[It had been a few days since Tim had had any interaction with his coworkers beyond a few shared glances when he arrived in the morning, which made it so he was minding his own business and doing some extra research when he felt his reality shatter. Literally. It started with a feeling of losing his balance and falling in place, before it turned into feeling like a massive vacuum was pulling at him from the inside and sucking him through the fabric of the world. The feeling got more and more intense it culminated in his falling through what felt like the walls themselves into a slim hallway with a singular yellow door at the end of it.]
“Eurgh- what the..” [Tim mumbled as he doubled over and tried to stop himself from throwing up from the shock of whatever the hell he had just experienced. Based on how Erik had described it, he assumed that he had just fallen into another dimension. Despite his better judgement, and since there was nothing else to do in this hallway, he got up and leaned against the wall to not fall back over, calling out towards the door.]
“Hello? Michael? Or uh, Helen, was it?”
With no response from any spindly figure, the yellow door creaked open. The sound dragged out and seemed to echo far too much for how narrow the hallway was.
The doorway beckoned by making the hallway around it bend in on itself, painting the door as the only safe haven.
The keys turned in the door, and Alealani stepped into what she assumed was her apartment, only for her to find Tim sitting on the couch. At least, she thought that was Tim- it was hard to tell since he looked so... different. Different hair, different clothes, different scars.
"T-Tim??? What are you doing in my flat??" She stared bug-eyed at him, blinking in shock.
[Tim stared at her in shock for a few seconds before he bolted up, cursing under his breath as the movement pulled at his scars. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes until the pain died down enough for him to try and walk.]
“Alealani? Your.. no- no I live here. Erik let me room with him while I- wait- what do you mean your flat??” [He looked her up and down and took a few steps towards her, using the wall as support. About half of his body was bandaged under his clothes, but his face, neck and his scarred arm remained exposed. From the bandages shed onto the table, it seemed like he was midway through changing them before she walked in. His brows furrowed.]
So, I read through the 3 chapters of DE/Lilacs alternate universe hopping crossover and now I kind of want to see that first meeting between Kaito and Erich mentioned in ch 3.
I might just write it! I do have vague ideas of how it went, so maybe when I get back into writing and have caught myself up I’ll add that piece into the arc XD It’d be pretty fun, I think.
For those vague ideas:
Erich spots Kaito wandering around Karakura doing window-shopping, ALMOST mistakes Kaito for Kisuke, except his reiatsu is different enough to make him go ?????
Kaito’s reiatsu feels FAMILIAR, even excluding the familiarity to Kisuke, but he can’t place it.
Erich goes to speak with the stranger, surprises Kaito, learns the man is apparently related to Kisuke AND from another universe.
(?????????)
(Okay, not entirely the strangest thing that he’s come across, but definitely UP THERE)
(How is this his life?)
Beyond that, not entirely certain, but that’s the start of the whole meeting XD
[A day or two after cuddling with Martin, Tim was severely dopamine dropping and didn’t have the courage to ask for another round of affection. On top of that, he also was getting more antsy the longer Erik stayed away, making him crave the contact of somebody safe. Hence, his sudden desire to go visit somebody. Unfortunately for him, just wanting to go to another dimension didn’t yield any results. Fortunately, however, he happened to know a certain yellow door that was impatiently waiting for his next visit.]
[Thats how Tim ended up in the tunnels, in front of Helen’s yellow door, frowning at it like it had offended him as he wondered how to get it to be the right yellow door. He slowly started running the fingertips of his right hand along the frame of the door, then, since he couldn’t reach too high with it, moved towards the door itself. He then gently groped the doorknob. Somehow, the entire movement came off as rather flirtatious.]
An echoing knock sounded from the other end of the door. Once Tim stepped away, the door opened, and a familiar incomprehensible figure leaned against the frame seductively.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | ????
((I had... so much problem with this bit, and I really don’t like it still, but... whatever, time to post it. I hope y’all can enjoy it?))
Ichigo chewed on his lip and tried to gather his nerve to allow the change to take him all over again. He didn’t /want/ to try, didn’t want to suffer through the disorientation all over again, but… but maybe this time it wouldn’t be like that. Rerugen’s change hadn’t seemed to affect him terribly, and now Ichigo thought he knew /why/—
(He still didn’t want to.)
Rerugen waited patiently for him to decide, leaving the decision in Ichigo’s hands yet again.
It was the lack of expectation that helped him gather his confidence, along with the hope of never having to face the same sort of disorientation again.
Ichigo closed his eyes and concentrated, turning his attention inward. Rerugen was right, it /was/ easy to figure out how to trigger the change. The urge was there lurking just within reach. He reached—
Power /rushed/ through his body—
(He should not fight. He should. Not. Fight.)
(Let the power do what it /wanted/—)
He knew what to look for. Knew how Rerugen’s power had felt—
His senses faded and swirled together in a blur, a cacophony of sensation that /snapped/ into abrupt focus a heartbeat later. Ichigo shook his head and stumbled into Uryuu’s legs.
“Alright?” Uryuu asked softly, braced to take Ichigo’s weight. He reached down and sank his hand into Ichigo’s ruff, fingers scratching the back of his head. “That seemed smoother.”
Ichigo nodded and leaned further into Uryuu, relaxing into the touch and taking the time to gather himself. It was still strange to observe the world from such a different height but at least this time he didn’t feel like the world was writhing beneath his paws.
Rerugen was watching him, head cocked to one side and ears standing at attention, mouth slightly open and his tail wagging. He seemed… pleased, Ichigo supposed, and content to sit and wait.
“Want me to call you back?” Uryuu asked after giving Ichigo time to orient.
Ichigo considered the offer then /whuffed/ in agreement. It had been easier, but Rerugen was right; more practice would only make it easier still. Now that he had the feel of it he was certain he could master what Rerugen had shown him and eliminate the last of his disorientation.
Uryuu reluctantly untangled his hand from Ichigo’s ruff and murmured, “Kurosaki Ichigo.”
Fade. Blur. Cacophony and /snap/—
Ichigo shuddered and took an unsteady breath, pressing his suddenly-human shoulder into Uryuu’s waist and bowing his head. Uryuu’s hand settled back on his head, a grounding touch that helped settle his mind back into his body. “That was… easier,” he admitted with a glance up at Rerugen who had turned his head to the side, giving him the illusion of privacy. “I… think I have it.”
Before Uryuu could respond, Ichigo mentally reached /down-and-in/—
Fade. Blur. /Snap/—
He /whuffed/ in excitement and stood to give himself a good shake, body for once feeling /natural/ moments after his change. Uryuu’s fingers tightened in his ruff as soon as he stilled and he turned to stare up at his pack-brother in question, head cocked and ears pricked forward.
“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Uryuu told him with the faintest of smiles. His tone was both relieved and pleased, making Ichigo stand straighter, pleased to have pleased Uryuu. “You always were adept at learning when you saw the way.”
Ichigo took a couple of steps away from Uryuu’s support, pleased when he neither stumbled nor swayed. His wolf-shape was almost /comfortable/ without the lingering disorientation and nausea he’d grown resigned to. Everything was still a bit too sharp, a bit too /loud/, but… spending time in this form would fix that. He’d not given himself the chance to really practice as a wolf, especially when so many moons interfered with school or sleep, but now…
Maybe he could learn now.
Rerugen approached slowly, ears upright and tail wagging. He was… happy?
Ichigo tilted his head and stared at the wolf-shaped man, trying to understand Rerugen’s intent. Ichigo was almost certain Rerugen was happy — dogs wagged their tails when pleased, didn’t they? And the upright ears were… close to the way Yoruichi’s ears would perk up when she was happy, so… maybe that was similar.
He’d gotten used to reading /Yoruichi’s/ body language as a cat, but he could already tell that Rerugen didn’t use the same set. Did that mean that /Ichigo’s/ body language was confusing the man as well? And without being able to speak…
Ichigo shook himself again, trying to discard the dizzying questions. They’d manage.
Rerugen /whuffed/ in something like amusement and closed the gap between them, still moving cautiously. His scent was… /warm/ was the best word Ichigo could find for it, like Uryuu’s had been from the very start and the rest of his pack had become in short order.
Rerugen smelled like a /friend/.
(Why already? He knew why Uryuu had clung so close so quick, but Rerugen—)
(Ah.)
Ichigo relaxed, content with his read on Rerugen at last. They weren’t going to be betrayed, or ridiculed, or anything of the sort; Rerugen was desperate for even the illusion of a larger pack, and underneath it all he was as genuine in his interest in teaching as he’d sounded.
He swayed in place when Rerugen nudged his flank and gave an exasperated /whoof/ when he shot Ichigo a — playful? Probably playful — look.
Rerugen did it again but harder, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Making friends?” Uryuu asked in amusement.
Ichigo growled playfully at Uryuu then snapped at Rerugen in exasperation when the man did it again. Except that only seemed to encourage him because he darted back a few paces, stretched out his forelegs in something akin to a bow, then barreled right back in.
He yelped and twisted away from the unexpected charge, barely avoiding being knocked flying as he ducked behind Uryuu’s legs and shot Rerugen a sour look.
Uryuu laughed and dug his fingers into Ichigo’s ruff once again. “I think he wants to play,” Uryuu suggested with a hint of disbelief, then laughed again as Rerugen’s ears perked forward and he bobbed his head in imitation of a human nod.
/Play?/ Ichigo wanted to protest. He wasn’t— they didn’t— there was no time for /playing/. He needed to learn—
Rerugen took advantage of his hesitation. Darted around Uryuu’s legs. Sent Ichigo sprawling with a shoulder-check. Leaned in and /snapped/ his jaws inches from Ichigo’s throat—
His confusion cleared. He twisted. Scrambled up. Knocked Rerugen aside and /over/—
Rerugen eeled away like he was made of shadows instead of flesh. Snapped his jaws in Ichigo’s face and turned to /run/.
Recovering his balance took Ichigo longer than he liked, limbs tangling up and brain refusing to cooperate. But the instant he had sorted himself out he bolted after the other wolf.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | ????
((Whoo, getting a bit more of this side au done today. Fun times!))
Uryuu didn’t know what to expect when he followed Rerugen and Ren out to the little green area just behind their home. It was shared by several other buildings, and was clearly some sort of community area; there were several wash-tubs set upside-down to drain, and a couple clotheslines that had clothing pinned to them. A few toys were scattered around, like children spent time playing there, and there were even a few toys that looked like /dog toys/.
(Did… did Rerugen actually /play/ in his wolf form?)
He eyed the man before dismissing the notion. Rerugen seemed far too rigid to unbend like that; he was an adult Quincy after all, and likely had far more important things to do than play.
“First question,” Rerugen began once they had reached the center of the small green. “Kurosaki-san, are you aware of how to retake your wolf form after you’ve been called out of it?”
“I… we all suspected it was possible,” Ichigo admitted reluctantly, “but I never tried it.”
“It is. The trick is to reach inward towards the power that controls the change and release it. So long as the moon is in the sky, we can /always/ become a wolf.” Rerugen looked between all of them, a small frown on his face, and continued, “It’s also important to remember that we don’t /have/ to retake our human form, even if someone who loves us calls our name. In the end, it is /our/ decision.”
“Oh.” Ichigo looked down at the claws on his hands, then sighed and rubbed at his face. “You… want me to change, then?”
Rerugen cocked his head to one side, expression concerned. “Do you not wish to? There are other things I can teach you if that’s the case.”
Uryuu grimaced. He knew exactly what Ichigo’s reluctance was, and he didn’t blame his friend for it. The transition from human to wolf and back had never gotten any easier on him no matter what they tried. Even Yoruichi hadn’t managed to help, her transformation too different from their own.
(Uryuu loved her a little for her efforts. For the way she snarled at Urahara when the man looked like he wanted to /experiment/. For the way she didn’t push Ichigo to try to change back, even though they all suspected he could.)
“I— no. It’s alright,” Ichigo said with reluctance, lips thinning as he braced himself.
But before he could, Rerugen scowled and stepped closer, hand settling on Ichigo’s shoulder. “No,” he said sharply. “You are uncomfortable with this. What did I just finish saying?”
Ichigo sent a helpless look at Uryuu, clearly out of his depth, and Uryuu found himself speaking in Ichigo’s stead. “That it’s our choice if we change,” he said, though he couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his tone no matter how he tried. Surely, /surely/ Rerugen would just tell Ichigo to push through his discomfort, that the skill was necessary to learn and practice.
(There was no Yoruichi here to defend Ichigo.)
But instead Rerugen shot Uryuu a pleased look and nodded at him before focusing on Ichigo again. “Exactly,” he said kindly. “It is /your/ choice, not mine. If you do not want to, then you do not have to. Knowing that the possibility is there is enough for me, since one day that knowledge might save your life.”
“Wouldn’t you rather I practice it, then?” Ichigo asked hesitantly.
“Practice only makes the change easier to control,” Erich said as he released Ichigo’s shoulder and stepped back. “The change is always a part of us, and so long as the moon is in the sky our bodies /want/ to be wolves. Now that you know it’s possible, figuring out how to trigger it will be like stretching a limb gone numb.” He took another couple steps back, rolled his shoulders, and said, “Let me demonstrate, so you know I’m not lying.”
Uryuu moved to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Ichigo, trying to provide a modicum of comfort to his friend. He… wasn’t sure how to feel about all of this. There had to be a trap somewhere. Surely Rerugen wouldn’t back down so easily.
There was /something/ odd in Rerugen’s gaze as he watched the two of them, before he tipped his head to the side, breathed out, and /changed/.
Ichigo inhaled sharply and Uryuu stared in shock as Rerugen’s body /faded away/, clothes falling away and his body turning into a silver mist that flowed like quicksilver into a new form. His change was /beautiful/, and the wolf that stood in Rerugen’s place was alert and clearly unbothered by the change he’d just gone through.
“That looked nothing like mine,” Ichigo murmured. He reached a hand out and grabbed Uryuu’s wrist in a bruising grip, fine tremors shaking his hand and arm. “Do… do you think…”
Uryuu wished he had an answer to the unspoken ‘is it because of my heritage?’ that Ichigo — that they /both/ — were wondering about. If he forced himself to change fully like Rerugen implied he could, would his change look like that while Ichigo’s remained the rough, disorienting transition that it currently was?
Reregun’s ears perked forward and he watched both of them carefully, something almost like /concern/ in his body language. What he had to be concerned about Uryuu didn’t know, and maybe he was just projecting or reading something that wasn’t there, but… it was disorienting either way.
Finally, Rerugen /whuffed/ and looked to Ren, head cocked and tail wagging slowly, clearly waiting for something. When Ren arched an eyebrow at him, he just blinked and gave them a canine ‘smile’.
Ren clicked their tongue, expression warm and amused. “I see how it is,” they spoke with a smile, “/Rerugen Erich/.”
Uryuu watched in awe as the transformation reversed just as smoothly as it had started, Rerugen’s form melting away and flowing into his human shape with no sign of distress or disorientation. In fact, the man knelt to grab his pants before his body had even finished solidifying, capable of coordinated motions that Ichigo /never/ was.
While Rerugen pulled his clothing back on, Uryuu nudged Ichigo until his friend turned to him. He desperately wished he had any sort of answer for Ichigo, but in lieu of that… “We could ask?” he suggested softly, hoping that Ichigo would agree.
It was more ways that Rerugen could /hurt/ them, but… it was also a chance at /answers/. Answers they had no way to find. So far, Rerugen had been nothing like every other Quincy they’d met, and had even insisted that the lycanthropy was /older/ than their Quincy heritage.
He seemed… genuine. Honest. Willing to help them the way only their pack ever had.
Ichigo shivered and cast a sidelong glance at Rerugen, who was watching them with /definite/ concern on his expression. “We could,” he murmured. His lips compressed into a thin line and he took a deep breath. “Do /you/ think we should?”
“Yes.” Uryuu didn’t give himself a chance to hesitate. They’d already faced ridicule and hatred. What could Rerugen Erich do that the Wandenreich hadn’t already done?
(He didn’t want to think too hard on that.)
“Rerugen-san, a question,” Ichigo started as soon as he had Uryuu’s agreement, turning to face Rerugen properly again. “Your transformation, was it always so… easy?”
“No. I was the first Change in generations, and it took time to accustom myself to the difference between my own power and the wild reishi that controls the shift.”
“Wild reishi?” Uryuu had never considered /that/ as an option — Urahara had said that the mechanisms of their shift were complex, but he’d never indicated that he thought /reishi/ might be the culprit. “What does that even /mean/? Reishi is just reishi, isn’t it?”
“Yes and no. Our bodies draw in reishi naturally over the course of the day, and most of it we simply expel back into the world. But when our wolf inheritance has been unlocked, our bodies cling to more of that power than usual. And then, when the moon is overhead, our inheritance /takes/ that power and activates it. But because the change is fueled by an outside source, those of us who have experience with controlling our own power have a tendency to fight it,” Rerugen explained.
Ichigo frowned and looked down at his hands, running his thumb over his claws. “So… it’s so hard because… I’m fighting it? Even when I return to human form?”
Rerugen nodded. “You’re not precisely fighting the change, you’re fighting the sensation of power /not your own/ affecting your body.”
“Can you… can you teach me?” Ichigo asked softly, squaring his shoulders and meeting Rerugen’s gaze stubbornly. “I don’t want to keep /feeling/ like that if I don’t have to.”
Rerugen’s stance softened and he smiled reassuringly. “Of course I can. How good are you at sensing?”
“I… could be better,” Ichigo admitted ruefully.
“He’d decent at close range,” Uryuu added when it seemed like Ichigo was going to leave it there.
Rerugen hummed then held out his hands, palm up, to both of them. “Here, let’s try this, then. You both hold on to my hands and I’ll shift. Try to focus on what’s happening while I do so, and see if that helps any.”
“That won’t hurt you?” Uryuu asked as he and Ichigo stepped closer. He’d never dare touch Ichigo while he was in the middle of a shift, uncertain if he could disturb or interrupt the change by accident.
“No, though if I concentrate on keeping my hands in yours, you’re going to need to help support me,” Rerugen said with a smile. “Canine bodies aren’t particularly meant for standing on their hind legs.”
“Wait, you can control even your /stance/?” Ichigo asked incredulously.
“Skill and practice. Lots and lots of practice,” Rerugen answered with a dry laugh. “And lots of making my wife laugh at my plight.”
This close, Uryuu could /feel/ the man’s reiatsu, warm and welcoming and so, /so/ pleased to be interacting with them. It was humbling to realize exactly how /much/ it meant to Rerugen that they’d accepted his offer, even with as wary as they were.
It made his decision easier.
He took hold of one of Rerugen’s hands and concentrated, trying to hone his senses in on just the man. He could feel Ichigo’s focus narrowing down as well and wondered how much Ichigo could feel. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary, at least at first, but then—
Erich’s hand dissolved in his.
The ‘mist’ was cool and smooth and more solid than it looked. Even when Uryuu lightly squeezed, his fingers didn’t sink into it the way he expected, but rather compressed the ‘mist’ like he had squeezed a flesh and blood hand.
And the /sensations/!
Reishi and reiatsu flowed through the ‘mist’, coupled together in a way Uryuu had never seen before. There was a delicate balance, and Uryuu could see why Rerugen would say it had been difficult to learn how to shift as smoothly as he did. The slightest upset and the reishi would be scattered and fragmented instead of working as a single action.
“/Oh!/” Ichigo breathed at his side, leaning in and bringing up his other hand to lay it tentatively against what had been Rerugen’s arm. “/Oh!/ It’s like— oil and water. And if you fight it— /oh/…”
The ‘mist’ solidified in Uryuu’s hand, becoming a large, warm paw. Rerugen’s weight settled on him as the man let Uryuu and Ichigo support him in the unnatural stance he’d taken.
(It was humbling, the trust the man had in them already.)
Rerugen’s ears were perked forward and his tail was wagging happily. He was clearly pleased with them, especially Ichigo.
“So… I’m right?” Ichigo asked, then gave the paw in his hand a considering look when Rerugen barked and wagged his tail harder. “I think… maybe I have it? I think… I think I’ll try it.”
Rerugen barked again and pulled his paws free of their hands, moving back to sit and stare expectantly up at Ichigo.
Uryuu gave Ichigo’s arm a squeeze and moved back to give his friend room as well. He hoped that Ichigo’s usual learning curve would apply here as well — he /hated/ how the shift left Ichigo shivering and disoriented, and if Rerugen was right, if this could help…
Uryuu would do everything in his power to help, even if that was just being support and comfort and the one to call Ichigo out of his wolf shape time after time.
Jyuushiro took in the way Sasaki’s shoulders lowered minutely the moment they crossed the ward-lines of the Ugendo. Even the man’s carefully controlled reiatsu gained a calmer edge the further they walked along the path towards Jyuushiro’s home. It was clear Sasaki felt at home here on the grounds, just as much as he felt at home around Jyuushiro and Shunsui and Unohana.
(It was interesting to watch Sasaki’s movements, to listen to his voice, and /recognize/ bits and pieces of his mannerisms.)
(How close were they in his world, that he would adopt mannerisms from all of them?)
“Are you hungry?” Jyuushiro asked as he slid open the door and stepped through, pausing to trade his sandals for house slippers.
“I could eat,” Sasaki agreed, reaching out absently to an empty spot, then freezing with a grimace as his hand closed over nothing instead of the slippers he was clearly expecting. His gaze skittered to Jyuushiro then away, and he stiltedly pulled on a pair of guest slippers, shoulders rigid and reiatsu drawing inward.
Jyuushiro bit back a frown, wishing desperately that Shunsui had come home with him instead of staying to help sort out the mess left behind. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered his home to Sasaki, but the man had seemed /relieved/, initially, and had been relaxing on their walk up.
Jyuushiro wasn’t blind. Sasaki had deliberately chosen to approach the three of them out of every being gathered, even the well-loved teens. Had seemed almost /disturbed/ by the teens — or perhaps by Urahara? He hadn’t caught the direction of the man’s gaze close enough to be certain.
“I’ll see what’s available, then,” Jyuushiro told Sasaki with a smile, then glanced over the man thoughtfully, taking in the small signs of disarray. “Would you prefer a fresh set of clothing? I’m certain I have some spare that will fit.”
Sasaki hesitated, then slowly nodded. “If it’s no bother,” he said. “I’ve been on my feet and moving for… two days now, I believe.”
“As have we,” Jyuushiro agreed. He led Sasaki down one of the hallways and gestured towards the bathroom. “If you’d like to get clean while I find you something fresh. I’ll leave the clothing just outside the door for you.”
He didn’t miss the flicker of relief across Sasaki’s face, no matter how quickly the man smoothed it out with a pleasant, warm smile. “Thank you,” Sasaki said, inclining his head in a small bow. “I appreciate your hospitality, Ukitake-san.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Jyuushiro countered, then stepped back and turned to head to his room, leaving Sasaki to clean off as thoroughly as the man wanted.
‘What difference in our worlds to produce a man like him,’ Jyuushiro wondered, as he sorted through his clean clothing. ‘Who /is/ he? He feels… familiar?’
He closed his eyes and breathed out, settling his mind and opening his senses. Sasaki was a beacon of power, carefully banked but still obvious at this distance. He’d only met a few people with such power at their disposal: the Soutaicho, Urahara Kaito, and… Kurosaki Ichigo.
Jyuushiro considered that as he folded the clothing and set it by the door to the bathroom. Just like Urahara Kaito felt similar to Urahara /Kisuke/, so too did Sasaki Uryuu feel similar to several of the teens that Urahara Kaito surrounded himself with.
But it was too close of a similarity to be anything but direct relation. From a man who held himself with the confidence of age and experience.
(An alternate reality.)
(Something about that niggled at his mind.)
Jyuushiro shook his head and went in to check the kitchen, making a pleased noise at the sight of the already-prepared food set under a small kido barrier. The servants had made plenty, he figured after a moment of consideration; they’d likely expected him to return with Shunsui at his side.
Either way, by the time Sasaki had returned from his shower, Jyuushiro had set the food out at the table and settled in to wait with a cup of tea. Like he’d suspected, Sasaki had no problem finding his way to the dining room, and the man seemed comfortable in Jyuushiro’s clothing, like he was used to the way the kimono was slightly too large on him.
“Thank you for this,” Sasaki said with a small bow, then took a seat across from Jyuushiro. He absently flicked his hands, nudging back the hems of the sleeves so his hands were free. “I appreciate it.”
Jyuushiro smiled warmly at Sasaki, and gestured for Sasaki to serve himself, noting the sort of items that he seemed to prefer. Dinner passed in quiet, idle conversation, nothing that would reveal anything truly important, just… simple things.
Like the state of Jyuushiro’s pond, and how many koi were currently living in it. Or the annoyances of paperwork. Little amusing anecdotes of their lives that gave only small insights into the worlds they lived in.
When they were done, Sasaki stood before Jyuushiro could, stacking up many of the dishes and carrying them back into the kitchen.
“You don’t have to—”
“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t,” Sasaki cut him off with a dry look, already sorting the dishes out and giving them a basic cleaning. “Your other self already lost this argument,” he pointed out, tone bland.
“Be that as it may, you are my guest,” Jyuushiro tried again, only to blink at the mild, kind, /dangerous/ smile that Sasaki gave him in response. The sort of smile /he/ used whenever someone tried to suggest he rest when he didn’t need it. “You are… far too skilled at that.”
“Learned from the best,” Sasaki agreed, setting aside the dishes for the servants to give a thorough cleaning to later and drying off his hands. “More tea?”
“I… yes, please.”
It felt odd for a stranger to be serving him in his own home, but Sasaki did it with the ease of long habit. He didn’t need to ask where anything was, simply pulled out the kettle and set water on to boil. Then he brought down the teapot that Jyuushiro often used, glanced at Jyuushiro once, then selected one of the tins of tea leaves without question.
It was even odder to realize that Sasaki had selected the tea that Jyuushiro had been about to suggest.
(They really were close, weren’t they?)
They settled on his porch, a small table between them to hold their tea and the darkening grounds before them. The silence was more comfortable than Jyuushiro expected it to be, and he could already see the tension unwinding from Sasaki’s shoulders the longer they sat and simply drank tea.
Until, with a quiet sigh, Sasaki set aside his empty cup and tipped his head back to stare up at the dark sky above them. “Thank you for this,” he murmured. “I know you’re not /my/ Ukitake-ji-san, but still… thank you. I appreciate you going out of your way for a stranger like this.”
“You and he are close,” Jyuushiro said, turning Sasaki’s words over in his mind. Sasaki considered his Ukitake his uncle, and not simply as a way to lower Jyuushiro’s guard around him. He’d suspected it, but… confirmation on the relationship was nice.
“Initially against my will,” Sasaki admitted. “But he, Kyoraku-ji-san, and Unohana-ba-san didn’t let me be until I gave in.” He shrugged and tilted his head enough to give Jyuushiro a tiny, true smile. “They were all quite persistent.”
Jyuushiro chuckled softly and poured himself the last of the tea. “We can be, yes. Was there any particular reason, or..?”
“Ukitake-ji-san and Kyoraku-ji-san used the excuse of my zanpakutou being a dual blade.” At Jyuushiro’s surprised look, Sasaki smirked and nodded. “Yes, exactly.”
(Yet another dual blade user.)
(It /niggled/ at his mind… what was he overlooking?)
“I’m still not entirely certain what Unohana-ba-san saw that interested her,” Sasaki said. “She just… started involving herself.”
Jyuushiro hummed in thought, eyeing Sasaki out of the corner of his eye. There was a chance that Unohana-taicho got involved simply because /they/ had gotten involved, but Jyuushiro somehow doubted that. His instincts were telling him there was more to it than that.
Sasaki brought a hand up, covering a yawn, then gave Jyuushiro a sheepish look. “Sorry. I should probably get some sleep.”
“Understandable,” Jyuushiro said, rising to his feet. “Come, let me set up the guest room for you. And maybe lend a hair brush?” he asked, eyeing Sasaki’s striped, hip-length hair that was free of its previous braid. Sasaki’s hair had a distinctive wave to it, even damp as it still was, and Jyuushiro knew how much difficulty Shunsui had with /his/ hair.
Sasaki hesitated, then gave Jyuushiro another small, true smile. “That would be appreciated, thank you. Finger-combing is only so useful with hair like this.”
He chuckled. “Shunsui complains of the same thing.”
“Kyoraku-ji-san just complains so you’ll brush his hair for him,” Sasaki said with amusement. “He’s lazy like that.”
“I’m aware,” Jyuushiro replied dryly. He was tempted to ask if /Sasaki/ had anyone like that in his life, someone he could be just /himself/ around, but… it felt too personal a question.
(Too /dangerous/ of a question.)
(After all, his counterpart had used the /excuse/ of Sasaki’s dual blades to continually approach the man, according to Sasaki.)
(He knew what that meant.)
Jyuushiro shook his thoughts free and showed Sasaki to a guest room, bringing in bedding and a hair brush while Sasaki dragged the futon out and went about setting it up. And, when Sasaki thanked him and waved him off, Jyuushiro went.
He needed to speak with Sōgyo no Kotowari.
Maybe his spirits would have more insight than what he’d managed to gather himself.
Crack Crossover: Dragon Wings/Dragon Eclipse Part 3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | ???
((Had this bit laying around, the scene ends pretty decently anyway, so... onwards I guess?))
“So what’s with tall, strange, and striped?” Urahara Kisuke asked in a low voice, flicking his fan briefly towards the stranger’s back as the Captain walked away from them. And wasn’t it /ominous/ to see another glasses-wearing, outwardly harmless man taking up the Fifth Division’s mantle. If he didn’t see the resemblance between the original form that his son had shown up in and the appearance of the stranger, he’d be preparing to remove a threat from existence. As it was, he was /still/ keeping track of every action the man made.
(He did /not/ like the instinctive mimicry of some of the most dangerous — and harmless seeming! — Captains amongst the Gotei Thirteen. Aizen, too, had looked harmless throughout most of his life. Too, the man seemed honestly disturbed by him, and /that/ wasn’t a look Kisuke was accustomed to seeing out of such a nearly-familiar face.)
Kaito grimaced. “That would be Sasaki Uryuu. Apparently, in his universe, he got sent back over a hundred years instead of just to the start of the school year. Something /happened/ when we killed Yhwach, and suddenly he was there.”
“Does he know why?” Kisuke watched his son exchange wary looks with his two friends, and braced himself for whatever the boy would say next. A hundred years left a lot of room for changes in a timeline, and given the antipathy that Kaito held for Aizen, Kisuke had no doubt that Sasaki Uryuu had the same. What would Aizen’s early death result in, he wondered. Was it a better world? Worse?
“He blamed his appearance on ‘Gin and Rangiku’. He even called them ‘gakis’,” Ishida replied, with the air of someone not quite believing what he was saying.
Kaito grimaced and continued, picking up as soon as Ishida stopped talking, “And he said that he didn’t think they’d be able to get him back until Rangiku badgered Gin into playing nice with /you/. Except he called you Urahara-san.”
Kisuke blinked and brought his fan to his face, flicking it open and fanning himself with it just to give his hands something to do. “Well, he would hardly call me ‘father’ if I didn’t adopt him in his world,” he absently told his son in order to give himself a moment to process. Gin and Rangiku. ‘Gakis’. First name basis. Even now Ishida barely used anyone’s personal name, and he /knew/ the other used Kaito’s name when they were in private.
His mind raced away, hunting the trails the details were starting to outline, but there was still far, far too much left unanswered. Still, the picture that was developing looked promising; he’d noticed his son’s tendency towards teaching and taking people under his wing, so it wasn’t a stretch to believe that Sasaki Uryuu could retain that same nature.
Appear in a distant past, potentially near Aizen. The opportunity would have been too good to resist; the Uryuu who appeared would have killed Aizen without hesitation. And then, in a distant time, without a purpose and knowing no one…
Well, Sasaki could have done much worse than apparently becoming some sort of adopted parent for Rukongai brats.
