Urahara Kisuke sat at his desk, hunched over a small stack of paper. There was one small desk lamp light that illuminated the dark room, as the air was filled with a sound of a small scratching pen.
It was difficult, monotonous paperwork, but it had to be done, and doing so during the night wasn't all that bad. He had a benign smile on his face as he wrote and read to his heart's content.
Suddenly, there was a small knock. Urahara looked up, a small bemused grin spread across his face, as he saw a small head poke through the sliding door.
"Urahara-taicho," a soft voice said. Oh, but how it flickered through the air, like soft silk ribbons dancing.
"Come inside, Sayomi."
Arakaki Sayomi is the third seat in his division. She was a quiet woman with dazzling eyes and an attractive, if a bit crooked, smile. Arakaki was the complete opposite of his lieutenant: Sarugaki Hiyori, a tiny and coarse loud-mouth with a fierce temper.
He sometimes wondered if they switched his third and second seat on purpose.
"Urahara-taicho," she repeated. "I have an important message from the fifth division."
His gaze drifted to her thin hand, where a scroll rested comfortably in her grip. He held out his arm and open palm nonchalantly. She stepped forward a bit shakily, and dropped the scroll into his hand.
He took the moment to look upwards at her eyes, and was surprised to see them red.
"Oh, Sayomi, why were you crying?"
"I was not crying, taicho."
In truth, this remark had hurt him more than the sight of her tearful eyes. She didn't seem to trust him, but she didn't say a thing about it. Hiyori was sure to let Urahara know her every opinion, but Sayomi kept her mouth shut.
Yet she spoke the truth, and he didn't seem to realize it. She hadn't been weeping, but instead awake for much too long. Her eyes were red of sleeplessness. The night time was the only time she could spend alone with her captain.
In a way, she admired him greatly. Earlier she had taken a better view of her heart and realized that maybe her admiration was developing into shy affection.
Naively, she didn't realize how dangerous this was.
He raised himself from his chair and placed a soft but firm grip on her shoulder. "You're welcome to stay for a while. Here, let me make you some tea.
"
Why am I trying so earnestly to earn her approval? What made her different from any of these other shinigami?
She nodded her head curtly. "Arigato gozaimasu, Urahara-taicho."
He lowered the scroll in his hand to his desk and promptly forgot about it.
The two sat side by side, instead of the traditionally across. They sipped their tea quietly, and spoke seldom.
"Sayomi. Do you trust me?"
"Hai, I trust you, Urahara-taicho," she replied, as she turned to him cheerfully.
"Then tell me what is wrong, Sayomi."
She turned away abruptly. "Nothing is wrong." He let her sit there for a while, silently. Then she took a small sip of her tea, before saying, "I just wish you'd be more...cautious."
"Cautious? How so?"
"Never mind." She then stood up and slowly brushed her shihakushÅ (shinigami uniform). "You should finish your paperwork, Urahara-taicho. I apologize for bothering you."
"It's no bother, Sayomi," he replied, rising to his feet as well. "I will see you tomorrow night?"
He leaned forward and brought his hand to her cheek, as they lips softly met and brushed against one another. He then lowered his hand and titled his head back straight, as her eyelids fluttered open.
A small smile fell upon her lips, newly kissed. "As always, taicho." Arakaki slid upon the door quietly, and before walking away she turned her head slightly. "Don't forget that message." There was a small clatter of the door closing. Kisuke smiled to himself.
Little did he know, these late night encounters and tea parties meant more to him then he realized.
Every night, they would talk for an hour or so over tea. He greatly enjoyed her company, but it was his gut feeling that she didn't trust him. That she was deceiving him.
Yet he shook away those feelings night after night. Little did he know how much he wanted to win her over. In a way he felt that he had already done so.
Sayomi stood a few feet from Urahara-taicho's quarters, and folded her hands together before her. On the verge of collapsing into sleep, she gave another smile before wobbingly walking back to her own room.
Arakaki was crying bitterly in her room; her face was buried in her hands, as she sat kneeling. Hiyori was watching skeptically from the door.
"Hey, crybaby. If he's gone, he's gone! No big deal. Maybe we'll get someone better."
"Gomenasai, Sarugaki-fukutaicho," was the small reply.
Sayomi felt her fukutaicho's reiatsu leave before she heard the footsteps fade. She slowly wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeves, as Hiyori's words echoed through her mind.
Crybaby.
He's gone.
Someone better.
Sayomi struggled to get to her feet, and when she did, she whispered, "I told you to be wary, Urahara-taicho. Now you've disappeared from Soul Society."
The adrenaline in her passive heart surged furiously. All of a sudden, she was angry. "I tried to let him know! I tried to show him how much he meant to me! He was more than just my captain!"
Suddenly, a hand held her own. She saw the face of Soi Fon, the lietenant of the second division, who, like the twelveth, had lost its captain.
"We must be strong, Arakaki," she whispered. "No matter how hurt we are internally, we must bring our strength to the front."
The girls lightly embraced, and then Soi Fon told her friend, "I've been promoted to taicho! Surely you have been given a promotion as well? See, good things come out of all situations."
A long time had passed. The Urahara Shoten was closed for today. Urahara himself sat in his room, thinking. A few days had passed since Ichigo and his companions had returned from Soul Society. But something felt different in the atmosphere. Yet he couldn't figure it out.
There was a small knock. Urahara looked up, a bit tiredly. "Yes, Tessai?"
"Yoruichi-sama is here, with a guest."
"Let them in."
There were a few whisperes, before the sliding door opened. Yoruichi stepped forward.
"I brought someone here to see you."
"That's fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes, Yoruichi."
Another figure slowly made its way into the room. It happened to be a beautiful woman, who timidly looked to Yoruichi for direction. With a nod, she watched as the shy young lady approached Urahara fearfully.
"Now, who do we have here?" Urahara asked politely, looking into her eyes. Eyes so mesmerizing and enthralling, he would have been an utmost fool not to remember.
"Sayomi."
He nearly regretted speaking her name. It was the first time he had done so since he left Soul Society, and its usual fluency sounded quick and curt and coarse. And as he said it, he felt her reiatsu become unsteady.
"I...I -"
"Shh, Sayomi. It's been too long," Kisuke soothed her, standing on his feet and enveloping his former third seat into a hug.
"I'm a mess," she bemoaned, clutching the his clothing fiercely in her small, thin grip.
"Gomenasai, Sayomi -"
"How could you leave me behind?"
"Sayomi -"
"I tried and tried to make you see how important you were to me!" she weeped, falling limp in his arms. Arms she had longed to be supported by. Arms she wasn't sure whether she loathed or loved right now.
He stroked her hair lovingly, a sad smile spread across his face.
"I've missed you, Sayomi. I've missed you and your love."
Her sniffling slowly ceased, and she looked up at him with her tear-stricken face.
"Me too, Urahara-taicho." She then blushed at his chuckling, and quickly realized her mistake.
"Um...what should I call you now?"
"Kisuke."
Her flushed complexion reddened depper. "K-Kisuke."
He leaned forward and brought his hand to her cheek, as they lips softly met and brushed against one another. He then lowered his hand and titled his head back straight, as her eyelids fluttered open.
Just like before, she thought.
"Come. Let's have some tea."
It was going to be one of those nights.
