Ties of Blood

a/n: Sorry it’s been so long since there’s been an update, but it took awhile to get this out. Still, I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to everyone who’s been following this story. Much love to Ranna and Kuromei for their reviews!

Ties of Blood
Part Four

Laughter rang through the corridor as Kisuke raced across the hall and toward the staircase, waraji slapping against the floor.

“Hurry up, Kisuke-kun!” Kuna-senpai shouted at him, voice carrying as he caught a glimpse of the wide grin that stretched her pixyish features. “Or we'll leave you behind.”

“You threaten that every time!” Kisuke accused just as loudly.

His words echoed in the stairway as he took them two at a time. He ignored Otoribashi-senpai as he called for him to slow down. His friends laughed again, amused as he hurried to join them. They were all going out for drinks tonight, and Kisuke was the last to leave the classroom. It was his fault of course since Mao-sensei was scolding him. But was he to be blamed that his theory was wrong? They were trying to encourage hypotheses here, weren't they?

Kisuke's feet skidded across the corner as he rounded the stairs and leapt onto the railing, sliding down the length of it by the seat of his hakama. Two feet from the end and just before he would have landed elegantly on the ground, someone stepped into his path.

“Oh, shit!” Kisuke breathed and had only a moment for his eyes to widen before they collided.

Papers went flying as Kisuke all but tackled the other boy. And they crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and documents. Kisuke snapped his chin against the tiled floor, landing harshly on his shoulder, while the other boy ended up in a tangled heap. Paper rained slowly down like confetti on the two as Kisuke's wonderful friends pointed and laughed.

Groaning, Kisuke forced himself to sit up. He rubbed fingers over his aching chin.

“Ow,” he moaned and heard a tinny voice echoing his complaint.

Kisuke glanced over and saw the boy – another student actually – slowly sitting up, wincing with pain. Eyes a rather interesting shade of blue skittered over the floor, looking dismayed at the scattered papers and documents.

“Oh, no,” the student bemoaned and hung his head. “It's going to take me forever to put those papers back in order. Sensei will be so angry.”

“It's my fault,” Kisuke was quick to say as he scrambled to his feet despite the fact the quick motion made his head spin just a little. “I'm sorry. I didn't see you until it was too late.”

A chuckle, too nervous for it to sound amused, fell from the kid's lips as he looked up at Kisuke and the hand that had been offered to help him up. Dark hair framed the boy’s face. A rather attractive face at that. Kisuke felt something in his own cheeks heat.

“That happens a lot,” the other student said, accepting the hand and letting Kisuke haul him to his feet. He barely weighed anything and stood perhaps a full foot shorter than Kisuke, who had finally surpassed his sister sometime last year.

“You coming, Kisuke-kun?” Kotetsu-san, another one of his friends asked, dancing from foot-to-foot in anticipation.

Friday meant freedom and none of them wanted to linger around the Academy.

Feeling guilty, he waved them off. “I'll catch up later,” Kisuke promised as the dark-haired boy slowly started to gather the fallen papers.

The small group of students tossed a collective goodbye Kisuke's direction. But he was already focused on the task at hand.

“Urahara Kisuke,” he said by way of introduction, thrusting his hand in the other boy's direction.

Those big eyes looked up at him. “Yamada Hanatarou,” he replied and took Kisuke's hand.

Sparks of his reiatsu met Kisuke’s own, warm and soothing. Like a healer or something similar. It was pretty obvious anyway that Yamada was no fighter. Though there were some girls in Kisuke's class about his size who could take down the largest of them with no problem. So maybe he shouldn't judge by appearances alone.

“So... are you a first-year?” Kisuke asked as he slanted his eyes away from Yamada. For some reason, they wanted to wander back to the other boy's pretty features.

“Actually, I'm a senior,” Yamada answered with another one of those nervous chuckles. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “I don't look like it, right?”

Of course, that was pretty much invitation for Kisuke to look again. And then, he wondered why his stomach did a little flip at the sight of Yamada's bony shoulders and dark hair.

“You're older than me?” he questioned instead, tripping over his own words as he fought his body's unusual reaction.

Kisuke decided to focus on retrieving the documents for now. It was safer that way.

“I guess so,” Yamada replied as he bent down to help gather his papers. “It’s so hard to tell sometimes.”

And wasn’t that the truth? Noble and Shinigami ages were almost impossible to discern. Though generally, the more reiatsu a person had, the slower they aged. There were some rumors that a couple of the captains were nearly two thousand years old. Even a few that had Yamamoto-soutaichou as even older than that. As old as Seireitei itself. But no one ever seemed to confirm that either way.

Of course, age wasn’t the only thing hard to figure out. Byakuya had more than proved that. It was just so damn impossible to tell sometimes. Some of the girls looked like boys and no small amount of the boys could pass for girls. Unless Kisuke saw breasts or some other uncontroversial proof, he assumed male until learning otherwise. It had saved him a lot of embarrassment since coming to the Academy the year previous.

Yamada paused then, and Kisuke blinked. Only to realize that some time had passed since he’d spoken. They’d even managed to pick up most of the papers.

“Ano… Yes. Yes, it is,” he agreed. “Sorry. Just thinking there.” His gaze drew to Yamada’s face and delicate features before darting away again.

Kisuke was fairly certain that Yamada was male. But there was no really good way to be sure just yet. Gods, there wasn’t even a smooth or not completely insulting way to ask either. Nothing short of seeing Yamada naked or sticking a hand down his pants and feeling around.

Not that Kisuke was considering either option. No, not at all.

Look away, look away. Don’t stare into those blue eyes. Just pick up the papers and pretend not to notice a damn thing. Not a damn thing at all. Not how petite he was. Or the mesmerizing color of his eyes. Or the fact that kneeling this close together Kisuke could smell him and that he happened to smell really good.

Kisuke luckily caught himself before he could lean in to get a better sniff. Yamada hadn’t even seemed to notice his slip. But the cough from just behind them was a clue that someone else had. And the blond could only gulp and shoot a look over his shoulder.

Tall. Dark skin. Square-framed glasses. A lifted eyebrow.

Tessai-san. One of the students in his year and something of a friend. While he mightn’t have the Shihouin name, Kisuke had no doubt that he was a relative. Not with his looks. Of course, Kisuke had few doubts about why Tessai-san hung around so much. Her name started with a Y, and she was related to both of them. Though very few knew that.

“Urahara-do…san,” Tessai-san greeted with a short bow and glanced between him and his new friend. There was something almost knowing in that look.

Kisuke felt one eye almost twitch. But he controlled it.

“Ah… Tessai-san, what are you doing here?” Kisuke asked, somehow managing a normal tone. “I thought we were going to meet you at the tavern.” It was more statement than question.

“I was detained, Urahara-san.” Tessai-san studied him through his glasses, eyes flicking again to Yamada who was gathering the last of his papers. “I can see the same of you. We can just go together then.”

“Ano…” Kisuke cast a glance at Yamada and saw him pointedly staring at the far wall. “Alright.” He looked at Tessai-san and then Yamada. “I’m sorry for running into you earlier. I apologize.”

“It’s fine. Happens all the time,” Yamada responded, sneaking a peak at him and then looking at the ground.

But Kisuke had caught the expression on his face. “Okay then. I’ll see you around. Maybe you can come with us one day when you don’t have papers to deliver,” he said and shot a smile at him.

And just as he expected, Yamada glanced up again and paused at his grin. He blinked very slowly and then smiled back. A warm and bright expression that lit up his whole face.

It was all Kisuke could do not to feel his belly flutter.

- - -

Another sake cup shoved across the table in his direction, and wasn't his sister the best? She was always willing to buy him a drink or two!

Kisuke grabbed the bowl and sloshed the liquid into his mouth, the strong alcohol no longer burning. Which might have had something to do with the Anti-Hangover pills he had invented and was now testing. Or it could have been the fact that he'd already drank a hell of a lot so one more little cup didn't matter anymore.

Yoruichi grinned and propped her chin on her palm. “Alright, Ki-chan. Spill.” She leaned forward eagerly.

Here in Rukongai, tucked into some dark corner of one of the double-digit districts, Yoruichi's face was only known in theory. No one would recognize her. Thereby making this a safe place to meet.

“Spill what?”

He was dangerously close to a whine, which just wasn't appropriate for a boy – almost man – of his age. He was in his third and final year in the Academy after all. Graduating a whole three years early. And really, the only reason it had even taken him this long was because he insisted on taking every class that he found even remotely interesting.

“Whatever it is that has you all conflicted right now and begging me to buy you drinks,” Yoruichi pushed. Her golden eyes gleamed, even in the dim light of their corner.

In the other half of the bar, a group of men laughed uproariously. But the siblings were paid little attention. No one really was except for the staff that occasionally came by to bring more beer.

Kisuke snorted and put his head on his outstretched arm. He toyed with the empty sake bowl with his other hand.

“I'm not begging,” he sulked.

“You're giving me the puppy eyes. I call it begging,” Yoruichi teased, and she kicked out a foot under the table to catch him in the leg. “Tell me or I'll be forced to use extreme measures.”

Well, when she said it like that... It wasn't like he didn't plan to tell her anyway. Who else would he bemoan his recent identity crisis to but his sister? He had made some friends in the Academy, but they weren't nearly as close to him as Yoruichi. Besides, she was supposed to be older and wiser. Though Kisuke wasn't too sure on the latter one. Crazier fit much better.

He pushed the sake cup back towards his sister, rolling his eyes up at her and giving her a beseeching look. Yoruichi laughed and grabbed the bottle. She poured the last of it into the bowl and nudged it in his direction. Such a great sister. He sat up long enough to toss back the clear alcohol and steel himself. Then, looking around as though any one of the other patrons would actually be interested in their conversation, Kisuke drew in a sharp breath.

“I think I'm gay,” he said as he toyed with the empty bowl and his shoulders deflated.

Silence answered his proclamation before he felt more than saw his sister's grin widen.

“What makes you think that?” Yoruichi asked, and there was a hint of something in her voice. Not disapproval or disgust but an odd sort of interest.

It gave him enough courage to look at her. “I think Byakuya's cute,” Kisuke admitted with a dark flush that covered his entire face. Even the tips of his ears.

Never minding that he’d first thought Byakuya was a girl. He was going to blame this entirely on the Kuchiki heir. If it hadn't been for Byakuya, Kisuke would have never gotten so confused. Damn girly-faced long-haired brat.

Yoruichi rolled her eyes, still watching him intently. And he was so damn grateful that she was taking him seriously.

“Everyone thinks that, Ki-chan. Until he opens his mouth that is. Then, the cuteness evaporates.”

Despite himself, Kisuke felt his lips crack into a grin. For a noble, Byakuya was both surprisingly and unsurprisingly loud-mouthed. His arrogance only made it worse. But then, he was raised to have that self-confidence.

He tapped his fingers on the table. “Granted,” Kisuke admitted, and he shrunk a bit in his seat. “And maybe I could have dismissed that. But then, I ran into this student awhile back, and I haven't stopped thinking about him since then.”

And with that, his sister’s eyes practically sparkled.

“Oh?” She lifted a hand, reaching for his face to pinch his cheek. “Does my otouto have a crush on someone? Do tell!”

She seemed to be missing the point that this was bothering him just a bit. But oh well. At least she hadn't stood up in disgust or walked away from the table. Kisuke supposed he'd rather this reaction to one of being abandoned. Though he hadn't believed for one second that Yoruichi would discard their relationship. If she could take the fact that their mother had not only slept with a man outside her marriage but had a son by him, there was little Kisuke could do that would bother her.

“I'm not going to tell you his name,” he retorted, nudging his bowl hopefully in her direction. He was still under an experiment after all. “I know you'll just track him down and threaten him or something.”

Judging by the glint in her eyes, Yoruichi was considering just that. Kisuke had better keep all descriptive bits to a minimum to lessen the chance of her finding Yamada-senpai. It was just a crush for cripes sake. It wasn't like Kisuke was in love with the guy or anything. He just happened to find Yamada-senpai's awkwardness and shyness attractive. As well as his big blue eyes and tiny shoulders.

Clearing his throat, Kisuke returned to the conversation at hand.

“He's a sixth-year at the Academy, and I've only run into him a few times.”

Yoruichi giggled. Actually giggled all girly-like and everything. Kisuke hadn’t even known she could do that.

“Are you going to chase after him, Ki-chan?”

His brow furrowed. “When would I have time to do that?” he asked with another hopeful bump of his bowl.

She rolled her eyes and gestured a member of the staff over. Shaking their empty sake jug for emphasis.

“Honestly, Ki-chan, there's more to life than your inventions and studying.” She shook her head. “Even if you do want to prove Shunsui-san and Ukitake-taichou's faith in you.” Her lips curved into an enlightened smirk. “Especially Ukitake.”

Kisuke flushed at her knowing tone. “They're taking a risk for me. Of course, I want to prove that they didn't make a mistake,” he argued just as a bottle magically appeared and plunked on their table.

“And something tells me it's just a bit more than that,” Yoruichi declared loftily, swooping in and grabbing the jug before Kisuke could so much as reach for it. Honestly, her speed amazed him sometimes. “Have you even kissed anyone yet?”

“Not counting that one time you and Kuukaku made me kiss Byakuya?” Kisuke demanded.

But even as he fought it, his mind took him back. Back, back to a history that he was also blaming for his recent Sexual Identity Crisis.

"Oh, come on!" Kuukaku exclaimed, a look of devilish glee on her face, and really, Kisuke had never hated her more than in that moment. "A proper kiss. Open mouths. Or we tell everyone about Sweetcheeks-san!"

Byakuya reddened. His eyes skipped to Kisuke in mortification before anger blossomed in his cheeks.

"That threat doesn't work on me," Kisuke countered. Palms sweaty and heart beating a fast rhythm in his chest.

How could they have lost the bet? No, more than that. Why did he and Byakuya believe that they could beat these two she-devils in disguise! The bet had to have been rigged!

"But I know other stuff that will," Yoruichi challenged with a hand on her hip. Golden eyes gleamed dangerously, and Kisuke swallowed.

She was such a demon.

He turned towards Byakuya, licking his lips nervously. The noble tilted his head back, trying to appear proud though he was still a few inches shorter than Kisuke. Slim and pretty, like a girl.

“The Kuchiki would never back down from a challenge,” Byakuya said. But his voice hitched a little there, entirely bravado.

Which pretty much sealed it right there. If Byakuya wasn't going to back down, then Kisuke couldn't either. Not without looking like a coward.

He glanced at Kuukaku and Yoruichi. The two demons watching with twin expressions of pure evil.

“Come on, boys. We don't have all day now!” Yoruichi declared, clapping her hands together.

“Just make it quick,” Kisuke muttered.

Byakuya harrumphed. And before Kisuke could so much as plan an attack or figure out how he was supposed to do this, Byakuya grabbed his face with a pair of slender hands. Kisuke stared wide-eyed as the other boy's face moved closer. And then, their lips touched. Open-mouthed as the girls had commanded with Byakuya's breath smelling faintly of peppermint.

Heat stole into Kisuke's cheeks. And his stomach did an interesting little flip as he caught sight of Byakuya so close. He'd never closed his own eyes. So instead, he could see just how pale and smooth Byakuya's face was. And how long and dark his eyelashes were.

Byakuya drew away, leaving Kisuke to gape at him. And the two girls dissolved into amused titters. The Kuchiki noble's nose was pink, but otherwise, he looked unruffled. And Kuukaku strode right up to Kisuke, slapping him across the back with one palm, grinning like mad.

"Just be glad we didn't say you had to use tongue."

Yoruichi's laughter dragged him out of the memory as she skillfully poured them both some sake and clinked their bowls together. She smirked as though knowing exactly what he was thinking.

“Just admit it, Ki-chan. You didn't hate it.”

Of course he hadn't. But that wasn't the point here.

“That was my first kiss,” he muttered instead, gesturing towards her with her bowl and making some of the alcohol slosh out onto his fingers. “And you made me give it to Byakuya!”

She lifted a brow. “There are worst people to kiss.” Yoruichi's lips curved into a wide smirk even as she plucked the bowl from his hand. “I could have made you smooch Isshin. Or Kuukaku. Which would’ve been funnier.”

Kisuke wrinkled his nose. “Kuukaku is a she-demon. And Kuchiki-fukutaichou is not my type,” he said, thinking of Hanatarou. “He's not small and cute. Like Yamada-senpai.”

Yoruichi sat forward eagerly. “Oh? Is that his name?”

And Kisuke felt a bit like banging his head on the table. Damn the sake for loosening his lips. He was in for it now.

- - -

Thieves in Rukongai. The very same people his father had always tried to help, and they’d been the ones to do him in. It was hard for Kisuke to believe that Urahara Takuya could be defeated by something so mundane, but the truth stared him in the face. A handful of thieves from Rukongai. Now, Kisuke was fatherless. A real and true orphan.

First, a mother he’d never met. Then, a dead father.

He sighed and tugged at the collar to his fancy attire, knowing that he was supposed to wear this for the funeral but hating the stuffy feeling of it. There was a burning at the back of his eyes, and an itching in his throat, but Kisuke ignored them. He was supposed to be strong here, not fall apart. He was a man now. Recently graduated from the Academy and soon to join a division.

Behind him, the door opened without so much as a knock. Kisuke glanced into the mirror to see who’d entered. And his shoulders slumped in relief as an orange scarf unraveled to reveal the face of his sister.

“Ki-chan,” she murmured, eyes dark with sorrow.

For Kisuke and for Takuya, whom she had befriended. Who had been like a father to her, too. Far more than just the man her mother had loved.

“Aneue,” he breathed.

And by the gods, it had been years since he had called her that. But something about the circumstances demanded that familiarity. Kisuke craved it.

“I didn't think you'd make it.”

“Do you think so little of me?” She pouted and pulled the door shut behind her to step further into the room.

Kisuke shook his head. “I know the Shihouin have been restrictive lately,” he explained, well aware that those attempts were also failing miserably.

His sister was the wind. She couldn't be bottled up no matter what those old fogeys attempted or wanted. No matter how they tried to cage her. Throw offers of marriage in her face. If he hadn’t been her brother, Kisuke would almost think that she’d marry him if only to spite the Shihouin.

“Like that'd stop me,” Yoruichi put in with a snort. She came to a stop beside him, hand falling on his shoulder and squeezing. “We're family, Ki-chan.”

His fingers hopelessly entangled in his obi, Kisuke took a deep breath. He was taller than her now. But some part of him was still that little boy she’d met all those years ago. The boy that she’d glomp onto and pull into her lap whenever she wanted just because she could. A part of him missed that. Missed that she could wrap her arm around his shoulder and rest her head on his. That his father would just laugh at both of them and ruffle his hair. That Yoruichi would bait him until he gave up completely on propriety and ruffled hers, too. Takuya had probably been the only adult to ever do that to her. None of the Shihouin or their retainers would’ve dared.

But Takuya, his father, had dared a lot of things. Had dared to love a woman not his wife. Had dared to create a child with her, a son. Had dared to raise that child without her. Had dared to accept Yoruichi into their makeshift family after both of her own parents were dead. Had dared drag Kuukaku and Byakuya in as well.

He’d been a brave man. Brave if somewhat foolish. But kind and funny and smart. And Kisuke knows he wasn’t the only one who wondered how things could’ve been different. What would’ve happened if Shihouin Sujin had thrown out his wife that night and not just her son, something that was well within his rights. Yoruichi wouldn’t have been able to come with her, not unless he took it in mind that she might not have been his either. But it was still a game they’d played when it was just the two of them. A private little fantasy. Life if it had been the four of them. Takuya and Kaori. Yoruichi and Kisuke. A perfect little family with none of the Shihouin nonsense.

Would either he or his sister have become Shinigami then? Probably not. But would it have mattered? No. Not at all.

But that fantasy was well and truly shattered now, wasn’t it? It had already been broken before they’d dreamed it up – their mother was dead after all. But there’d still been his father. Still been Takuya to act like a parent for both of them. There was no one there for him now but his sister.

“You’re all that I have left now,” he murmured then, and the realization squeezed something inside of him.

He'd never gotten to meet his mother. His father was gone now, too. All he had left was his sister, and he couldn't even claim her out loud.

That hurt in ways Kisuke couldn't express.

“We have each other,” Yoruichi corrected with a sad smile.

Before Kisuke could protest, she pulled him into her embrace. Attempting to tuck his head under her chin and failing miserably now that he stood much taller than her.

And Kisuke remembered that like himself, his sister was very much alone. Their mother had died; her father had passed some time ago. And he felt a bit like a jerk for forgetting that and getting caught up in his own sorrows.

He lifted his arms, wrapping them around her. Letting her comfort him when he hadn't been there to comfort her. Admittedly, he'd just been a kid and hadn't known. But still, he would’ve done this if he'd had the chance.

“I hope you brought a disguise,” Kisuke murmured, eyes sliding closed as he absorbed the warmth his sister offered him.

She chuckled, though it was half-hearted. “Of course I did, silly.” She rubbed her cheek against his in a cat-like gesture. “Though honestly, everyone saw me here often enough that it shouldn't be an issue.”

Yoruichi fell silent then. Regretful. And she sighed before he could question her.

“Bya-bo won't be able to make it. Or Kuukaku,” she added in a soft voice. “They’re both covering for me. We’re supposed to be going to this big shindig the Kasumioji are throwing. One of those boring as hell weddings.”

Kisuke took a moment to digest that.

“I’m sorry,” he said then, but he couldn’t be sure if he really meant it or not. “I know that they’re family.”

“They’re your family, too,” Yoruichi reminded him, squeezing all that much tighter around his middle. “They might not acknowledge it. But at least a few of them know you exist. They don’t know your name or what you look like, but they know that our mother’s second child is still alive. If they weren’t such bastards, they would’ve been in your life, too. Would’ve come out to see you. But not even our bitch of an aunt would do that.”

Kisuke felt more than saw his sister roll her eyes. Just like her could feel the anger coiling in her reiatsu.

“She’s the one who’s supposed to be getting married today,” Yoruichi told him, face pressed into his shoulder. “To some weak-willed moron. They’re supposed to be taking over the headship of the family next year. And will probably spawn a dozen kids just as spoiled and pretentious as them. Not that I care or anything.” She sniffed then, but it would’ve been more effectively had her nose not sounded so congested.

“If you don’t care, then I don’t care,” he responded. Kisuke felt her fingers dig into his back, a sure show that she was more affected than she was letting on.

Family was a touchy subject. Some of it more so than other parts. The way that their mother’s family had treated her was a sore spot in particular for Yoruichi. Kaori had been the oldest daughter by far, but she hadn’t had the head for or interest in politics. She’d been too soft for most of the Gotei 13, too. Though Takuya had said that she’d been very skilled at kidoh and had been quite a healer in her own right. She probably would’ve done well in the fourth division if her family would’ve been willing to let her join. Instead, they’d chosen to bargain her away in a marriage, trading her looks and promising reiatsu to the Shihouin for some political clout. They’d done much the same to their next daughter, shipping her off to the Shiba in a very similar move.

And now, Kaori’s youngest sibling was getting married, too. An aunt who was barely older than Kisuke himself and who he’d never so much as seen in passing; he didn’t even know her name. He could only wonder if she’d been traded away much like her oldest sisters. He doubted it though. Especially if she was about to become the head of the traditionally female-ruled Kasumioji. It’d probably been her idea in the first place.

Not that it mattered. Not that she mattered. She or the rest of the Kasumioji. As Yoruichi had said, they most likely knew Kaori’s second child had lived. Sujin wouldn’t have let something like the infidelity of his wife go completely; he would’ve complained to her parents at the very least. Done something to take his embarrassment out on them. They had to know that Kisuke was out there somewhere, and if they’d really wanted to find him, they could have. But they hadn’t.

“I don’t care about them,” Kisuke restated, and it was much firmer this time. “They’re nothing to me.”

“Me either,” Yoruichi agreed and exhaled slowly. She was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry about Bya-bo and Kuukaku though,” she whispered into his neck now. “Sorry that they couldn’t make it. You know they would’ve come if they could. But Ginrei would have Byakuya’s head. And Kuukaku’s uncle is making noises about finding her a husband, too.”

And wasn’t that a scary thought? Kisuke pitied the man roped into marrying that she-demon. He probably wouldn’t survive the wedding night.

Kisuke couldn’t quite contain his snicker. Which he followed by holding that much tighter onto his sister.

“It’s alright,” he assured her. “As long as you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

She laughed, but it was a wet sound. Like she was trying not to cry.

“For you, otouto… Always.”

******

AN: Aneue = big sister

I don’t know when the next piece will be out, but I promise, there are definitely four more parts to this. And I won’t be going into slashy, lemony territory either. This story is meant to focus on Urahara and Yoruichi not anything romantic.

Thanks for reading!