Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Bleach Drabbles ❯ Don't Look Back ( Chapter 5 )

Title: Don't Look Back

Author: Theablackthorn

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Ichigo, Isshin/Kisuke

Warnings: BL

A/N: LeftMeSpeechless on FF.net

 

He woke slowly, eyes heavy lidded as he stared around the room swathed in darkness. It took him a few moments to notice what it was that had woken him but when he figured it out he sighed, turning over to face the empty side of the bed and the bedside table that held the image of four glowing red digit's - it was three in the morning.

 

Isshin lifted a hand to wipe slowly across his face, he was tired but something far heavier weighed on his mind. Ichigo had gone out again. The flair of his son's powerful reiatsu when he'd popped himself from his body was the cause of what had initially wakened him. He had been growing far to use to the wave of reiatsu that flooded the house whenever Ichigo was called on and the coincidental wave of apprehension and guilt that flooded him.

 

Would this be the last time he felt his son's presence, or would he come back battered and bruised as he had so many times before?

 

The eldest Kurosaki stared listlessly at the ceiling, feeling the emptiness of the house around him. He knew Ichigo would be gone until morning, he often was. The other shinigami in Karakura kept the boy out til all hours of the night. He winced at the thought of seeing Ichigo in the morning, his features drawn, his body tired and yet he would still drag himself to school.

 

His son was growing older by the day, no longer the teenager he had been but a world-weary soldier called upon time and again.

 

Isshin hadn't noticed any drop in Ichigo's grades, even though he was well aware that Hollows attacked at any time and the amount of time that the mod soul spent in Ichigo's empty body was growing in its frequency and length. He was proud of Ichigo in so many ways and yet he felt responsible for everything that had happened to him in the last two years. His son had lost his innocence far earlier than Isshin would have wanted.

 

He wondered, as he did every time his eldest left the house on one of his late night hunts, if he'd done the right thing. He had left Soul Society and had found his beautiful wife and had three amazing children. And though he loved them all dearly and couldn't dream of ever leaving them, of not being able to love them. He still wondered if having children, knowing that they ran the risk of inheriting his shinigami powers and their Mother's own spirit sight, had he made the right decision?

 

Hindsight was both a gift and a curse. And though he knew that he couldn't undo what had come to pass, he regretted so many things.

 

He sighed audibly; the sheet's rustling as he turned to look at his own bedside table and reaching out to run his fingertips across Masaki's picture, sadness weighing heavily in his heart. “Masaski - what am I going to do?”

 

The picture had nothing to say and as much as Isshin wished his wife could be there, her hands rubbing across his back as he let his worries take him over, she wouldn't return. What he wouldn't give for her advice or just a gentle touch. Though he knew it was a selfish wish on his part, because Ichigo, Karin and Yuzu needed her more.

 

He missed her fervently; she had been his rock, the person to weigh him down to Earth whenever she thought he needed it. And though he had found comfort and solace with someone else - he would always love her fiery nature, her passion. Ichigo had inherited that and sometimes that had been the only thing keeping him in the house and letting his only son walk out to face the world on his own.

 

He rose slowly from the bed, it was going to be one of those nights, sleepless until dawn when Ichigo would return in whatever state he had gotten himself into. The boy had never known how many time Isshin had come up to tend to him as he lay unconscious how many times he had put the young man to rights as his heart felt like it was breaking.

 

He needed company tonight or he didn't know if he would make it to dawn without going to help his only son. It was his fault, this was his legacy and he would bear it, but sometimes he needed a little help.

 

 

00-00-00

 

Urahara came out of his shop, cane in one hand fan hanging at his side as he eyed the man sat on his porch. He had felt Isshin arrive, even though his reiatsu was dampened to the point were very few could feel it. He had an inkling of why the elder Kurosaki was on his doorstep and he felt something heavy, which he refused to acknowledge settle on his shoulders. He let a soft sigh escape his lip's before he spoke quietly, “What are you doing up at this hour Isshin?”

 

He watched as the dark haired man looked up and over his shoulder, his normally cheerful visage looked drawn and for once the man looked tired. It pulled at Urahara, he didn't like seeing him like this and he knew that he wanted to make it better, to bring some of that determination back to Isshin's face.

“I just… needed to be near someone.” The words sounded tired too - forlorn.

The shop keeper hunched down, knees creaking as his weight rested on his heels, beside his old friend, curiosity edging in, “What about the girl's?”

“There away on a camping trip with school for the week.”

He waited for Isshin's reply, it was subdued and almost relieved. He wasn't sure he understood that relief but then he didn't have all the information did he?

He eyed Isshin from under the shadow of his hat; this would need something a little extra. He had known Isshin long before they both had left Soul Society and he was a good friend and he knew this mood all too well, “Ahhh… tea?”

“Hmm…yes please.”

Urahara smiled, though Isshin didn't see, his concentration having returned to the open area before the shoten. He didn't call for Tessai, slipping inside the shop and preparing the tea himself before returning to settle beside the unmoving Kurosaki.

He poured the steaming tea into two cups as he spoke, fan sat beside him, cane resting against his leg within easy reach, “You're being maudlin again.”

“I know.”

He looked down at the quiet man, looking through a mist of steam rising from the cup he'd brought to his lips, “That won't help you know? Masaki wouldn't appreciate it either. She would be the first to berate you for it.”

He could hear the deep breath and the heavy sigh that followed as Isshin spoke, “I know that too.”

He couldn't help but question, probe and dig for answers it was in his nature to do so, he was a scientist but this was more than that - Isshin was a friend, more than a friend to him. Though the dark-haired man didn't know that, he couldn't help this deep seated need to help him. “So?”

“So, I can't always help it - he's my son Kisuke.”

Urahara shivered when that deep voice whispered his name, the ghost of heated finger's drawing up his spine before he willed it away - now wasn't the time - if it ever would be.

He watched Isshin's posture shrink further, his shoulder's looked like they were weighing him down as he leant heavily on his knees, head bent forward , shadowing his face from Urahara's gaze.

He looked down at his hands as they held the delicate porcelain cup, he drew a deep breath, the sweet scented tea filling his sense as he put together a suitable response, “Though I am not a Father, Isshin, I do understand that there are responsibilities - feelings, that never go away. But you do this too much. Don't you have any faith in him at all?”

The question was calculated, as most of his words word, designed to make one think, assess, incite and it did its job well.

“Of course I do!”

Isshin turned to level a glare at him and he shrugged, apparently completely comfortable with that hard look levelled on him, even though ever hair on his body was standing to attention as he remembered that look paired with a reiatsu that caressed over his body like velvet. But his sudden need wasn't conveyed in his words. All that sounded was a firm, almost demanding voice that he didn't use often, it was a remnant of a person he had been long ago and had left behind, “Then start showing it.”

The way Isshin's eyes widened at the tone of his voice was both amusing and endearing, he'd never managed to startle the normally laid back man.

“I…”

Urahara kept his gaze locked with Isshin's, willing him to see what he was doing, to make him think beyond what he was seeing. The man was doing himself more harm than good and if he wasn't careful he would hurt the people closest to him, this type of thinking was destructive - he knew that all too well.

Yoruichi had taught him that lesson - and he hadn't forgotten.

“Your concern is warranted, I'd be a fool to tell you otherwise but Ichigo is strong - bullheaded - just like his Father.”

“Thanks.”

He got a quiet snort from the dark haired man and he felt a little better for it, for Isshin to be even vaguely amused by his insult was a result in his book.

Isshin took the cup of tea Urahara offered him, those big hands wrapping around the small cup and making Urahara think about those hands far less innocently than he knew he should. His focus had wavered for a moment but as soon as Isshin spoke he focused again, just needing the slight prompt to keep him on track.

“I want to help him Kisuke; I sit at home with the girl's every night and he goes out to fight who knows what - Hollows, Arrancars? It never ends for him and he's just a kid.”

Urahara sighed, he'd often felt the same. He cared about these children far more than he let on. Some nights he wished he'd never gotten them involved and yet he knew that the time was coming when they would be the only thing between victory and defeat. It weighed rather heavily on him and he couldn't deny Isshin the same feelings, his son was involved and that was far more reason for concern than his own. Which is why he regretted what he had to say next, how do you tell a Father that their son isn't a child any longer - he's a man?

Urahara didn't even try for subtly, he just went straight for it and hoped that Isshin wouldn't be too mad, “No he isn't. Ichigo grew up, he took on his responsibilities because he had to, because he had people he wanted to protect and he had the power to do so. You should be proud of him.”

“I am. But I worry… I regret so many things, things that if I'd done differently…”

Urahara was a little surprised by Isshin's easy acquiescence, but he could hear the raw quality in his voice a mix of sadness, regret and guilt. He couldn't let it take hold and undo what they had started; he needed Isshin to be strong. He had plans after all.

He went straight for the jugular, silently thanking a certain woman who had taught him such tactics, “He wouldn't exist. Could you live with that Isshin? Could you wish away your only link to Masaki, your family?”

“Never.”

Urahara had never been so glad to hear that familiar Kurosaki stubbornness; it was a rather familiar family trait that Ichigo shared. “Then stop living in the past, what's done is done - you can't change it.”

“I know.”

He could see that te deep frown that had been dipping Isshin's brow was lifting in small increments and he reached out, sensing what little reiatsu Isshin had and knowing the darkness that had edged it was receding. He sipped his tea before responding once more, “If you know Isshin, then stop doing this to him and to yourself.”

“I will try.”

Urahara was happy that Isshin was improving, for once oddly proud of himself for being able to talk his old friend into a better frame of mind. He'd envied Masaki the ease with which she had cheered this formidable man, he'd never want to face Isshin's temper. He stared at the eldest Kurosaki from under his striped hat's eyes hidden, “Good. The time is coming when he is going to need all the help he can get.”

He paused for a moment, setting his cup on the tray he'd brought the tea out on, “That includes you old friend.”

“I hope I can make him proud.”

Urahara could see the burgeoning passion he was used to seeing in Isshin's face, the determination and sense of self that made him such a formidable opponent. And Urahara knew Ichigo would be proud of this man he resembled so much, “You will.”

“How do you know?”

When question umber orb's turned to look at him he was glad for the shadows created by his hat, feeling heart rush into his cheeks for the first time in a very long time at Isshin's undivided attentions. He swallowed quietly and spoke softly, not used to giving having such personal conversations, pep talk's yes but this was different, “Because I believe in you both - far more than you believe in yourself.”

“I…”

He watched with mild amusement as Isshin's own cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink, and it made warmth bubble up in the pit of his stomach. He took pity on the other man and changed the subject, “Aren't you going to drink your tea, Isshin?”

He looked down to fill his own cup but was startled by Isshin's hand appearing in his peripheral vision, clasping his forearm through the voluminous sleeves of his green top, “Thank you, Kisuke.”

Urahara shivered at the firm grip and the softly spoken thanks, but he also felt a wave of that familiar guilt well up, and he spoke adamantly, “Don't.”

His gaze rose to look up at the dark haired man and the soft smile that curled his lips made Urahara's heart flutter erratically in his chest, there was such warmth in that smile, in that molten chocolate gaze.

“And yet I do.”

His face flushed further and he went to turn his face down, carefully pulling back to remove Isshin's grip from his arm without effect. That large, calloused palm refused to release him and he felt something fluttering apprehensively in his belly. He looked up from under the edge of his hat to see Isshin closing in.

Urahara shifted back and came up short, banging into the railing beside him, and Isshin closed the distance, quick finger's relieved Urahara of his hat, letting the cool air ruffle his sandy coloured locks and he looked away. He was surprised by the soft lip's that pressed to his cheek, warmth shooting from that spot to rush through his body, as Isshin's breath ghosted across his newly exposed ear, “Thank you Kisuke - but now I need something else from you. I have been waiting for a while now.”

“What are you saying?” His eyes darted back to Isshin's face to see a grin splitting his lips.

“You know.”

The dark haired man leant in, running his tongue around the curve of Kisuke's ear and he desperately restrained the moan that wanted to escape. His body was heating rapidly, his cock swelling with arousal and pressing against his baggy trousers, only hidden by his shirt.

He wanted to protest, scrambling for something that would stop Isshin. He wasn't ready for this, hadn't ever thought it possible. “But Ichigo...”

“Is a grown up as you have already told me once this evening.”

Kisuke could hear the laughter in Isshin's voice and it made something close to his heart squeeze at the rich sound. But he couldn't not protest, he wanted Isshin, but there were so many other things to consider, “But...Masaki...”

“...would want me to be happy.”

That firm reply almost silenced him, the woman had meant the world to Isshin and he knew that he still loved her dearly. Could there be room in his heart for anyone else? “But...”

“Shush... you talk too much.”

He didn't get to finish as those slightly chapped lips pressed against his own, those broad hands coming to rest on his waist and in his hair, holding him so that he couldn't escape. When Isshin's tongue gently caressed the seam of his lip's he parted them on a moan, letting the hot, slick appendage slide past to delve into his mouth. He didn't know what was ahead, he didn't know what this was - but he would take what he could get, even if they were making out on his front porch like two horny teenagers, he was glad his Isshin was back and the sad, maudlin man that had appeared on his stoop was gone.