Rivalry (Urahara x Reader)

Caring

The gates of the Twelfth Division loomed ahead of me, their towering structure cast in the soft glow of the mid-morning sun. The air here felt different—denser somehow, buzzing faintly with the hum of unseen energy. It was the unmistakable signature of Kisuke's division, a place where science and innovation thrived alongside secrecy.

As I stepped through the gates, the quiet was almost eerie. The sound of my sandals against the stone pathway echoed faintly, mingling with the occasional hum of machinery and murmured voices drifting from the barracks. The scent of metal and chemicals hung faintly in the air, a sharp contrast to the more organic aroma of cherry blossoms and greenery that usually greeted me in my own division.

The walkway ahead twisted and turned, lined with tall, slim buildings where researchers worked tirelessly. My eyes flicked to the shoji doors, some of which were open just enough to reveal glimpses of chalkboards covered in calculations or glowing glass tubes filled with mysterious substances.

As I turned a corner, I nearly walked straight into Hiyori Sarugaki. She looked as though she hadn't slept in days—dark circles framed her sharp eyes, and she clutched a clipboard to her chest as though it were the only thing holding her upright.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp as always, though the fatigue softened the bite.

"Nothing much," I said with a shrug, sidestepping her and pretending not to notice the suspicion in her gaze. "Thought I'd drop by. Speaking of which, how's Urahara doing with the hollow attack investigation? Any progress?"

Hiyori's face twisted into a scowl, though her tone betrayed a hint of reluctant admiration. "He's working on it. That idiot's been pouring his soul into the research, barely stopping to eat or sleep. And as if that wasn't enough, Captain Yamamoto dumped extra work on him, so now the squad's been running ragged too. He's overextending himself, as usual."

Her words lingered with me as I made my way to the lab. The pathway grew quieter the closer I got, and the buildings loomed taller, their imposing shadows stretching across the courtyard like watchful sentinels.

Finally, I reached Kisuke's lab. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open to find the room dimly lit, bathed in the soft, blue glow of machinery. Instruments whirred quietly, their lights flickering in patterns that seemed almost alive. Papers and half-empty teacups were scattered across the tables, a testament to his relentless pace.

And there he was, slumped over his desk, his head resting on one arm, surrounded by a mess of blueprints and scribbled notes. He looked smaller like this, vulnerable in a way I wasn't used to seeing. His breathing was slow and even, and I noticed the faintest shiver run through him.

The lab was cold—colder than it should've been. Without thinking, I slipped off my haori and draped it over his shoulders, tucking it around him to keep him warm. For a moment, I stood there, watching him. The usual sharpness in his features was softened by exhaustion, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of concern.

Deciding that he'd appreciate something warm when he woke, I turned to leave, intending to find the pantry and brew some tea.

As I reached the doorway, I found Hiyori leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, her sharp eyes studying me with an expression I couldn't quite place.

"You're a lot kinder than you let on," she said, her voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

I chuckled softly, adjusting my sleeves. "Don't let it get out. It'll ruin my reputation."

She smirked but didn't argue, stepping aside to let me pass.

"Where's the pantry?" I asked over my shoulder.