Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Minutes to Midnight ❯ Intermezzo ( Chapter 7 )

Title: Intermezzo

Characters: Aizen, Urahara, brief mentions of others

Rating: K+

Warning: None

Words: 1,035

Description: A reunion between old friends.

 

 

They waited until the sounds of Gin and Ichigo's conversation had faded from their ears, reiatsu vanishing deeper into Las Noches before their own talk became serious. Urahara's voice lost all but a thin edge of teasing, and Aizen's face took on a solemn expression.

 

“So they are coming from him,” the lord of Hueco Mundo stated, lips pulling into a thoughtful frown.

 

Urahara unconsciously tugged on the rim of his hat. “You knew they would.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Shadowed eyes peered at the man on the throne searchingly. “Yet, you still took him under your protection.”

 

Aizen gestured vaguely with one hand. “Soul Society is foolish. I am not.”

 

“Too true.” A hint of fondness crept into Urahara's tone as he fell into the memories of the good, old days, a long century ago. “It's been a while, Sousuke.”

 

“Too long, I should think, my friend,” Aizen responded, only to pause and slide down from his throne, landing silently in front of the blond. “Have you come to join me then?”

 

Kisuke's lips twitched into a teasing grin. “If I did not, you would lose this war,” he retorted, dropping his hand from his hat. “And I won't fight against Ichigo.”

 

“I expected as much,” Sousuke admitted, walking towards a door opposite than the one Gin and Ichigo had taken. “Especially when he came to me of his own volition. I knew they would make that mistake.”

 

Urahara fell into line beside him, that infernal zanpakutou making an occasional tap against the floor. “Your sense of foresight has not changed. Why, if not for you, I might have found myself in Ichigo's place all those years ago.”

 

“Then, you owe me something,” Sousuke suggested, pushing open the door for his friend to precede him into the hall.

 

Kisuke whirled on his feet, turning to face his companion and walking backwards. “Perhaps,” he conceded as the door swung shut behind Sousuke. “But I won't bow to you.”

 

Fingers slid deftly through artfully styled hair. “I fear for my health should I try to make you.”

 

“A wise decision, my friend,” the exiled Shinigami responded with a laugh and then pointedly looked around. “So when do I get a snazzy new outfit?”

 

Sousuke smirked, heading to the left. “Impressed you, has it?”

 

The clack-clack of Kisuke's geta soon joined his silent steps, and Aizen inwardly remarked he would have to get the man some waraji soon. The noise was rather startling in his pristine halls, though it was all part of Kisuke's charm that he caused chaos in whatever he did.

 

“Your sense of style never ceases to amaze me,” Kisuke drawled. “What with those clunky glasses and that hideous brown haori.”

 

“The glasses were a necessity since I could not see without them,” Sousuke reminded him, only mildly offended. “Luckily, there is this wonderful invention in the living world.”

 

Kisuke snickered. “The lord and master of Hueco Mundo wears contacts,” he teased, rolling his eyes.

 

“As I said, a necessity,” Aizen conceded. “And as for the haori...” He paused, face twisting with distaste. “Ukitake is to blame for that. I couldn't, in good conscience, return the gift.”

 

Kisuke nearly coughed, trying to hold back his laughter. Their friend indeed had horrible taste sometimes.

 

“That was his second attempt,” Sousuke thought fit to add. “The first was even worse.”

 

“I am nearly afraid to find out.” Urahara winced.

 

Sousuke inclined his head. “You really don't want to know. Besides, you're not one to talk either.”

 

He reached up, deftly knocking Kisuke's atrocious hat from his head. The shop owner reacted quickly enough to catch it before it hit the ground. The two of them never broke their wandering stride.

 

Kisuke pretend-dusted off the green and white striped accessory with a fake pout. “How juvenile, oh future king of Soul Society,” he chided teasingly. “What would your subordinates say if they could see you now?”

“I daresay Gin would not be surprised. Nor Stark.”

 

The hat jauntily returned to Urahara's head. “And the pretty one?” he asked nonchalantly, though it was clear he was mocking his dear friend. “I suspect he's your favorite.”

 

Sousuke tilted his head, raising one shaking finger. “Ah, but a father never has favorites.”

 

“So you may say, Sousuke,” he retorted in fake disappointment. “You know very well that Gin-chan is your favorite. Though Ichigo seems to be worming his way into your good graces.” He peered searchingly at the other man.

 

A smile snuck onto Aizen's face. “Perhaps. And the same would be true of you.”

 

“Of course,” Kisuke countered with an indignant huff. “I've known him since the day he was born. I used to babysit him when he was just a chubby baby. He just doesn't remember his Hara-oji-san.”

 

Sousuke snorted. “Isshin must be truly insane to trust you with his child. As if he wasn't mad enough already.” There was a pause, his voice turning speculative. “Do you think he will follow you?”

 

Kisuke shook his head, purposefully striking Benihime loudly against the floor just to irritate his good friend. “His primary concern right now is protecting his daughters. They are too young to be left alone, and he trusts Ichigo to be fine on his own.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Besides, he has never had even half as much ambition as you. Or even me.” Kisuke's lips curled into a smirk as he looked at his companion from the corner of his shadowed eyes. “After all, who wouldn't want to serve at the left hand of god?”

 

Sousuke raised one brow. “Oh? Usurping Kaname's position, are we?”

 

Urahara scoffed. “Kana-chan never had that position. It's always belonged to me,” he declared knowingly but then paused, reconsidering. “I would have had to fight Ichigo perhaps, but I think he's set his sights elsewhere. The stubborn boy hasn't even realized it yet.”

 

“I do believe he has,” Aizen responded with a hum of understanding. “It is more than mutual, but I believe they may need a little nudge.”

 

“Ichigo is stubborn,” Kisuke agreed with a chuckle, a devious snigger that didn't bode well for Ichigo. “Just leave it to me.”

 

Sousuke tipped his head, conceding. “If you insist.”

 

*****