his fingers digging into her hip as he strained not to press against her. Her breath hit his mouth, and his own grew fast and harsh as they locked eyes.
"I wish," he said, his voice as even as he could make it, "that you would think before you speak. How am I supposed to leave when you say things like that?"
She slowly pulled back, relaxing her hold on his clothing. Urahara let his hands drop from her body and stood up. Yoruichi was a young and untried commander, still building support and earning the respect of the squad leaders and captains. Eccentricity was acceptable, indiscretion was not.
"Wait."
He paused, one hand on the door.
"Wait outside for me," she said, her voice low. "I'll come with you."
Urahara looked over his shoulder in surprise. She was still seated, but the frown that had been present for most of his visit had been replaced by a slow grin that he couldn't help returning.