Short Stories and Oneshots

Sorrowful Tears of the Moon - Part 2

A sigh.

"This makes no sense whatsoever."

"I do agree." Urahara said, fan snapping open so suddenly that it made his friend jump. They fell silent once again, before Isshin spoke.

"Two months ago, I saw Ichigo use a strange technique."

The scientist leaned forward, looking interested.

"What kind of technique?"

"Well, he was standing on the riverbank, and then, suddenly, poof! He disappeared."

"Well, that could have been Shunpo."

"But it wasn't." Isshin insisted. "That's the problem. It wasn't Shunpo, or even Sonido! It was something I've never seen before, and it was damn fast."

A pause.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The ex-Shinigami's shoulders slumped.

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want it to be real. But when they came to take the Kuchiki girl back, I could feel this...this emptiness in the house. Even the tiny amount of reiatsu Ichigo usually leaks out wasn't there, and Karin was using a Mod-Soul..."

The fan snapped open once more.

"Yes, a strange coincidence indeed." Urahara said slowly, obviously deep in thought. "So your son is most likely involved in Shinigami business...How?"

How? Now that was a question they wished they had an answer for.

"I'm going to install security cameras around the shop. If Ichigo really is involved, there is a chance he will come to see Karin leave or to check up on her."

"I'll wait in the vicinity too. Do you still have that cloak? The one which completely conceals reiatsu."

Urahara smiled, fanning his face.

"Hai, hai! Tessai-san! Would you mind bringing me the concealing cloak?"

From the depths of the shop, they clearly heard Tessai's deep "yes, boss!" and looked back at each other. This promised to be interesting.

~

Karakura Town.

August 8th, 1:00 AM.

Karin had left. He'd given her the protection charm and seen her off, and she hadn't even wondered why her father was up at one in the morning, and hadn't asked questions when he'd caught her sneaking out in the middle of the night. He sighed, wrapping the cloak tightly around his body, though he technically didn't need to so long as the clasps were all in place, it concealed any and all reiatsu emitted by whatever it was wrapped around. Still, he couldn't help but feel nervous. Ichigo had been more distant than ever lately, spacing out and frowning thoughtfully, as if he were planning something or thinking really hard about something. It was disconcerting, this constant seriousness that he tried very hard to hide yet still couldn't keep off his face whenever he thought nobody was looking.

He watched in amusement as Karin sputtered when she saw Chad, Inoue and Ishida saying they were coming too, Chad because Rukia had saved him once, Ishida because he wanted to get revenge over the Soul Reapers, and Inoue for no particular reason except that she had the means to fight, had befriended Rukia and wanted to help Karin. Well, he guessed those were good reasons to go to Soul Society, actually. Yoruichi stepped forward, teasing Karin with her male voice, and Isshin snickered to himself at the thought of her face when she would find out she was actually a woman.

There was a very subtle movement in the air and suddenly, someone was standing in the shadows a mere foot away from him. He sunk a little deeper into the shadows, holding back a gasp as he stared at the newcomer. He, for it was definitely a he, was tall, with a lithe, muscled body, yet almost skinny. He was clad in all black, though not the traditional garb of the Shinigamis but rather in modern human combat clothes, with a silk black scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face, obscuring his features, a black dagger earring with a single ruby in its center dangling from his left earlobe. There were two Zanpakuto strapped to his back, but Isshin couldn't bring himself to care. Because despite the scarf, despite the darkness, he could see them clear as day. Those amber orbs, slightly lighter than the chocolate brown he knew so very well, blazing with determination as they watched the group follow Urahara into the shop, the deep furrow of those eyebrows, and most of all, the bright orange of his spiky hair. It was longer, though, and streaked with white and brown, but it was still obvious, and it became even more so when the newcomer reached up and brought the scarf down to settle around his neck.