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Ichigo Shiba, Kisuke is coming to learn, is an enigma wrapped in mystery that doesn’t exist anywhere. Or, well, he does, but any information about him just doesn’t add up. He’s clearly a Shiba, so he had to have been born and raised in Soul Society. That means Kisuke should be able to find records of his entire life to this point, even if it’s just vaguely. But there’s nothing. Up until one day a little over two months ago now, Ichigo Shiba doesn’t seem to have existed.
Even the reports from the Rukon residents that found him beaten and bloody in a ditch don’t make sense! He was found in a shinigami shihakusho and he had a sword that looked like a zanpakutou by his side. Which is impossible! There’s no way that someone from Rukongai got their hands on an asauchi. And even if they could manage to steal an asauchi, awakening a zanpakutou takes time and training. It’s not something you can just-just do!
Not to mention, the shunpo Ichigo says he learnt from a shopkeeper who doesn’t exist—can’t exist, he’s searched everywhere—and the little habits he has that are more assassin than fighter. Nothing about the newest Shiba makes sense. And okay, maybe that has made Kisuke a little bit obsessed, but he doesn’t like having someone with so little background and so much talent this close without understanding their motives.
A motive that Ichigo must have. He must. Because otherwise Kisuke has no idea why the boy makes a continuous effort to seek him out for teatime or meals, or even just to sit in his company. Which is exactly what the boy has been doing as of a month ago. His own lieutenant has taken to just ignoring Ichigo’s presence it’s become so frequent. Sometimes Kaien even stops by on his way home to pick up Ichigo, which is amusing, Kisuke admits, because Ichigo always glares at him and grumbles about how, ‘I’m not a fucking child, Kaien, you don’t need walk me home!’ which just makes Kaien laugh. It’s become something of a routine.
A routine that he didn’t ask for and doesn’t need, but that he has anyway, and that’s frustrating him because why is Shiba Ichigo hanging out with someone like him? There’s no way that Ichigo hasn’t heard the rumours by now. The Gotei are nothing if not gossips, and Ichigo is the most exciting to happen in the past century, so everyone is scrambling to talk to him. There’s no doubt in his mind that several people have warned Ichigo that he’s an ex-assassin that’s cold-blooded and has no place as a captain.
It just doesn’t make sense. Ichigo Shiba doesn’t make sense.
Kisuke is mid-conversation when he enters his office. Sarugaki is at his side cursing him out over his latest experiment which wasn’t a total failure, thank you very much, but just needed a few… minor tweaks. Tweaks that would prevent him from blowing up the 12ths training hall next time. It’s not his fault his latest attempt at blending two kidou resulted in an explosion! That’s what the trial is for!
“There’s nothing wrong with using the kidou as they are! Stop trying to fuck with them, you dickhead!” Sarugaki shouts. He can tell that she’s going to try and kick him in her anger, and he’s fully prepared to shield himself with some kidou and let it happen. It’s not like she’s going to actually hurt him. They have something of a system between themselves at this point. But one second, she’s lifting her sandaled foot and aiming for his shin, the next thing Kisuke knows he’s behind someone’s back, and there’s a pressure bearing down on the room that’s almost stifling. It takes Kisuke a minute to recognize that the man in front of him is Ichigo.
“Ara, Ichigo-dono. I wasn’t aware you were here…” he trails off, blinking at the surprise in Sarugaki’s eyes and the way she’s tensed. “Who let you in here?” The question is an attempt to defuse the situation as much as he also really wants an answer. It’s one thing for Ichigo to be in his office when he’s here, or even for Sarugaki to let him in when she knows he’s on his way back, but it’s heavily warded and without permissions, Ichigo shouldn’t be able to be in here.
So how is he?
Not to mention, Kisuke hadn’t noticed him. Usually, he can sense some reiatsu from Ichigo, even if it’s faint. There’s been a couple times where he’s felt it stronger, usually when Ichigo’s distracted by something, but then it returns to being faint—barely an aftertaste in the background of the various shinigami. But it’s still present. How had both Sarugaki, his lieutenant and a strong shinigami in her own right, and he, an ex-assassin trained to sense this sort of thing so much so that it’s automatic, and a Captain missed the reiatsu of a single man who hasn’t even attended the academy yet?
“I let myself in,” Ichigo says, deflecting Sarugaki’s foot away from where they’d been locked in a stalemate. He looks over his shoulder and catches Kisuke’s eyes. His jaw is tense and Kisuke’s eyes flick down to look at Ichigo’s hands. They’re clenched so tight that it has to be painful.
“You can’t just let yourself into a captain’s office!” Sarugaki hisses, glaring at him. Which feels like a much more hostile reaction than the last few times he’s seen Ichigo and his lieutenant interact, but then again, they didn’t have a normal relationship either.
Ichigo shrugs, and Kisuke feels a headache coming on when Sarugaki bristles even more and then she’s throwing a punch that Ichigo dodges with far too much ease, and the slightest glint of amusement in his eyes that has Kisuke narrowing his own. Another mystery to add to the tally. “Maa, Sarugaki-fukutaichou is right, Ichigo-dono. There are sensitive materials in here. You need permission to enter,” he says, wondering if he should intervene with the tussle happening in his office before dismissing that idea. The distraction might help him get somewhere. “And what if one of the wards had hurt you?”
With a bend that requires more flexibility than Kisuke would have expected Ichigo to have, the Shiba ducks under Sarugaki’s next kick, which is giving Kisuke other ideas that he does not need to be having right now.
“Not like I’m interested in what fuckery the Gotei is getting up to, Kisuke,” Ichigo gripes. “If I never have to see paperwork again, it’ll be too soon.”
Kisuke hums as though that makes sense, even though it doesn’t. Half the Rukon brats don’t even know how to write their names, so where the hell did Ichigo see paperwork. The list of things that don’t make sense is ever extending. “Be that as it may, I’d prefer it if you didn’t break into my office,” he says wryly. “And I’d like to know how you got around the wards in the first place.”
There’s a chuckle from Ichigo, and a familiar shiver runs down Kisuke’s spine. He’s learnt over the past month of regular visits that getting a laugh out of Ichigo is more difficult than he’d expected. There’s a level of stoicism that Ichigo tries to keep, that combined with his naturally gruff exterior, makes for limited chances to hear the rather nice sound, so Kisuke always feels pride at pulling one from the Shiba. Still, it’s not the most encouraging sound to hear when he’s asking for his office to not be broken into.
“I’d like for him to get the fuck out,” Sarugaki shouts, obviously frustrated at having her attacks to easily evaded. It shouldn’t be possible. Of course, she’s hardly going all out, but even then, she shouldn’t be struggling so much to get a handle on one person. He’s seen her take down seated shinigami faster.
“Well, I hate to disappoint you both,” Ichigo says in an unapologetic tone. That probably means Ichigo isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and he’s not going to tell Kisuke how he got past his wards.
“Gah, let me hit you, you stupid Baldy!” Sarugaki lunges for Ichigo with zero finesse, and Ichigo scoffs.
“Surely you can come up with a better insult than that,” Ichigo says. He decidedly doesn’t let Sarugaki hit him, to no-one’s surprise. Which is probably for the best, because no matter what his cousin has done, he would not be happy to hear that Ichigo got hurt. If the boy gets so much as a paper cut, Kaien seems to flip out.
Kisuke claps his hands together, letting the sound ring through his office which is somehow in an even worse state of disarray than usual now. There are papers all over the floor and a pool of ink that’s probably going to stain his floorboards over by his cabinet. “Enough. Sarugaki-fukutaichou, if you’re done scolding me, then return to your duties. I’ll deal with Ichigo-dono,” he says. It’s politely worded, but even Sarugaki can understand an order when it’s being given.
“Fuck, fine! But this isn’t over, Baldy!”
Ichigo thankfully holds his tongue and doesn’t say anything to Sarugaki as she storms from the room.
Kisuke sighs in relief when the door slams shut with a bang. Turning his attention to Ichigo, he’s vaguely amused at how the Shiba is already walking around picking up the papers without a glance to their contents. Not interested indeed. Which is for the best, because there really could be confidential information in those documents.
“That was interesting,” Kisuke says, after a few minutes of silently observing Ichigo as he tidies his office.
Ichigo looks over at him, and his eyes are guarded but there’s a slight smirk on his lips. “Learn anything?” he asks. Because he realised early on that Kisuke was fishing for information and he’s never been shy about how amusing he found the entire situation.
“Your hakuda is pretty good,” Kisuke offers. It’s an attempt to wheedle more information on who taught him, and Ichigo knows it.
There’s a tinge of sadness in Ichigo’s eyes now. “Thanks. A shopkeeper and a cat taught me,” he says, like there’s an inside joke there that Kisuke’s not in on. Which is frustrating because Ichigo’s not lying about this, and that doesn’t make sense.
“The same shopkeeper who taught you shunpo?” Kisuke asks, slightly sarcastic.
Ichigo hums. “Same cat that helped too.”
“Right.” Kisuke pauses. “So, why are you here?” It’s not just a question of ‘here and now’ but also a question of in general, because that’s still nagging at the back of his mind.
Ichigo falls into his seat without a care for the fact that it’s a Captain’s seat. When he says as much, Ichigo rolls his eyes. “It’s a seat. No need to make is sound so special,” he says. Which is technically true, but still a blatant disregard of Kisuke’s position. It should bother him more than it does.
Instead of taking a seat, Kisuke moves to lean against the wall nearby where he has a full view of both Ichigo and the door. “You didn’t answer my question,” he prompts.
“Can’t I be here?” Ichigo asks.
Kisuke narrows his eyes. “You allowed to visit me, provided I’m actually in my office and someone lets you in,” he says, because he really doesn’t want Ichigo getting ideas.
Ichigo just smirks. “I’m starting at the academy in a week,” he says instead.
“Oh?”
“Thought you might want an update, given you’re the one who told me I had to-“
“Highly encouraged!” Kisuke objects, because telling Ichigo what to do never gets results.
“So here I am, telling you,” Ichigo says, ignoring his protest. He slumps in Kisuke’s seat. “It means I won’t be able to see you as often anymore.”
That makes sense. Even if Ichigo is as much of a prodigy as he appears to be, he’ll still need to attend some classes and spend the majority of his time on campus. Still, something in Kisuke pangs. It’s been… nice having someone come to see him so often and drag him off to go. He doesn’t really have friends other than Tsukabishi and Yoruichi, both of whom are often very busy and have their own things to take care of, and he’s gotten used to having someone come and nag him about eating meals at appropriate hours. Ichigo’s presence has been… pleasant.
Kisuke ignore the feeling though and offers a smile. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time there. Who knows, maybe you’ll join the line-up of one-year graduates,” he suggests.
Ichigo’s face twists into disgust. “Firstly, I really don’t think it’s going to be that enjoyable. I’m literally only doing this so that Kaien and the Shiba’s don’t get in trouble. And two, I’d rather not stand out in the academy by being some kind of prodigy.”
Laughter bubbles inside of Kisuke because the very idea of Ichigo, a Shiba recovered from Rukongai whose been the talk of Seireitei for weeks being able to lie low in the academy is hilariously low. And that’s excluding the fact that Kisuke doesn’t think Ichigo will be able to stop himself from being so obviously ahead of the curve that it’s laughable. Still, he tries to appear sincere when he smiles and nods. “Of course. I will you the best of luck, Ichigo-dono.”
“Ugh, just Ichigo. We’re friends, Kisuke, you don’t need to call me with a honorific,” Ichigo says, just like he does every time. He’s just as offended every time as well, which amuses Kisuke to no end.
“Of course, Ichigo-dono,” he says, just to see Ichigo glare at him.
“Bastard,” Ichigo says, but with so much more fondness than Kisuke can compute the Shiba feeling towards someone that he’s only known for a month.
“I might be convinced to drop the honorific if Ichigo-dono deemed me enough of a friend to tell me how he broke into my office?” Kisuke offers.
Ichigo snorts. “Not a chance, Kisuke. You enjoy the challenge anyway, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out sooner or later,” he says.
Which is true enough, and Kisuke sighs in defeat. “Then Ichigo-dono you’ll remain,” he laments.
There’s a small smile on Ichigo’s lips that fills Kisuke with warmth. “I’ll survive,” he says.
They fall into silence for a few minutes. It’s comfortable, just like it always is with Ichigo. Eventually, the Shiba breaks it again. “I’m still going to stop by on my weekends from the academy. Kaien and Kuukaku-nee were very clear that if they were agreeing to this then they wanted me home as often as possible, which means I’ll be able to drop by then,” he explains.
That doesn’t surprise Kisuke. He’s still not entirely sure how Ichigo convinced those two to let him attend the academy to quickly in the first place. There had to have been some trick involved. “I suppose I can find some time for you then,” Kisuke says, just to see Ichigo roll his eyes and huff again. These small reactions are an addiction and knowing that Ichigo will be less present makes him want to gather as many of them as he can and hoard them away for a rainy day. Which is not how it works at all, but emotions aren’t the most logical things.
“Even if you don’t make time for me, I’ll crash whatever you’re up to,” Ichigo promises, like that should be a positive.
Maybe it is. But it definitely shouldn’t be. Still, he doesn’t say that Ichigo can’t.
“I look forward to it,” Kisuke says.
Ichigo beams.