Bleach Fan Fiction ❯ Seireitei Monogatari ❯ Rukia's Dating Service - Urahara ( Chapter 24 )

Title: Rukia's Dating Service - Urahara

Characters/Pairings: Isshin, Rukia, Yoruichi, potential Urahara/Ichigo, Isshin/Urahara, mentions of Urahara/Aizen

Rating: T

Warning: Rampant OOC, older men kissing each other, gobbling of food, etc, etc.

Words: 3, 192

Description: If at first and second, you don't succeed, try again.

 

 

It would have been a quiet, typical dinner. It should have been a quiet, typical dinner, but with all things concerning Kuchiki Rukia, nothing could ever be simple. The word wasn't in her vocabulary. In her mind, it had been completely erased, obliterated from existence.

 

But the word complicate? Now, that was her favorite.

 

Ichigo was well used to her using it quite often.

 

It started out simple enough, he supposed. She was still smarting over her last failure, determined to make it up to him. She was certain he was lonely, and her little fangirl heart was determined to see him paired up with someone. Too bad Ichigo was tired of playing her little matchmaker game.

 

“How about Urahara?” Rukia suddenly blurted out, attempting to bat her innocent eyelashes and hold sway over him as always.

 

Ichigo's eyes narrowed into slits so that he might have been mistaken for Ichimaru Gin. “Hell, no,” he said firmly and through clenched teeth. His fingers tightened on his chopsticks, threatening to snap them in half.

 

Breakage was imminent.

 

Until he noticed the odd look on his father's face. Now, normally, Ichigo didn't look at Isshin when all were gathered at the dinner table because it was disgusting to watch his father eat. But circumstances as they were, he happened to catch an unwanted glance and found something he hadn't expected to see.

 

Not only had his father been completely silent at Rukia's suggestion, but a funny look had crossed over his face. If Ichigo didn't know better, he might have thought it was jealousy. But since that was impossible as Goat-Face did not possibly know Sandal-and-Hat guy, it could not have been jealousy.

 

Perhaps he had gas.

 

Not wanting to go down that particular route, Ichigo made a face to himself, glared at Rukia, and went back to his food. Yuzu had cooked it, after all, and it would be rude if he didn't eat. He hated to see the look of disappointment on her face. It made him wibble inside.

 

“Then what about Kira?” Rukia suggested, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Ichigo had already said no once and wasn't going to play her game.

 

He sighed, another negative on the tip of his tongue, but that was only until he comprehended just who she had said. Tilting his head to the side and pondering, Ichigo realized that a date with Kira did not sound half-bad. In fact, it was rather intriguing. Kira seemed kind and sensible and cute. And most importantly, sane. And well, there was something about those baby blues that were incredibly inviting.

 

“Fine,” he grunted.

 

She beamed at him. Yuzu and Karin completely ignored the little exchange as they were quite used to the antics. However, that starry-eyed look never vanished from Isshin's eyes. Ichigo could smell trouble, and he didn't like it. Nope, not one bit.

 

Which was why he found himself standing inside an amusement park at the asscrack of dawn, waiting for Kira - Izuru, he reminded himself - to arrive. Well, perhaps it wasn't quite the asscrack, but nine in the morning did seem awfully early for him to be awake on a Saturday. Luckily, Ichigo had already bought the tickets and was currently waiting, not snoozing, on a bench, perched beneath a tree that fortunately shaded him from the sun. It wasn't too bad of a position, really. It was a peaceful, nice moment, what with the music playing softly in the background and the wind gently blowing through the trees. He rather liked it.

 

Well, that was until a green and white blur appeared out of nowhere, throwing its arms around his neck and proceeding to hug him to death. He was frighteningly reminded of his father in that moment and began to panic, wanting to get away from the terrifying glomp of affection. Only, he knew this wasn't quite Goat-Face. No, Ichigo recognized that familiar green and white stripe.

 

“Sandal-and-Hat guy?” he managed to squeak out through the clenching of his ribs. He vaguely noted that Urahara smelled better than Isshin, much like candy. The strange urge to consume floated up in him, along with a sudden desire for chocolate.

 

Odd, really.

 

His words were the trigger it seemed. Urahara instantly pulled back, pulling his fan out from that mysterious, invisible space it seemed to stay and snapping it in front of his face.

 

“Yare, yare, Kurosaki-kun. And since we're already such great friends now, you can call me Kis-uke-chan!” he declared, eyes daring around as if he were looking for something else, though it was difficult to see that beneath the hat.

 

His eyes turned to snake-like slits. “I don't want to call you anything,” Ichigo growled. “What did you do with Kira? You didn't kill him did you?” he demanded, in that second, all of his wonderful fantasies of having a calm, nice date with Kira dying a horrible, bankai death.

 

He was going to kill her, murder her, make a nice fillet of her treacherously, conniving body.

 

That familiar and annoying laugh slipped from Urahara's mouth. The one that meant he was almost certainly hiding something.

 

“Of course not. I don't know what you're talking about. Dear, sweet, Rukia-chan told me to come here and meet Kurosaki.” He stepped close to the irascible teen, rubbing shoulders with Ichigo in a friendly manner. “We're going on a date!”

 

Even as he spoke the words, however, his eyes were telling another story, again scanning the area.

 

Ichigo was still suspicious, especially since Sandal-and-Hat guy was acting weirder than usual. “Are you looking for somebody?”

 

The candy shop owner gave a slightly nervous, unUrahara-like laugh. “Should I be?”

 

The substitute shinigami could only regard him with confusion and a strange look. He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he simply dismissed it as he did most of the inane and unimportant things that Urahara said.

 

“So… um…”

 

“Why don't we go ride the roller coaster while we wait?” Urahara suggested, the fan disappearing to its usual fourth-dimension of non-existence.

 

With nothing better to do and resigning himself to his fate, Ichigo agreed. “Okay,” he said as they walked away, heading for the nearest line.

 

Luckily, this time of year, it wasn't too long. But it was then that it hit him.

 

He stared at Urahara, certain he had missed something. “Wait? Wait for what?”

 

The candy shop owner merely laughed. “Oh, you know,” he responded dismissively. That nervous, unUrahara-like look was back in his eyes.

 

“No, I don't,” Ichigo said flatly.

 

He had the feeling that there was something going on that he didn't know about. And he hated it.

 

His hair was then ruffled, in an almost fatherly motion, which was filled with affection.

 

“Yes, you do,” Urahara assured him.

 

Ichigo opened his mouth to say something in the negative when the dull murmur of conversation behind him suddenly caught his attention. Along with a very girlish giggle. As if unable to control himself, he began to eavesdrop with little subtlety.

 

“Look at the blond in front of us,” came the loud whisper.

 

There was an answering giggle. “Isn't that so sweet? He's here with his son.”

 

“Though the kid must take after his mother with that hair.”

 

There was a girlish sigh, almost of one who was daydreaming. “Yeah, but isn't it cute? They're bonding, and you know how kids are these days.”

 

Ichigo felt his eyebrow twitch at their words and had half a mind to turn around and glare at the women, just for appearances sake. Urahara? His father? It was bad enough that he was related to Isshin!

 

Beside him, the candy shop owner was snickering into his mysteriously appeared fan.

 

Finally, they were seated on the ride, scrunched into seats barely large enough for a kid much less a teenager and strapped down with so many belts and buckles that Ichigo half-thought he was at a bondage fest. Urahara seemed especially giddy; Ichigo was fighting not to throw up. Battling Hollows and flying through the air on his own power was slightly different than being strapped into a rickety contraption of rails and such under someone else's control.

 

Or maybe he just didn't like giving up control.

 

The roller coaster started with a lurch, and Ichigo held on for dear life, too startled by the constant up and down and steep curves to even utter a peep. His companion, however, was not the least bit embarrassed to display his fun. It was rather like going somewhere, anywhere for that matter, with Isshin.

 

Ichigo felt that full body shudder once again.

 

Some date.

 

Afterwards, with jelly-like legs firmly planted on the ground where they belong, the two loitered outside the exit, trying to decide what to do next.

 

“How was it?” Urahara asked, likely talking about the ride but somehow coming out in Ichigo's mind as something entirely different.

 

He struggled for a vaguely coherent answer. He furrowed his brow.

 

“Like Shunpo, but not really,” he responded, only then noting that Urahara was acting… strange. Not once had he been groped or fondled. Actually, if he dare thought it, it was more like Urahara was being fatherly of all things.

 

The former captain laughed. “That makes sense,” he responded.

 

Then came the awkward silence and usual shuffling of feet.

 

Ichigo groped around for a suggestion finally coming up with, “How about a snack?”

 

Grinning, Urahara snapped his fan closed, somehow having held the thing during the entire ride. “Sounds good to me.”

 

Decision made, the two headed for the nearest snack bar, getting into the rather short line and waiting patiently. Ichigo made his order of a funnel cake with Urahara echoing him. He couldn't help it; the western cakes were dangerously addictive. Besides, it wasn't his fault if the powered sugar got everywhere.

 

Reaching into his pocket with the intention of paying since he knew cheapskate Urahara wouldn't, the substitute Shinigami was distracted when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. But it was impossible. There was no way that Isshin was also at the amusement park. Surely, he was just seeing things. It was then that Urahara's arm slid past his slack figure, discreetly setting money into the waiting cashier's palm. This started Ichigo out of his fugue, and he blinked, shocked as hell that Urahara would willingly pay for anything.

 

She smiled winningly at the handsome man in the striped hat. “Here you are, sir,” she flirted in her most pleasant voice, handing out the paper plates covered in fried dough and powered sugar. “And one for your son.”

 

Ichigo accepted his with a firm and hateful scowl. He couldn't decide which was worse: people thinking Urahara was his dad or the fact that Isshin really was his father. It was currently a 50/50 debate.

 

Turning around to leave the line, Ichigo's day went from bad to pitifully worse. He came face to face with his worst nightmare, an enthusiastic Isshin.

 

His scowl deepened. “Goat-Face,” Ichigo muttered, barely tipping his head in greeting.

 

“Isshin,” Urahara greeted, his voice strangely chipper.

 

The smile on his father's face was too broad to be real. “Iiiiiiichigo!”

 

“Yoruichi,” both Urahara and Isshin at the same time, bringing Ichigo's attention to the fact that the Shihouin heir was actually standing just behind his father. He hadn't even noticed her.

 

Tch, damn ninjas.

 

She grinned. “Ooh, cake. I love those.”

 

Without another word, she sprang forward and promptly stole the funnel cake from Ichigo's slack grip. He gaped at her audacity until another one was pressed into his hand, to his surprise, it being the one that Urahara had bought. And he had done it, seemingly without thinking. Thus another reason for Ichigo's head to spin.

 

It was all just too weird.

 

With an aggravated exhalation, Ichigo turned his attention back to the two old farts, only to realize that they were staring at each other with a look that could only be described as blatant longing. His eyes widened in disbelief as they ping-ponged between the two men. Behind him, Yoruichi continued to stuff her face as she subtly started coaxing them in the direction of the rest of the park.

 

“We've been waiting for you, Isshin,” Urahara suddenly said in an astoundingly bright and cheery voice, just barely hinted with a bit of nervous tremble.

 

Ichigo had never heard that tone before.

 

Wait.

 

“We have?” he asked, blinking in confusion.

 

Scratch that.

 

“Wait! You know each other!?!”

 

“Of course we do, Ichigo,” Isshin responded, shooting his son that annoying look that he always seemed to carry around in his back pocket. “Don't you remember your Uncle Hara?”

 

“U-uncle Hara?” Ichigo repeated, even more confused and now slightly scared.

 

Had Sandal-and-Hat guy been in his house and he not know it?

 

Isshin nodded enthusiastically, throwing his arms wide. “Yes! He was there for us after dear, sweet Masaki passed. He held me when I cried rivers of sorrow, comforted me through those long and lonely nights, put my life back together when it was in tatters.” He paused dramatically before adding, “And even gave Karin and Yuzu baths when I could hardly pull myself from bed.”

 

Brown eyes nearly popped out of his bed as he shoved a slightly shaking finger towards Urahara, who was barely concealing a laugh behind his fan. “That p-p-pervert?” he demanded, stuttering in his outrage. “You trust him around your children?”

 

It was then that Yoruichi, having finished pigging out on the first one, snagged his second funnel cake before he could even taste it. He was simply too distracted to realize it, and at this point, he was too concerned to even care.

 

“Let's go ride something,” she chirped around a mouthful of cake, completely interrupting the entire conversation.

 

“Ooooo, how about the boat ride?” Isshin suggested in all too girlish tone, clapping his hands together enthusiastically.

 

She pumped a fist into the air. “Great idea!”

 

Popping the last of the funnel cake in her mouth, which she had devoured in no more than three bites, Yoruichi threaded her arm through Ichigo's and manhandled him towards the ride. He had no choice but to stumble along, any protest on his part dismissed. In the back of his mind, he mourned the loss of the nice date he could have had with Kira.

 

Such a tragedy.

 

Luckily, since it was the lamest ride in the amusement park, there was absolutely no line. They were seated immediately, Isshin and Urahara crowding into the front seat, while Yoruichi pulled Ichigo onto her lap in the back. He promptly scurried away and pressed against the far side of the seat, away from her seductive wiles. Still, he felt like a mouse in front of a hungry cat.

 

As the boat jerked away from the dock with a jolting movement that made him cling to the sides, Ichigo realized he was not having any fun at all. Especially when he could hear the low tones of the conversation in front of him, which was incredibly disturbing.

 

“We were waiting for you, Isshin,” Urahara was saying, repeating what he had already told the other man earlier.

 

The thought occurred to Ichigo.

 

“Wait? How did you get here?” he asked his father, incredibly confused. They still hadn't told him how they knew each other.

 

“Yoruichi came and got me,” Isshin replied with a bounce - yes, a bounce.

 

The boat rocking, Ichigo clung harder.

 

“Why?” Urahara asked, tilting his head to the side. He waved his fan in front of his face, regarding Isshin from beneath the rim of his hat. “Didn't you know you were supposed to meet us here?”

 

Isshin stopped rocking. “What?”

 

“Rukia-chan said to meet Kurosaki here. And then, I saw Ichigo-kun and thought it was supposed to be three of us. Bonding!”

 

Ichigo's eyebrows sprang into his hairline, but he had completely given up on either of them explaining how they knew each other. Instead, he buried his face in his hand and shook his head, letting loose a groan of embarrassment. An elbow jabbed painfully into his side.

 

“It's about damn time,” Yoruichi whispered loudly once she had his attention, leaning uncomfortably close.

 

Startled, the youngest male blinked. “For what?” he asked warily, slightly afraid of what she was talking about.

 

She grinned and gestured with her head to the others in front of them. “Just watch,” she said with a sly grin.

 

He didn't know if he wanted to. Yet, unbidden, the words floated his direction and he had no choice but to hear them.

 

“I've always liked you, Isshin.”

 

“But you and Sousuke-kun?”

 

“It didn't work out between us.”

 

Ichigo frowned. Where had he heard that name before? It sounded so damn familiar.

 

Nevertheless, Urahara continued, his voice surprisingly soft and… regretful? Was that a serious, sorrowful tone?

 

“He wasn't you.”

 

Ichigo's mouth dropped open as Yoruichi got all teary-eyed, sniffing dramatically and wiping at pretend tears on her face. She sighed with a girlish romantic headshake and clutched onto Ichigo's arm, still avidly watching the plot unfold. He didn't want to look, but some cruel fate out there dictated that he couldn't tear his eyes away.

 

There were hearts in Goat-Face's eyes. Honest to Kami-sama, bright red and sparkly, fluttery hearts that he usually reserved for his mother's pictures. Seconds later, the boat rocked violently as Isshin threw himself at his companion and promptly locked their lips together. Urahara's hat was knocked away and nearly drowned, only save by Yoruichi when she plucked it delicately from the air and jauntily stuck it on the head.

 

Ichigo watched with a sort of morbid fascination that quickly became horror as two men he never wanted to see even touch began to make out right there in front of him. And one was his father, his flesh and blood, Goat-Face. And wow, he did not need to see Isshin's hand going there.

 

Ichigo sunk down low in his seat, covering his face with his hands and attempting to block out the noise by singing show tunes in his head. He felt trapped with no place to run. He even debated on whether he would rather get wet or continue subjecting himself to this display. The sounds of kissing and groping and moaning kept floating to his ears, and he knew that he would be scarred for life.

 

He never heard a happier sound than when the boat finally struck dock. He was out of the boat faster than he could yell “Bankai!”, constantly rubbing at his eyes and wondering why the visions just wouldn't go away.

 

Yoruichi hopped out after him since it seemed the other two weren't finishing anytime soon. She promptly latched onto his arm, claiming something about being hungry, but he wasn't listening, too busy dazedly walking in a stupor. He mumbled under his breath, a very unfavorable compliment to a certain matchmaker. He vowed that she would pay.

 

And somewhere in Karakura, Kuchiki Rukia felt a cold wind brush across the back of her neck and shuddered, wondering if now was the perfect time to run.

 

- - - - -