#tessai

Yoruichi frowned at him from her perch near the register, long, lithe legs curled up criss-cross and getting her human feet all over the counter where customers set their candy. Poor customers. ‘I should probably wipe down the counter once and a while,’ he thought, almost missing her exasperated statement. 

"I'm not dealing with this. He's insufferable already, and then you went and got him high."

Urahara felt his face frown without permission. She was right, and he wouldn’t admit it, not because she was right, but because that meant that he, in fact, was wrong.

"You don't react that way," was the only thing his mouth could think to say, again, without the requested permission. He should look into that as well. It wasn't a strong argument; hell, it wasn’t even a good one.

"Oh so you wanted the beefy blue arrancar to rub around on you and lick your ugly face, eh? Ichigo will love to know that."

"You think he’s beefy?” Damn his mouth.

“Don’t you?”

“I do,” Tessai said from behind him. Urahara sighed, again. Tessai must’ve successfully locked the menace out for the time being. He could barely hear claws scratching at the door with the beginnings of a headache pounding away in his head.

He’d called Ichigo a few minutes ago, letting him know of a particular situation going on at the shop, but didn’t give out any details, hoping to avoid the usual conversation of exactly where the man was going to stick his foot, and how many times.

But that didn’t matter now, as the door to the outside world opened in on the shop and his Savior walked in like he wasn’t going to be getting a chest full of drugged out arrancar in approximated ten seconds.

"Yo, I got your call," Ichigo. "Whats the emerg--"

"Kurosaki!"

Ah, make that five seconds. Five and two thirds seconds, to be exact.

A rush of black and blue tore past both Tessai and himself didn’t even phase them as the nipped-out arrancar barrled straight into Ichigo’s front, sending him to the ground with all the grace of a sack of shit in a nice gift bag.

‘Ah, that reminds me. I need to get some holiday candy bags.’

Urahara stood behind his half shelf of Ramune that was four months expired, pretending to mess with the display as he watched the boys sucuffle. Well, Grimmjow scuffle and Ichigo let him, more like. Kid couldn’t tell spiritual pressure from flies, but could spot something different in this particular arrancar three and a half kilometers away blind.

Supressing a snort, Urahara watched as Grimmjow swatted at some flyaway fringe on Ichigo’s jacket, before touching said jacket, and then grabbing the shinigami-human-hollow hybrid by the shoulders and shaking him until Urahara thought he saw brains poke out his ears.

“What--stop it! What is wrong with you?” Ichigo swatted back, but only half heartedly, his hands gently looping around Grimmjow’s wrists.

"What are you doing?"

"Let's fight!"

Ichigo didn’t appear to hear him as he got a little closer to inspect the arrancar’s probably sweaty face. Who knew hollows could sweat? Urahara did now, but that wasn’t helpful to the situation, so he kept his mouth shut, thank you very much.

"Why are your pupils so dilated?"

Grimmjow, not saying much still, hair fluffed up and even more untamed than usual stood up, shaking Ichigo’s hands off him, unzipped and pushed his arms out of the top half of his jumpsuit, and sat down, socking Ichigo in the shoulder in the process, all in roughly half a second. Yoruichi whistled as he sat back down. Urahara grabbed a handful of stale Ramune candy and threw it in his mouth.

Ichigo looked fairly lost, his eyes darting to Urahara, who gave him a gummy smile. One fell out of his mouth and onto the floor, but that would be Jinta’s problem later. Ichigo rolled his eyes and focused again on the arrancar,

"Grimmjow, are you okay? Why did you take your--"

"Felt weird--fight! C'mon!"

Grimmjow tugged at the sleeve of Ichigo’s shirt, pulling the hybrid up by the arm not unlike a limp, broken noodle, and punched him in the other shoulder. Still gripping his shirt, the arrancar began to drag Ichigo to the door in the shop that went into the house, and Urahara prayed that the guy didn’t already tear apart the rest of the house in his five minute stay in there when Tessai was trying to calm him.

Shoving a hand quietly into his pocket, the shopkeeper pulled out some green stems with soft, green leaves attached and held them out to Ichigo as he was being pulled away.

“If you make him eat this, that should help him calm down.”

Ichigo shook his head and tried to stand on his own feet rather than being drug around like a flour sack.

“No way, he’s already high! Why make him worse? What is this?”

Urahara could understand the anger in the boy’s voice, he really could, be he also really, really wanted to take a nap right now. That sounded nice. Ichigo could surely take care of it.

“It should calm him down if ingested. It’s catnip.”

Grimmjow grabbed Ichigo and hoisted him up on his shoulder not unlike a lumberjack would a particularly feral log. At least, that’s what Urahara had assumed they did--the television would surely never lie. That’s what he told Grimmjow and Jinta, anyway.

Urahara opened his fan and waved at Ichigo’s disappearing form, smile forming on his face.

“I believe in you my dear Ichigo! Right my wrongs!”