[Bleach] Examples of False Perfection - Isshin/Urahara
Title: Examples of False Perfection
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairings: Isshin/Urahara
Notes: This is pretty much for
shiny_glor_chan ~ It’s also a speed fic because I was lacking any real way to start it so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone like this. Prompt was “closer to ideal”. I-I know I failed at writing what you wanted, but … I hope you still like it? (And yes, will check for errors and whatnot tomorrow, too tired now - sleep time soon.)
There is no such thing as a perfect human being.
No such thing exists. Because if such a being were to exist … it really wouldn’t even be a human being. Humans, primitive animals at heart, are nothing like other species. They believe they are superior when they are not. They believe they are wounded when they have so much to live for, so much so that they could still carry on.
Although … when such matters are accepted and realized, things become a bit more interesting in the scientific world that humans have cultivated as of now. Urahara Kisuke, while not exactly a ‘human’, is more or less exactly that. Both a scientist and a human being - one that is not perfect. When two constants such as those coincide together, the potential for new discoveries is limitless. He starts off his career in the twelfth division by rearranging and making things more to his liking, preferring even to have a more suitable personal room for his lifestyle choices when compared to the previous captain’s more prim and proper and oh-so-boringly bland one. It had been a good enough room for living in, but not for his projects that would soon come to pass.
Things go good for a while, they always do. It’s when you think you’ve won and settled into a routine that a disaster will strike and take everything away from you. Humans are not meant to have things last forever. It starts out simply enough, a few bumps in the road that are easily avoided through clever manipulation and tactics - but all the cleverness in the world isn’t enough, can never be enough. Especially when those things called emotions get involved. They’re troublesome, those emotions. They are the root of the problem of why humans can never surpass what they are and find that sought after perfection.
He hasn’t felt this way about anyone before - that’s all he can think as he watches one of his fellow captains with nothing short of fascinated awe. It isn’t healthy, nor is it permitted while he’s still testing out the Hougyoku. For, if nothing else, he needs all of his concentration to be on just that one thing and that one thing alone.
However, his eyes have different plans, straying back to the captain who has by now taken a seat at the front of the bar. He shouldn’t even be here, he realizes, he should be back in his lab - his comfy little home-sweet-home lab - where he belongs. Not here of all places, following this man around like a long-lost puppy of some sort. He’s jerked out of his condescending thoughts as a loud, boisterous laugh sounds from the man ordering himself a round of drinks, along with the person accompanying him - some roughed up looking guy that Kisuke barely notices, too busy taking in the form of his current obsession. And obsession is the right word - because it is nothing else, can’t be anything else.
With something bordering on resolve - because this strange obsession needed to come to some sort of an end - he stood up from his seat near a secluded corner, half-hidden shadow. It’s not quite resolve because he has nothing to resolve to accomplish. He only stands to bring about the means to an end, step by step approaching the one man that seems to have caught his eye and made him more distracted than he’s ever been.
This obsession was nothing new; he had even had it back when he was a third seat under Yoruichi.
But now, being a captain as he is now, it’s hard to hide the infatuation. It’s harder than ever to make it less prominent to those around him. Because of that promotion of his … he’s been around this man constantly. There are proper regulations to follow, after all, and he needs the captain’s consent to borrow men from his division if so needed. He is required, due to the mandatory statement that all captains must be present, to see this man at meetings that involve the Gotei 13 and its future. And even after those meetings are over with … he can’t stop himself from struggling to keep conversation going, needing to feel important to someone who could never possibly feel the same.
He falters in his last step, which would have placed him directly beside the captain in question - and that small falter starts a chain of events he would have never foresaw, not as his eyes go wide as he loses his balance all together, not as he stumbles and bumps into the man he’s determined to confront, and most certainly not as he panics to explain himself.
“I’m sorry! Sorry, sorry, soooorry! How clumsy of me. And here you just were, drinking your … whatever you were drinking and I just so rudely bumped into you and now it’s all over you and here, let me help clean you up …” And he finally trails off from his rambling with red stained cheeks, reaching for napkins to start the mentioned cleaning up process and hoping to somehow be useful.
He doesn’t expect there to suddenly be arms around his waist nor someone dragging him into a lap, practically making him sit there and - it must be said - making him appear rather foolish to the spectators in the bar who seem all too amused by this stranger than strange situation. A breathy chuckle’s in his ear almost as suddenly as those arms around his waist and he fights back a shiver that would probably give his objective for the night away. It doesn’t help much that the back half of his yukuta - for he’s dressed in normal, relaxed attire for once (instead of acting the fancy role of captain) - is more or less getting soaked through with that liquor drenching the front of the other man’s own casual attire.
“You’re … Kisuke-kun, right?” There’s a drunken slur to that voice, distinctive and out of place. Kisuke had been watching him … and the man couldn’t have possibly had more than two drinks. But the tale-telling stench of alcohol on the captain’s breath pretty much told him there had been a lot more drinking before arriving at this particular bar - one Kisuke knew he frequented quite often in the late evening like now. “Mmm, you’re kinda cuter than Yoruichi always said you were, y’know?”
“W-What?” He doesn’t understand why the word doesn’t come out right. He’s never stumbled over himself like this before. This man, this person, he’s already a weakness that Kisuke can’t see for fear of looking too deeply into his distorted pathways of what would be called tangled emotions.
“Y’heard me.” A nose is rubbed up against the side of his neck and Kisuke stiffens on contact, instinctively closing himself off to this affection. Because even if he’s been wanting something like this to happen, something this whimsically unrealistic, he doesn’t think getting it from a drunk man is going to do any good. This perfect scenario isn’t near as perfect as it would have one believe. It almost hurts to know that when morning comes, if he gives in and takes advantage of this, he’ll feel worse than Isshin would ever feel.
But for some reason, he does it any way. The start of a long road to nothing less than hell, paved with every sin he’ll ever make and every breath he’ll ever take.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairings: Isshin/Urahara
Notes: This is pretty much for
shiny_glor_chan ~ It’s also a speed fic because I was lacking any real way to start it so I figured I could kill two birds with one stone like this. Prompt was “closer to ideal”. I-I know I failed at writing what you wanted, but … I hope you still like it? (And yes, will check for errors and whatnot tomorrow, too tired now - sleep time soon.)
There is no such thing as a perfect human being.
No such thing exists. Because if such a being were to exist … it really wouldn’t even be a human being. Humans, primitive animals at heart, are nothing like other species. They believe they are superior when they are not. They believe they are wounded when they have so much to live for, so much so that they could still carry on.
Although … when such matters are accepted and realized, things become a bit more interesting in the scientific world that humans have cultivated as of now. Urahara Kisuke, while not exactly a ‘human’, is more or less exactly that. Both a scientist and a human being - one that is not perfect. When two constants such as those coincide together, the potential for new discoveries is limitless. He starts off his career in the twelfth division by rearranging and making things more to his liking, preferring even to have a more suitable personal room for his lifestyle choices when compared to the previous captain’s more prim and proper and oh-so-boringly bland one. It had been a good enough room for living in, but not for his projects that would soon come to pass.
Things go good for a while, they always do. It’s when you think you’ve won and settled into a routine that a disaster will strike and take everything away from you. Humans are not meant to have things last forever. It starts out simply enough, a few bumps in the road that are easily avoided through clever manipulation and tactics - but all the cleverness in the world isn’t enough, can never be enough. Especially when those things called emotions get involved. They’re troublesome, those emotions. They are the root of the problem of why humans can never surpass what they are and find that sought after perfection.
He hasn’t felt this way about anyone before - that’s all he can think as he watches one of his fellow captains with nothing short of fascinated awe. It isn’t healthy, nor is it permitted while he’s still testing out the Hougyoku. For, if nothing else, he needs all of his concentration to be on just that one thing and that one thing alone.
However, his eyes have different plans, straying back to the captain who has by now taken a seat at the front of the bar. He shouldn’t even be here, he realizes, he should be back in his lab - his comfy little home-sweet-home lab - where he belongs. Not here of all places, following this man around like a long-lost puppy of some sort. He’s jerked out of his condescending thoughts as a loud, boisterous laugh sounds from the man ordering himself a round of drinks, along with the person accompanying him - some roughed up looking guy that Kisuke barely notices, too busy taking in the form of his current obsession. And obsession is the right word - because it is nothing else, can’t be anything else.
With something bordering on resolve - because this strange obsession needed to come to some sort of an end - he stood up from his seat near a secluded corner, half-hidden shadow. It’s not quite resolve because he has nothing to resolve to accomplish. He only stands to bring about the means to an end, step by step approaching the one man that seems to have caught his eye and made him more distracted than he’s ever been.
This obsession was nothing new; he had even had it back when he was a third seat under Yoruichi.
But now, being a captain as he is now, it’s hard to hide the infatuation. It’s harder than ever to make it less prominent to those around him. Because of that promotion of his … he’s been around this man constantly. There are proper regulations to follow, after all, and he needs the captain’s consent to borrow men from his division if so needed. He is required, due to the mandatory statement that all captains must be present, to see this man at meetings that involve the Gotei 13 and its future. And even after those meetings are over with … he can’t stop himself from struggling to keep conversation going, needing to feel important to someone who could never possibly feel the same.
He falters in his last step, which would have placed him directly beside the captain in question - and that small falter starts a chain of events he would have never foresaw, not as his eyes go wide as he loses his balance all together, not as he stumbles and bumps into the man he’s determined to confront, and most certainly not as he panics to explain himself.
“I’m sorry! Sorry, sorry, soooorry! How clumsy of me. And here you just were, drinking your … whatever you were drinking and I just so rudely bumped into you and now it’s all over you and here, let me help clean you up …” And he finally trails off from his rambling with red stained cheeks, reaching for napkins to start the mentioned cleaning up process and hoping to somehow be useful.
He doesn’t expect there to suddenly be arms around his waist nor someone dragging him into a lap, practically making him sit there and - it must be said - making him appear rather foolish to the spectators in the bar who seem all too amused by this stranger than strange situation. A breathy chuckle’s in his ear almost as suddenly as those arms around his waist and he fights back a shiver that would probably give his objective for the night away. It doesn’t help much that the back half of his yukuta - for he’s dressed in normal, relaxed attire for once (instead of acting the fancy role of captain) - is more or less getting soaked through with that liquor drenching the front of the other man’s own casual attire.
“You’re … Kisuke-kun, right?” There’s a drunken slur to that voice, distinctive and out of place. Kisuke had been watching him … and the man couldn’t have possibly had more than two drinks. But the tale-telling stench of alcohol on the captain’s breath pretty much told him there had been a lot more drinking before arriving at this particular bar - one Kisuke knew he frequented quite often in the late evening like now. “Mmm, you’re kinda cuter than Yoruichi always said you were, y’know?”
“W-What?” He doesn’t understand why the word doesn’t come out right. He’s never stumbled over himself like this before. This man, this person, he’s already a weakness that Kisuke can’t see for fear of looking too deeply into his distorted pathways of what would be called tangled emotions.
“Y’heard me.” A nose is rubbed up against the side of his neck and Kisuke stiffens on contact, instinctively closing himself off to this affection. Because even if he’s been wanting something like this to happen, something this whimsically unrealistic, he doesn’t think getting it from a drunk man is going to do any good. This perfect scenario isn’t near as perfect as it would have one believe. It almost hurts to know that when morning comes, if he gives in and takes advantage of this, he’ll feel worse than Isshin would ever feel.
But for some reason, he does it any way. The start of a long road to nothing less than hell, paved with every sin he’ll ever make and every breath he’ll ever take.