UraIshi AU Ch. 16
Title: Unravelling Threads of Fate
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: UraIshi
Summary: AU. Ishida has had a hard life. With the help of some friends, it finally looks like things are going to work out. When he meets a bizarre and cheerful man named Urahara Kisuke, the two are inexplicably drawn to each other. But when Ishida discovers the truth about Urahara's past and its ties to his own, difficulties arise.
Notes: I keep on forgetting to thank kirstian for her quick beta-read every time. XD You rock.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the genius KT. ♥
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15
Ishida closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the wind buffet him slightly as he gripped the balcony railing. The sun had set an hour or so ago, marked by a drop in the temperature, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that his skin felt like ice or that every breath of cold air burned its way into his lungs - he needed anything to distract him from the events that afternoon.
Especially the man who had appeared pleading for help so desperately.
It disturbed him more than anything he could remember. From the grin Mayuri had given him, he knew that the man was not naturally ill - and he was not ill by choice, either.
The entire ride back to the hotel he had clutched his hands together, oblivious to Nemu who had sat beside him. Ishida had finally snapped out it when they had arrived and politely told the young woman that he hoped she was okay, remembering how badly she had been hit. Nemu had blinked at him for a moment before nodding slightly. She had thanked him, said goodbye and then was gone.
The city lights were bright and cheerful as he opened his eyes to stare down at them. Strings of coloured bulbs decorated trees and buildings, signalling the Christmas season. Ishida considered this and remembered that Urahara’s birthday would be soon after. He’d have to figure out what to do for presents soon - Christmas was only a week away and he’d been so busy that he hadn’t thought about it.
While pondering potential gifts, Ishida heard the door open behind him.
“Uryuu, you’re going to get sick.”
Turning, he smiled half-heartedly at Urahara who had planted a hand atop his hat to keep it in place. Another gust of wind blew around them and the man made an exasperated expression before giving up and tossing the hat inside. Closing the door behind him, he stepped up to the railing beside Ishida.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Just thinking,” Ishida replied. Even after telling himself that lying to Urahara had been done for a reason, it still bothered him. Roughly shoving away the guilt, he twisted back around to watch the cars travel through the streets.
Arms wrapped around him and his skin burned where heat pressed through fabric. “Thinking about what?”
“Nothing important.” He paused and felt a real smile creep onto his face. “Except maybe what I’m going to give you for Christmas.”
“Ah? Which is?”
“I’m not telling you!”
“You’re so mean~!” Urahara whined in a childish tone. Ishida could practically hear the pout that was sure to be on his face. He laughed a little and felt the arms slide away. The door clicked open and a hand was offered to him. “It’s cold out; come back inside.”
Taking the hand, Ishida let himself be pulled into the warm room. Perhaps things would be better now. Mayuri was gone and they didn’t have to worry about him anymore.
~~~
“Merry Chriiistmas!” Isshin called out loudly as he threw open the door to the house.
It was Christmas Eve and Isshin had insisted that they all come over for dinner. Ichigo, Rukia and Orihime already waited inside as they had gone over that morning; Urahara and Ishida were the last to arrive. Yoruichi had also been invited but had gone home for Christmas with her family - Ishida couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.
There was anxiety about another matter though, for Isshin was swaying in the doorway, a cup of eggnog clutched in his hand.
“Isshin, are you drunk already?” Urahara asked, his lips twitching into a smile.
“Me? Of course not!” the doctor replied with a snort and started gesturing his empty hand wildly at them to enter. “Now come right in!”
Isshin led them into the living room and announced their presence at full volume. Ishida spotted Yuzu’s head poking out of the kitchen with a frown and watched her rush over to snatch the eggnog out of her father’s hand.
“You said you wouldn’t touch that until after dinner!”
“But I’m the one that made it!” he replied, his mouth twisting to mimic his daughter’s. “Daddy’s eggnog is the best!”
“It’s also the only kind that contains 70 percent alcohol,” Karin remarked from her spot on the couch.
Suddenly, there was a yelp and a cloud of white flour drifted out of the kitchen. Ichigo, who sat beside his little sister, snickered and leaned forward. “Oi, Rukia! How’s that cake going?”
“Shut up!” was the only response as Yuzu hurried back into the kitchen to see what had happened. Isshin trailed after her since she still held his eggnog.
“Ah, Inoue-san! I don’t think putting jam in the mashed potatoes is a good idea,” Yuzu’s voice called out. “And - step away from the eggnog, Dad!”
Ishida and Urahara sent each other a glance as the sudden chaos settled down into noises from the kitchen and the murmur of the television. Both breaking into a smile, they made their way into the living room.
“Merry Christmas, Kurosaki,” Ishida said before abruptly turning his head to sneeze.
“Oh, yeah, Merry Christmas. What, are you sick?”
Urahara grinned smugly. “I do believe he caught the flu.”
“I’m fine. I’m just a little… congested,” Ishida noted sullenly. “Okay fine! Yes, you were right; I got sick.”
The older man pat him on the head with a smile. “You see? Telling the truth isn’t that bad.”
A troubled look passed over Ishida’s face but luckily no one seemed to notice.
Dinner ended up being a success despite the cooking troubles. The conversation around the table was cheerful and full of laughter as dishes were passed around. Orihime’s potatoes were edible since they had been saved from a bath in jam. Rukia’s cake also turned out remarkably well and she sent a triumphant smirk in Ichigo’s direction. Isshin challenged Urahara to another drinking contest but he politely declined, saying he wanted to be able to drive home as well as not waking up with the desire to spend the rest of the day on the bathroom floor.
It was late by the time the dishes had been cleared and everyone felt settled. Isshin snored on the ground, having passed out from consuming nearly all of the eggnog by himself. After a few quiet goodbyes, Urahara and Ishida let themselves out and drove back to the hotel. Midnight had passed when they stepped into the suite and Urahara reached out to grab Ishida’s hand gently.
“It’s Christmas Day, Uryuu,” he noted softly with a smile. “Do you want your present now?”
Ishida felt himself smile back. “If I get mine, then you should receive yours as well.”
Going into the bedroom closet, he groped for the package hidden at the back. Holding it up to his chest, he shuffled out into the living room - he hadn’t felt shy like this since the first few months with Urahara.
“It’s not much but… I thought you might like it.”
Accepting the package offered to him, Urahara slit open the tape and unwrapped the paper. A package of sketching pencils and a leather-bound sketchbook tumbled into his lap.
“I remember you said you liked drawing. And you’re really quite good,” Ishida murmured, twisting his hands together nervously. “I had your name embossed on the cover and those pencils are my favourite to work with.”
“It’s lovely! I don’t think I’ve ever had my own sketchbook before.”
“And… I hoped that you would have a lot of reasons to draw now.”
Smiling, Urahara stood and said gently, “I’m sure I will.”
His tone was so sincere that Ishida felt his heart twist. This wasn’t right, not when he was lying to him.
Urahara leaned forward only to have Ishida back away slightly. At his confused frown, the boy sent him a slightly anxious, apologetic smile.
“I… I’m sick, remember? I’d hate it if you caught it from me.”
“Ah, yes. But this should be fine,” Urahara noted as he kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Uryuu.” Reaching into his pocket, he removed a small box and held it out. “Now it’s your turn.”
Eyeing the box, Ishida glanced back up at him. “It’s not another studio, is it?”
Urahara laughed a little and shook his head. Shrugging, Ishida reached out to take the box and opened it. He almost dropped it in shock. On a bed of cotton sat a delicate looking silver bracelet with a charm attached to it: a small silver cross. He recognized this bracelet. When he was very young, his grandfather had shown it to him, had promised to give it to him when he was older. Then the virus had spread and had torn all of that away.
“I never thought I would see this again,” Ishida whispered. “Where did you get this?”
“The property of the town where your family used to live was put under the government’s control after what happened. They auctioned off most of the possessions but a few were never sold and simply kept in storage until a later date. I was perusing the local auction lists when I came across that bracelet.” Urahara paused with a small smile. “I thought you would like to have something that was a part of your town.”
“It used to be my grandfather’s…” Ishida said softly. “Kisuke, you have no idea how much - I mean, I feel like my gift isn’t nearly enough…”
“No, don’t say that. The fact that it means so much to you is more than enough.”
When Urahara smiled at him then, Ishida felt his heart would break from the knowledge that he had lied to the man and still carried that lie.
~~~
Ishida fidgeted uneasily, fingers tangling in the bracelet on his wrist as he and Urahara sat in front of the flat screen television, watching the news report on the beginning of the New Year’s celebrations. It was also Urahara’s birthday.
He had tried to insist that they go out somewhere to celebrate with it being an important day and all but Urahara had refused, stating that he was perfectly happy to spend his birthday in the penthouse instead. On a gentler note, he had added that he didn’t want him to get any sicker wandering around in the cold.
The sniffles that had shown up the week before had grown into what felt like a full-blown flu, leaving him aching and feeling rather miserable. Recently, Ishida had starting coughing - probably due to breathing through his mouth the entire night, courtesy of his stuffy nose.
On one hand, he had felt a little bad that Urahara’s birthday would end up being so uneventful but grateful since if they had gone out, he probably wouldn’t have been much fun anyway. On the other hand, beneath that regret and gratitude was a pit of guilt that had been eating away at his conscience and had grown drastically since Christmas.
Guilt that was on the verge of making him crack if he had to spend one more minute sitting beside the cheerful blond, acting like he wasn’t hiding something important. And it was important, wasn’t it? Meeting Urahara’s former vice-president, the one who had practically ruined both of their lives with a simple virus, was something rather notable. Dinner was a welcome distraction for Ishida, letting him ignore the secret he’d been keeping for just a little longer. He had planned to tell Urahara everything that evening - a clean start to the new year - but he needed more time to sort out how he would explain things instead of having everything spill out in a rush.
Time was against him.
Ishida felt his throat begin to itch and coughed in reaction, attempting to get rid of the irritation.
“Uryuu? Is something wrong?”
Ishida almost flinched at the concern weaving through the voice. It was horrible. He was horrible. Blowing up at Urahara the month before for keeping secrets and now what was he doing?
“Um, what?”
Urahara leaned over to peer up at his face. “You don’t look too good. Do you want to lie down?”
“I-maybe-I don’t… no.” The dark-haired boy abruptly stood up and began pacing, vaguely noting a feeling of vertigo but ignoring it. “Kisuke, I need… I need to tell you something because I want us to start the new year without secrets or lies.”
“Oh, let me guess,” Urahara forced a small grin in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that was rapidly filling the room, “you’ve been sleeping with someone else? That’s fine, they can join us!”
When Ishida only gave him a solemn look, the grin disappeared. No, this wasn’t the time for jokes; this was something serious.
“What is it?”
"A few weeks ago, I told you I had to go meet a designer Rukia had introduced me to." Ishida shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn't look at him. He couldn't bear to see what kind of expression would settle onto Urahara's face. "That was a lie. That wasn't where I went."
When there was no response from Urahara, he took it as a cue to continue.
"I... I went to meet with Kurotsuchi Mayuri."
The silence was stifling, pressing down on him, threatening to bury him until he couldn't breathe.
"... I see."
It was like a moment of déjà vu. Ishida could remember speaking similar words, hearing the same response; only this time, he was the one to blame. This time he could only hope that Urahara wouldn't react like he had - hope he would have a chance to explain himself.
Urahara calmly got to his feet, walking quietly over to the remains of their dinner and picking up his half-empty glass of wine. He sipped it before setting it down, resting his hands against the table edge.
Opening his eyes as the silence stretched on, Ishida bit his lip at Urahara's stance - he looked as if he needed the table to remain standing. "I received an invitation to go meet with him. Please understand this was something I had to do. For myself."
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The older man’s tone was neutral, hiding whatever he might have been feeling. It was surreal, the change in voice nearly making him unrecognizable.
Ishida inhaled sharply and stumbled slightly backward against the arm of the couch. At that moment, he realized that he didn’t know this Urahara Kisuke. His eyes were completely hidden in shadow, his face was expressionless, his voice was emotionless - he never knew Urahara could be this distant, this cold. And it pained him to know that he was the cause.
“I didn’t think you would let me go.”
“I would have gone with you.”
Ishida gave him a helpless look. “That was the other reason why I didn’t say anything.”
“Why? Do you trust me so little now?”
“What are you talking about?” Ishida asked, confusion filling his face. “I trust you more than anyone.”
“Ah, but do you really? I must say that ever since you supposedly forgave me, our relationship has been significantly different from before.”
“But I asked you if we should just forget about it and you said-” He stopped and frowned. “Wait, ‘supposedly’ forgiving you? I did forgive you! You didn’t believe me?”
“I’m not a fool, Uryuu,” Urahara murmured, frozen in his position by the table. “You said the words but did you mean them? There’s a world of a difference between those two things.”
Anger flashed across Ishida’s features as he took a firm step forward. “Of course I meant them!”
“Then why have you been so distant since that day? Why not even one kiss?” Frustration was overpowering the cool demeanor Urahara projected, the strain audible in his words. “And again, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know!” Ishida burst out. His head was starting to pound, his senses were dulled from the illness, and his nerves were frayed. He wasn’t prepared nearly enough for an argument; especially against Urahara. He would later blame these things for what he said next. “Besides, why should I have to tell you where I go all the time? I can take care of myself,” he snapped.
“Really?”
“Yes - I was fine before I met you. Before you, I didn’t have to worry about the people I met with or worry about my own heart breaking. I’d have probably been better off without you.”
Ishida’s mouth pressed closed abruptly and his eyes widened in horror as the words replayed through his head.
Wait, no… that’s not what I meant.
Urahara’s eyes slowly lifted to gaze at him calmly. “So that’s how you really feel.”
“No, Kisuke, wait, I didn’t mean it…”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t have bothered to fix this relationship the last time then.”
“Kisuke, don’t-” Ishida broke off into a fit of coughing, bending over from the force of them.
… don’t leave me.
“Perhaps you’re happier being on your own.”
No, I don’t want to be alone.
“If there’s one thing I want to know, it’s why you went. Is it because you wanted to make sure Mayuri’s past actions had been done without my knowledge? To make sure I wasn’t lying to you again?”
“No!” Ishida gasped out, clutching at the front of his shirt. It was so hard to breathe.
“Then why?”
“Because I-” He started coughing again. His throat felt like it was being torn raw.
… because I love you! I had to face the man who ruined both of our lives. I wanted to protect you for once.
Ishida felt his knees hit the soft carpet as his muscles strained against every cough. His chest hurt, his entire body hurt - what was going on? Why was it so hard to breathe?
“… Uryuu?” Urahara’s voice drifted over to him through the haze of pain but he couldn’t answer.
A tense silence settled over the pair as the coughing abruptly subsided with a sharp gasp for air. Ishida took away the hand he had been using to cover his mouth and stared at it, barely noticing when Urahara took a step closer.
Red. Bright red. Smears and beads of bright red a stark contrast against pale skin.
Just as quickly as the coughing had stopped it retuned with twice the force, sending Ishida tumbling onto his shoulder. Blood began to cover the carpet near his head with every cough, soaking into the threads like spilled wine. He felt Urahara drop to his side in the next instant, fingers fluttering over his throat, his chest, trying to find out what was wrong, damnit, what was wrong?
“Uryuu!”
Ishida could hear the three monotone beeps of a cell phone while an arm reached out to curl around him as if trying to forcefully stop the coughing.
“Yes, we need an ambulance. I have a 21-year old male displaying a severe case of haemoptysis. We’re located at…”
Everything began to fade in and out of focus so much that he almost didn’t realize that Urahara was now bracing him in his lap, the phone discarded to the side.
Kisuke… I’m sorry.
"Uryuu! Stay with me, an ambulance is coming."
I'm sorry…
"Stay with me, Uryuu!"
It was dark, so dark.
I love you…
A/N: Holy crap, look at that. I do believe this is the first time I've done an update within a week ever since... Ch. 8 it seems. I can attribute this to the fact that I had 5 pages of this already written ever since Ch. 13 or something. XD
Anyway, um. Don't expect another update as fast as this one. LOL And don't kill me for the cliffhanger. *flees*
To Chapter 17
X-posted places
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: UraIshi
Summary: AU. Ishida has had a hard life. With the help of some friends, it finally looks like things are going to work out. When he meets a bizarre and cheerful man named Urahara Kisuke, the two are inexplicably drawn to each other. But when Ishida discovers the truth about Urahara's past and its ties to his own, difficulties arise.
Notes: I keep on forgetting to thank kirstian for her quick beta-read every time. XD You rock.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the genius KT. ♥
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15
Ishida closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the wind buffet him slightly as he gripped the balcony railing. The sun had set an hour or so ago, marked by a drop in the temperature, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care that his skin felt like ice or that every breath of cold air burned its way into his lungs - he needed anything to distract him from the events that afternoon.
Especially the man who had appeared pleading for help so desperately.
It disturbed him more than anything he could remember. From the grin Mayuri had given him, he knew that the man was not naturally ill - and he was not ill by choice, either.
The entire ride back to the hotel he had clutched his hands together, oblivious to Nemu who had sat beside him. Ishida had finally snapped out it when they had arrived and politely told the young woman that he hoped she was okay, remembering how badly she had been hit. Nemu had blinked at him for a moment before nodding slightly. She had thanked him, said goodbye and then was gone.
The city lights were bright and cheerful as he opened his eyes to stare down at them. Strings of coloured bulbs decorated trees and buildings, signalling the Christmas season. Ishida considered this and remembered that Urahara’s birthday would be soon after. He’d have to figure out what to do for presents soon - Christmas was only a week away and he’d been so busy that he hadn’t thought about it.
While pondering potential gifts, Ishida heard the door open behind him.
“Uryuu, you’re going to get sick.”
Turning, he smiled half-heartedly at Urahara who had planted a hand atop his hat to keep it in place. Another gust of wind blew around them and the man made an exasperated expression before giving up and tossing the hat inside. Closing the door behind him, he stepped up to the railing beside Ishida.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Just thinking,” Ishida replied. Even after telling himself that lying to Urahara had been done for a reason, it still bothered him. Roughly shoving away the guilt, he twisted back around to watch the cars travel through the streets.
Arms wrapped around him and his skin burned where heat pressed through fabric. “Thinking about what?”
“Nothing important.” He paused and felt a real smile creep onto his face. “Except maybe what I’m going to give you for Christmas.”
“Ah? Which is?”
“I’m not telling you!”
“You’re so mean~!” Urahara whined in a childish tone. Ishida could practically hear the pout that was sure to be on his face. He laughed a little and felt the arms slide away. The door clicked open and a hand was offered to him. “It’s cold out; come back inside.”
Taking the hand, Ishida let himself be pulled into the warm room. Perhaps things would be better now. Mayuri was gone and they didn’t have to worry about him anymore.
~~~
“Merry Chriiistmas!” Isshin called out loudly as he threw open the door to the house.
It was Christmas Eve and Isshin had insisted that they all come over for dinner. Ichigo, Rukia and Orihime already waited inside as they had gone over that morning; Urahara and Ishida were the last to arrive. Yoruichi had also been invited but had gone home for Christmas with her family - Ishida couldn’t help but feel a little relieved.
There was anxiety about another matter though, for Isshin was swaying in the doorway, a cup of eggnog clutched in his hand.
“Isshin, are you drunk already?” Urahara asked, his lips twitching into a smile.
“Me? Of course not!” the doctor replied with a snort and started gesturing his empty hand wildly at them to enter. “Now come right in!”
Isshin led them into the living room and announced their presence at full volume. Ishida spotted Yuzu’s head poking out of the kitchen with a frown and watched her rush over to snatch the eggnog out of her father’s hand.
“You said you wouldn’t touch that until after dinner!”
“But I’m the one that made it!” he replied, his mouth twisting to mimic his daughter’s. “Daddy’s eggnog is the best!”
“It’s also the only kind that contains 70 percent alcohol,” Karin remarked from her spot on the couch.
Suddenly, there was a yelp and a cloud of white flour drifted out of the kitchen. Ichigo, who sat beside his little sister, snickered and leaned forward. “Oi, Rukia! How’s that cake going?”
“Shut up!” was the only response as Yuzu hurried back into the kitchen to see what had happened. Isshin trailed after her since she still held his eggnog.
“Ah, Inoue-san! I don’t think putting jam in the mashed potatoes is a good idea,” Yuzu’s voice called out. “And - step away from the eggnog, Dad!”
Ishida and Urahara sent each other a glance as the sudden chaos settled down into noises from the kitchen and the murmur of the television. Both breaking into a smile, they made their way into the living room.
“Merry Christmas, Kurosaki,” Ishida said before abruptly turning his head to sneeze.
“Oh, yeah, Merry Christmas. What, are you sick?”
Urahara grinned smugly. “I do believe he caught the flu.”
“I’m fine. I’m just a little… congested,” Ishida noted sullenly. “Okay fine! Yes, you were right; I got sick.”
The older man pat him on the head with a smile. “You see? Telling the truth isn’t that bad.”
A troubled look passed over Ishida’s face but luckily no one seemed to notice.
Dinner ended up being a success despite the cooking troubles. The conversation around the table was cheerful and full of laughter as dishes were passed around. Orihime’s potatoes were edible since they had been saved from a bath in jam. Rukia’s cake also turned out remarkably well and she sent a triumphant smirk in Ichigo’s direction. Isshin challenged Urahara to another drinking contest but he politely declined, saying he wanted to be able to drive home as well as not waking up with the desire to spend the rest of the day on the bathroom floor.
It was late by the time the dishes had been cleared and everyone felt settled. Isshin snored on the ground, having passed out from consuming nearly all of the eggnog by himself. After a few quiet goodbyes, Urahara and Ishida let themselves out and drove back to the hotel. Midnight had passed when they stepped into the suite and Urahara reached out to grab Ishida’s hand gently.
“It’s Christmas Day, Uryuu,” he noted softly with a smile. “Do you want your present now?”
Ishida felt himself smile back. “If I get mine, then you should receive yours as well.”
Going into the bedroom closet, he groped for the package hidden at the back. Holding it up to his chest, he shuffled out into the living room - he hadn’t felt shy like this since the first few months with Urahara.
“It’s not much but… I thought you might like it.”
Accepting the package offered to him, Urahara slit open the tape and unwrapped the paper. A package of sketching pencils and a leather-bound sketchbook tumbled into his lap.
“I remember you said you liked drawing. And you’re really quite good,” Ishida murmured, twisting his hands together nervously. “I had your name embossed on the cover and those pencils are my favourite to work with.”
“It’s lovely! I don’t think I’ve ever had my own sketchbook before.”
“And… I hoped that you would have a lot of reasons to draw now.”
Smiling, Urahara stood and said gently, “I’m sure I will.”
His tone was so sincere that Ishida felt his heart twist. This wasn’t right, not when he was lying to him.
Urahara leaned forward only to have Ishida back away slightly. At his confused frown, the boy sent him a slightly anxious, apologetic smile.
“I… I’m sick, remember? I’d hate it if you caught it from me.”
“Ah, yes. But this should be fine,” Urahara noted as he kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Uryuu.” Reaching into his pocket, he removed a small box and held it out. “Now it’s your turn.”
Eyeing the box, Ishida glanced back up at him. “It’s not another studio, is it?”
Urahara laughed a little and shook his head. Shrugging, Ishida reached out to take the box and opened it. He almost dropped it in shock. On a bed of cotton sat a delicate looking silver bracelet with a charm attached to it: a small silver cross. He recognized this bracelet. When he was very young, his grandfather had shown it to him, had promised to give it to him when he was older. Then the virus had spread and had torn all of that away.
“I never thought I would see this again,” Ishida whispered. “Where did you get this?”
“The property of the town where your family used to live was put under the government’s control after what happened. They auctioned off most of the possessions but a few were never sold and simply kept in storage until a later date. I was perusing the local auction lists when I came across that bracelet.” Urahara paused with a small smile. “I thought you would like to have something that was a part of your town.”
“It used to be my grandfather’s…” Ishida said softly. “Kisuke, you have no idea how much - I mean, I feel like my gift isn’t nearly enough…”
“No, don’t say that. The fact that it means so much to you is more than enough.”
When Urahara smiled at him then, Ishida felt his heart would break from the knowledge that he had lied to the man and still carried that lie.
~~~
Ishida fidgeted uneasily, fingers tangling in the bracelet on his wrist as he and Urahara sat in front of the flat screen television, watching the news report on the beginning of the New Year’s celebrations. It was also Urahara’s birthday.
He had tried to insist that they go out somewhere to celebrate with it being an important day and all but Urahara had refused, stating that he was perfectly happy to spend his birthday in the penthouse instead. On a gentler note, he had added that he didn’t want him to get any sicker wandering around in the cold.
The sniffles that had shown up the week before had grown into what felt like a full-blown flu, leaving him aching and feeling rather miserable. Recently, Ishida had starting coughing - probably due to breathing through his mouth the entire night, courtesy of his stuffy nose.
On one hand, he had felt a little bad that Urahara’s birthday would end up being so uneventful but grateful since if they had gone out, he probably wouldn’t have been much fun anyway. On the other hand, beneath that regret and gratitude was a pit of guilt that had been eating away at his conscience and had grown drastically since Christmas.
Guilt that was on the verge of making him crack if he had to spend one more minute sitting beside the cheerful blond, acting like he wasn’t hiding something important. And it was important, wasn’t it? Meeting Urahara’s former vice-president, the one who had practically ruined both of their lives with a simple virus, was something rather notable. Dinner was a welcome distraction for Ishida, letting him ignore the secret he’d been keeping for just a little longer. He had planned to tell Urahara everything that evening - a clean start to the new year - but he needed more time to sort out how he would explain things instead of having everything spill out in a rush.
Time was against him.
Ishida felt his throat begin to itch and coughed in reaction, attempting to get rid of the irritation.
“Uryuu? Is something wrong?”
Ishida almost flinched at the concern weaving through the voice. It was horrible. He was horrible. Blowing up at Urahara the month before for keeping secrets and now what was he doing?
“Um, what?”
Urahara leaned over to peer up at his face. “You don’t look too good. Do you want to lie down?”
“I-maybe-I don’t… no.” The dark-haired boy abruptly stood up and began pacing, vaguely noting a feeling of vertigo but ignoring it. “Kisuke, I need… I need to tell you something because I want us to start the new year without secrets or lies.”
“Oh, let me guess,” Urahara forced a small grin in an attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that was rapidly filling the room, “you’ve been sleeping with someone else? That’s fine, they can join us!”
When Ishida only gave him a solemn look, the grin disappeared. No, this wasn’t the time for jokes; this was something serious.
“What is it?”
"A few weeks ago, I told you I had to go meet a designer Rukia had introduced me to." Ishida shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn't look at him. He couldn't bear to see what kind of expression would settle onto Urahara's face. "That was a lie. That wasn't where I went."
When there was no response from Urahara, he took it as a cue to continue.
"I... I went to meet with Kurotsuchi Mayuri."
The silence was stifling, pressing down on him, threatening to bury him until he couldn't breathe.
"... I see."
It was like a moment of déjà vu. Ishida could remember speaking similar words, hearing the same response; only this time, he was the one to blame. This time he could only hope that Urahara wouldn't react like he had - hope he would have a chance to explain himself.
Urahara calmly got to his feet, walking quietly over to the remains of their dinner and picking up his half-empty glass of wine. He sipped it before setting it down, resting his hands against the table edge.
Opening his eyes as the silence stretched on, Ishida bit his lip at Urahara's stance - he looked as if he needed the table to remain standing. "I received an invitation to go meet with him. Please understand this was something I had to do. For myself."
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The older man’s tone was neutral, hiding whatever he might have been feeling. It was surreal, the change in voice nearly making him unrecognizable.
Ishida inhaled sharply and stumbled slightly backward against the arm of the couch. At that moment, he realized that he didn’t know this Urahara Kisuke. His eyes were completely hidden in shadow, his face was expressionless, his voice was emotionless - he never knew Urahara could be this distant, this cold. And it pained him to know that he was the cause.
“I didn’t think you would let me go.”
“I would have gone with you.”
Ishida gave him a helpless look. “That was the other reason why I didn’t say anything.”
“Why? Do you trust me so little now?”
“What are you talking about?” Ishida asked, confusion filling his face. “I trust you more than anyone.”
“Ah, but do you really? I must say that ever since you supposedly forgave me, our relationship has been significantly different from before.”
“But I asked you if we should just forget about it and you said-” He stopped and frowned. “Wait, ‘supposedly’ forgiving you? I did forgive you! You didn’t believe me?”
“I’m not a fool, Uryuu,” Urahara murmured, frozen in his position by the table. “You said the words but did you mean them? There’s a world of a difference between those two things.”
Anger flashed across Ishida’s features as he took a firm step forward. “Of course I meant them!”
“Then why have you been so distant since that day? Why not even one kiss?” Frustration was overpowering the cool demeanor Urahara projected, the strain audible in his words. “And again, why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know!” Ishida burst out. His head was starting to pound, his senses were dulled from the illness, and his nerves were frayed. He wasn’t prepared nearly enough for an argument; especially against Urahara. He would later blame these things for what he said next. “Besides, why should I have to tell you where I go all the time? I can take care of myself,” he snapped.
“Really?”
“Yes - I was fine before I met you. Before you, I didn’t have to worry about the people I met with or worry about my own heart breaking. I’d have probably been better off without you.”
Ishida’s mouth pressed closed abruptly and his eyes widened in horror as the words replayed through his head.
Wait, no… that’s not what I meant.
Urahara’s eyes slowly lifted to gaze at him calmly. “So that’s how you really feel.”
“No, Kisuke, wait, I didn’t mean it…”
“Perhaps we shouldn’t have bothered to fix this relationship the last time then.”
“Kisuke, don’t-” Ishida broke off into a fit of coughing, bending over from the force of them.
… don’t leave me.
“Perhaps you’re happier being on your own.”
No, I don’t want to be alone.
“If there’s one thing I want to know, it’s why you went. Is it because you wanted to make sure Mayuri’s past actions had been done without my knowledge? To make sure I wasn’t lying to you again?”
“No!” Ishida gasped out, clutching at the front of his shirt. It was so hard to breathe.
“Then why?”
“Because I-” He started coughing again. His throat felt like it was being torn raw.
… because I love you! I had to face the man who ruined both of our lives. I wanted to protect you for once.
Ishida felt his knees hit the soft carpet as his muscles strained against every cough. His chest hurt, his entire body hurt - what was going on? Why was it so hard to breathe?
“… Uryuu?” Urahara’s voice drifted over to him through the haze of pain but he couldn’t answer.
A tense silence settled over the pair as the coughing abruptly subsided with a sharp gasp for air. Ishida took away the hand he had been using to cover his mouth and stared at it, barely noticing when Urahara took a step closer.
Red. Bright red. Smears and beads of bright red a stark contrast against pale skin.
Just as quickly as the coughing had stopped it retuned with twice the force, sending Ishida tumbling onto his shoulder. Blood began to cover the carpet near his head with every cough, soaking into the threads like spilled wine. He felt Urahara drop to his side in the next instant, fingers fluttering over his throat, his chest, trying to find out what was wrong, damnit, what was wrong?
“Uryuu!”
Ishida could hear the three monotone beeps of a cell phone while an arm reached out to curl around him as if trying to forcefully stop the coughing.
“Yes, we need an ambulance. I have a 21-year old male displaying a severe case of haemoptysis. We’re located at…”
Everything began to fade in and out of focus so much that he almost didn’t realize that Urahara was now bracing him in his lap, the phone discarded to the side.
Kisuke… I’m sorry.
"Uryuu! Stay with me, an ambulance is coming."
I'm sorry…
"Stay with me, Uryuu!"
It was dark, so dark.
I love you…
A/N: Holy crap, look at that. I do believe this is the first time I've done an update within a week ever since... Ch. 8 it seems. I can attribute this to the fact that I had 5 pages of this already written ever since Ch. 13 or something. XD
Anyway, um. Don't expect another update as fast as this one. LOL And don't kill me for the cliffhanger. *flees*
To Chapter 17
X-posted places