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They meet when Kisuke’s just become Taichou of the 12th. He’s feeling melancholic; his bond with Yoruichi-sama is strained at best, and he doesn’t know where to go or what to do. For so long, his life has revolved not around what he wants to do with his life, but what he needs to do to survive. And somewhere along the way, Yoruichi-sama became a joining point between the two because he enjoyed serving her, and doing so also allowed him to survive. To continue living comfortably, even if there were nights when he couldn't sleep because he was drowning in the blood of those he's killed. And it was safe—not having to make the choices for himself. He could just let her decide for him and then things that happened weren’t right or wrong, they simply were, because that was the will of his master.
Except Yoruichi-sama isn’t his master anymore. “This is better, Kisuke,” she said. But Kisuke doesn’t see how that could be the case when he feels like he’s desperately kicking his legs to stay afloat and he’s still being pulled underwater, drowning in the decisions and the changes. It’s all so much. Meeting his fukutaichou and immediately seeing how much she hates him was the final straw.
So now he’s standing at the base of a hill a couple districts away from Seireitei. It’s a spot he’d found with Tessai-san and Yoruichi-sama when they were attending the academy together. At the top of the hill is a lone red maple tree. It’s a little out of the way from the towns, so no-one is ever here. It’s the perfect place for him to just breathe and sort his thoughts out.
Kisuke opts to walk instead of shunpo the last of the distance up the hill, basking in the normalcy of it all. He pauses as he reaches the top. There’s someone else under the tree. Their features look distinctly like the Shiba main branch, but his hair is bright orange and long. Kisuke’s never seen him before, but in the lightly blowing wind, as maple leaves fall, and his hair moves lightly, he’s beautiful. If his hair was shorter, he might’ve looked more like Shiba-fukutaichou. Objectively speaking, he might be better looking than Shiba-fukutaichou—it’s surprising he’s never met the man before.
Cautiously, Kisuke moves closer, feet onmi silent and reiatsu restrained on automatic. Shiba or not, this is an unknown man. He won’t be taking chances.
Still, as soon as he’s only a few steps from the Shiba, the man opens an eye lazily. It gives Kisuke the impression or a lion, graceful and also dismissive of his danger. How could he be in danger when the lion is king of the jungle? Golden brown meets his own silver-grey eyes, and it’s silent for a moment. There’s something about the look in his eyes that sends a shiver down Kisuke’s spine. A feeling of sadness and distress and desire and so much more. It’s complex, and he swallows against such a heavy feeling.
“Ah, hello Shiba-san,” Kisuke greets. He inwardly curses his own awkwardness, and tries his best to smile openly, even as his fingers twitch for a weapon. Something about this Shiba’s gaze makes him feel… exposed.
“Hey.”
Okay, Kisuke may be having a slight crisis, because this Shiba’s voice is soft and low, but not too low, and he’s only said one word, but he feels like he could listen to this man talk forever. It’s a little concerning.
It’s silent as Kisuke panics mentally and the man just stares at him. It’s a little disconcerting how those eyes are looking at him, but also seem to be looking through him. Like he’s not entirely there in this moment.
“Shiba-san?”
“Ah,” Shiba-san says. “Sorry. I’m not a Shiba.”
Kisuke frowns. There’s no way that this man isn’t a Shiba. It’s not possible to have this much resemblance and not belong to at least one of the branch families. Is he a bastard child? The Shiba’s usually take them in though. They’re big on family, and they aren’t likely to discriminate between ‘proper’ birth and ‘improper’ birth considering they’re the one great clan that doesn’t care for propriety at all. “If you say so,” Kisuke says. “What should I call you then?”
The man considers him for a moment, and it feels like Kisuke’s asked a question he shouldn’t have, which is ridiculous because he just wants to know this man’s name.
“You can call me Ichigo,” Ichigo-san says at last.
“Well, Ichigo-san, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kisuke says, and surprisingly enough, he means it. There’s something soothing about this man’s presence. He’s a contradiction, putting Kisuke on edge in some ways but for the few minutes he’s been talking with this man, the world has fallen away, and he feels a little less like he’s being swept away with the rapids. It’s… freeing. Dangerously so.
“Hm,” Ichigo-san says. “What brings you out here, Shinigami-sama?” Somehow, the honorific sounds mocking, almost like Ichigo-san is quoting someone else's insistence on it rather than it being a natural addition to his name. Kisuke files that away for later, because while he's met some people who couldn't care less for shinigami, this close to Seireitei, they are few and far between.
"Shinigami-sama?"
The thought of being referred to as just ‘shinigami’ leaves an unpleasant taste in Kisuke’s mouth. In the first place, he came out here to escape being a shinigami and just... be. He's left his haori in said empty office, so at least doesn't need to worry about being found out immediately. Still, he doesn’t like the thought of giving a stranger his real name either. No more than he wants to spill his concerns to someone else. It feels unsafe—a one-way trip to being betrayed.
“Call me Kaede, Ichigo-san,” Kisuke settles on.
The man’s mouth quirks into a half-smile, half-smirk that makes Kisuke’s heart skip a beat which can’t be healthy, seriously. How do other people function if this is what it feels like to be attracted to someone?
“Then, Kaede, what brings you out here?” Ichigo-san asks again. Evidently, he's decided to drop the formalities entirely. Kisuke's lips twitch, even as he recalls why he's here, talking to a not-Shiba mystery instead of settling into his new office. “I just needed a moment to myself.”
Ichigo-san hums. “Should I leave then?”
Shaking his head, Kisuke offers a hesitant smile. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want this man to leave. “You were here first. I could hardly ask that of you,” he says. “Besides, I don’t mind the company.”
Ichigo-san studies him for a moment. It's disconcerting, the way those eyes seem to be looking at him, almost like Ichigo-san is studying him to see if he's lying or not. It's not possible for this man to read him, Kisuke knows, because being onmi trained tells out of him. Still, after a minute Ichigo-san seems to decide that he's being truthful and nods. “In that case, why don’t you take a seat? It’s a little awkward with you looming over me,” he says.
Kisuke’s cheeks flush a little. Maybe he is looming a little, standing this close but not taking a seat. That has to be uncomfortable for the other man. “Alright.”
They sit in comfortable silence for a while. There’s a metre or so between them, and the light wind keeps blowing. It’s nice. Peaceful. Kisuke relaxes into it, just letting himself breathe a little longer.
“Sometimes a stranger can offer advice that someone who knows you can’t,” Ichigo-san says, breaking the silence.
Kisuke glances over at Ichigo-san, narrowing his eyes a little. What’s his angle?
Ichigo-san raises his hands, chuckling, and Soul King help him, that sound should be illegal. Kisuke's cheeks feel like they're on fire and he coughs like that can cover his embarrassment and save him from the amusement sparkling in those brown orbs. “I’m not sure this is something I can explain to a stranger,” Kisuke says.
Grunting in assent, Ichigo-san is quiet for a minute. “I’m not the smartest guy around, but I’m more than happy to listen anyway. Even if I don’t understand what you’re talking about, maybe saying it out loud will help you understand things better,” he says.
“Oh?”
Ichigo-san shrugs. “I’m not making you do anything,” he says. “Just offering an ear.”
“And what do you get out of that?” Kisuke asks, because this feels unfairly geared towards him receiving something without giving something in return.
Ichigo-san smiles softly, and there’s a sad look in his eyes again. “There was a friend I once had that I never got to properly thank. I think he’d appreciate it if I heard you out,” he says. It doesn’t make any sense to Kisuke. How can helping him be payment to this friend that, by the lost look in those eyes, is long passed back into the reincarnation cycle.
Still, Kisuke finds that he wants to tell this story to Ichigo-san. So, he does. He leaves out all the details that feel like too much information—that feel like he’s offering too much of himself—but he gives Ichigo-san the gist of the situation. By the end of it, the sun is setting low in the sky, and Kisuke feels a lot better about everything than he had a few hours before, even though his situation is the same.
“I think,” Ichigo-san says, when they’ve sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the man consider everything Kisuke has told him, “that you’re feeling lost right now, but if you give yourself time, your friend is right. Whatever job she’s gotten you, I’m sure you’ll be great at it. And your underlings will warm up to you.”
Kisuke chokes on a surprised laugh at the word ‘underlings.’ That is not how he’d explained his subordinates.
Something about Ichigo-san almost seems to glow in pride as he offers a smile, “Try talking to them, though. Show the people under you that you’re just another person with feelings and maybe they’ll warm up faster. But also show them that you’re competent. Be firm, not strict. As for your friend,” Ichigo-san says, pausing almost like he's unsure of how to phrase what he's about to say before he continues, “I think you’re not as angry as you’re trying to convince yourself you are.”
Kisuke doesn’t look at Ichigo-san in disgust at the idea of just being openly emotional to his fukutaichou, but it’s a close thing. He’s a little too distracted by how Ichigo-san just seems to know him. It’s a terrifying and he’s back to wanting Benihime or even just a kunai in his hand, ready to stab Ichigo before he can be stabbed. His hand is reaching to where he keeps several hidden weapons, just to be on the safe side.
But Ichigo-san doesn’t stab him. He just smiles the little soft smile again and then gets up. The orange haired man looks down and chuckles at the glimmer of steel that his eyes land on. Kisuke waits for him to comment on the shuriken that are clutched in his hand, but Ichigo-san doesn't. He just dusts himself off, and now that Kisuke’s looking at more than just his face, he notices the way Ichigo-san’s clothes almost look like a shihakusho. Which brings him back to his earlier confusion about who exactly this not-a-Shiba Ichigo is.
“It’s getting late,” Ichigo-san says. “So I’ll be seeing you.”
Kisuke opens his mouth but before he can say a word, Ichigo-san is gone. Kisuke isn’t even able to track the man, he’s so fast. Easily Shihouin fast. There was barely even a swish of the Ichigo-san's clothes too. Assassin silent. Kisuke looks up at the moon through the maple leaves like it holds the answers he wants. A small smile tugs at his lips.
“Ichigo-san,” he whispers to himself. “Just who are you?”
The moon doesn’t answer, but that’s okay. Ichigo-san had said, ‘I’ll be seeing you’ and deep down, Kisuke knows, they’ll see each other again.