#bleach.

notes: there’s implied angst with reader and kisuke’s relationship. how that angst applies, I will not be elaborating just yet. i don’t want to specify if this is pre-tybw arc or post, but feel free to guess though. is this just a memory of kisuke’s or a hallucination ? anyways, enjoy the sweetness. this is the first thing that i’ve written and posted here in years, so bear with me.  i may post more character things but with my ocs...

dedication: to meena / @hellinistical​

inspiration: morning glory - oasis. ( x. )

summary: urahara may be good at a lot of things, but cooking is one area he could work on a little more. but he tries, and that should count for something, right ?

kisuke had let you slip through his fingers once before. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t (though he was lying to himself - he was too late, too slow, his fault), or at least that was what yoruichi had told him. as you might imagine, he wasn’t convinced, but he never showed it in front of you, and you never brought it up. if you were aware of the part he played in what happened to you (or the lack thereof), he wondered if you would come back to him every night and stay every morning, tending to little things around the store and working your own schedule around his and every reason he gave when he had to help ichigo or the soul society who he still cared for, though they banished him.

they might have turned their back on him, but he hadn’t turned his back on them. he had tried, for what it was worth, but he hadn’t succeeded. 

his fingers curled around the cool metal handle of the pan as he set it on the stove, careful not to rummage too loudly through the kitchen lest he risk waking you up from your slumber. last night, you hadn’t slept so well, from the moment he peeked in and checked on you until he finally stopped his work in his lab for the night and laid next to you. you tossed and turned, restless, and it wasn’t until the exhaustion swept over you that you succumbed to sleep. 

kisuke wasn’t much of a cook - that was more of tessai’s area - yet, the scientist had resorted to trying. 

for you. 

one of the most important things to him, besides his mind.

how hard could it be? it was just mixing things together - eggs, flour, sugar, milk, and butter - until it was liquid enough for him to put into the pan. he watched as the butter melted on the metal, hearing it nearly sizzle before he put the liquid onto the pan. he wanted to hurry and finish before you woke up.  though his surprises were more elaborate and dramatic, and you had long since grown used to it, he supposed this one wasn’t up to his normal mischievous deeds. 

he turned over the cooked food, tuning into the sound of your feet creeping along the floor. he could hear your hand sliding along the wall, steading yourself as you watched the blonde, still with his hat on, hum to himself as he stood over the stove. you were expecting tessai to be there, with the sweet smell that wafted through the air, but kisuke standing there was more of a pleasant surprise. 

“aha, good morning, sleepyhead.” kisuke chuckled to himself as if it were the funniest thing he could have possibly thought of. 

“good morning, kisuke,” you remark, and he turns to look over his shoulder, tipping the brim of his hat with his suddenly free hand as if he were a chivalrous cowboy. The grin on his lips is absolutely filled with his signature mischief, though his gaze only speaks of familiar fondness at the sight of you, still rubbing sleep from your eyes. he also doesn’t miss the smile that appears on your features - small, so if he blinked too soon, he might have missed it, but he didn’t. it works its way into his memories for him to store later and think of with the same fondness.   “what are you up to now?”

“making breakfast for you, y/n.” he glances back to the supposed “pancakes” though they’re flatter than he intended.  a frown forms on his lips, and he turns away from you before you see it, though you still walk over to his side. he glances out the corner of his eye, the sleeve of his haori slipping down his shoulder as you rest your cheek against his arm. “though the pancakes didn’t turn out as I planned…”

you pick up one of the “pancakes”, cooling on a plate next to the stove with a dried fork in the dish drainer, tear a piece off, and put it into your mouth. He watches expectantly, attentively seeking your reaction. 

“you can say you don’t like it.” the shop owner remarks, and you nearly laugh as if you weren’t in the midst of swallowing your food. 

“it’s definitely too flat for a pancake… but…  it’ll make a good crepe,” you decide, moving to the fridge and pulling fruit out. “I’ll wash these off,” you gesture to the bowl of berries, and then hold up the can of whipped cream, and the bottle of chocolate sauce now in your arms. “thank you,” you add.

“you’re welcome,” he says softly. kisuke’s expression hints at being awe-struck, though it fades away as he gives a little nod and goes back to humming as if there had been no interruptions. 

“keep going, kisuke,” you instruct, turning the sink on, water rushing out.

“you got it!” he chuckled to himself before he then glances over to you. “are you sure, y/n?” he asks again, his voice dropping - losing its mirth momentarily, his eyes obscured by the shadow cast by the brim of his heat. 

you chuckle, “yes, kisuke, i’m certain.”

after a moment, he flicks the knobs on the stove and turns them off, all the crepes now stacked onto a plate. His knuckles brush fondly over yours, yet you miss the look in his eyes - the way he touches you as if to make sure that you are certainly there, standing next to him. you turn your hand over and then raise your hand to lift the brim of his hat some, and he only smiles in return, raising your hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

she'd have to ask ururu or miss yoruichi the next time both of them crossed paths again.

for now, though, udyati's eyes were trained on @ichigokurosaki, as if she tried to attempt to pull his secrets out of the very core of his being through her gaze alone.

she cannot explain the way she feels so at ease with him, like they've known each other for lifetimes. perhaps, at this point, it's just innate nature to recognize those who have carried the weight of the worlds upon their shoulders the same as she has.

“I got you something,” she says, and holds out a tiny fan. “I know, it’s pink and it’s Tokyo Mew Mew themed, but it works. A young kid named Miyuki was kind enough to trade it for the last packet of spearmint gum I had in my pocket. Anywhoozies, just be glad it’s not Mermaid Melody themed. I feel like that one would’ve been more trouble than it’s worth.” 

Udyati’s been trying to figure out how exactly it all worked: a dojo underneath a shop that nice. Oh, well, maybe she could ask Ururu, she thought, spotting her new friend. Or was unblinking Ururu more of an acquaintance? No, Udyati decided in the end, she was a friend. Everyone here was friendly. Although she hadn’t met Jinta - Ururu’s brother - or Ururu’s ‘other dad’ in person yet. She couldn’t not hold this shop and the people inside it in high regard.

Some of the people she knew would tell her that it’d be much too soon for that. But if there’s one thing Udyati’s good at, it’s being an excellent judge of character. Sort of.

okay, so, maybe she hadn’t learned from the whole lollypop debacle. maybe her cotton candy heart was just too soft. or maybe mister urahara just had a tongue of silver. maybe it was all three of those things.

besides, wasn’t it kind of him to offer to help her out? wasn’t it kind of him to point out that, technically, chancing a trip to soul society and back was within her reach? all she had to do was pass through a door. and with her abilities, that should be easy enough.

it was kind of like training, in a way, wasn’t it?  and udyati did like to train.

and now that her vāc device was restored once again, language barriers shouldn’t be an issue. (it’d be awfully rude to assume that shinigami’s spoke hindi, or dutch, or english, after all! maybe they didn’t! or maybe they did! udyati had no way of knowing!)

the first person she came across was huge. he carried two twin axes, and udyati figured that her best course of action was to, you know, just introduce herself. and tell him about herself. maybe she’d make a new friend in the process!  because if she had to fight him, well, she couldn’t. and wouldn’t. and actually didn’t want to.

"---and that’s when i escaped vrushabh. i’ve not seen the two who helped me since. i can’t help but wonder, though... she hurt me, yes, but she did it for love. she did it to save her beloved husband, so can i be mad at her for that? shouldn’t i forgive her?”