Chapter Text
When it happened, it was entirely accidental. A brush of the back of Kisuke's knuckles against Kurosaki's neck as he dodged just enough to avoid the attack during their training, and then they were leaping apart and staring at each other, wide-eyed.
It was nearly inconceivable that it was the first time they’d touched skin-to-skin, but there’d always been a layer of cloth between them before; Tessai had been the one to tend to Kurosaki’s wounds when he’d brought him back to the Shouten.
Kisuke'd always heard that he would instinctively understand when he first made skin contact with his soulmate; he just never thought he would actually experience it.
It felt like…like he’d just discovered what emotions were. Like there was a sudden new dimension to his perception of the world; nothing had changed in the information his senses were collecting, but it was as if all of a sudden he was experiencing it for the first time. He felt simultaneously more settled than he’d ever been and incredibly restless. He wanted, he wanted to go to his soulmate. He had never imagined he could be so happy.
There was a sinking feeling in his gut once the bright euphoria faded. Surely not. Surely fate wouldn't be so unkind to this young man, this boy, to leave him stuck with Kisuke as a soulmate. Not after everything Kisuke had done to him, and had yet to do.
Not when he knew immediately that this wouldn’t change those plans at all.
Kurosaki was staring at him. He looked wary—good, some sense at least—and confused. Kisuke met his eyes. His expression turned...determined. Resolute. More or less how he looked whenever he'd faced up against something new these past few days.
That was…less good. If he decided to push this…
“We have two days, Kurosaki-san,” Kisuke said after a long moment of silence. Kurosaki nodded, that focused look back in his eyes at the reminder of his responsibility, of the impending execution of the Kuchiki girl.
“Right,” he said, and his fist clenched on his zanpakutou as he shifted to attack again.
~*~
They didn’t speak about it, and Kisuke was so grateful for Kurosaki’s intense focus. He had a mission in front of him and he was going to see it through, no matter what personal matters came up.
As would Kisuke.
So he sent Kurosaki back to his family after their ten days were up, and he focused his attention on making the Senkaimon to Soul Society.
It would be better for Kurosaki if they didn’t acknowledge this. He probably shouldn’t have continued training with the boy; he could feel the bond strengthening the more time they spent with each other. And Kurosaki was shockingly good at battle analytics; not nearly at Kisuke’s level, of course, but much better than he thought the boy would be. He knew Kurosaki would be gleaning more from their sparring than he wanted him to.
Better to send him off with the Inoue girl.
No.
No, he couldn’t even think about that aspect of the soulmate relationship. There were plenty of platonic soulmate pairs, people who had romantic relationships entirely outside of their bond. Even if—if—they ever got to the point of accepting the bond, surely no fate, no god would be so unkind as to saddle Kurosaki with Kisuke for that aspect.
He was a child. Literally. Aside from the difference in their ages, aside from everything Kisuke had already done to him, had yet to do to him, he was a child, with a child’s understanding of the world, so easily manipulated…
Moot point. Kurosaki wouldn’t ever accept the bond. He was far too likely to learn far too much about Kisuke on this venture, and then he’d never want to even speak to him again when he came back, let alone…
So.
Kisuke worked, and eventually his work finished. He sent word to the children he was sending to the slaughter.
He gave them their last instructions, avoiding Kurosaki’s eyes the whole time. He wanted to tell Yoruichi to take care of them, to take care of him, but then she would know. Or guess. And with Yoruichi guessing and knowing were much the same.
So he wore his accustomed mask and smiled like a fool and wished them all luck.
But he let himself have one indulgence, one moment of meeting Kurosaki’s eyes and letting the mask slip for just a second.
Ichigo returned his look, and nodded seriously. There was a smile hiding in the corners of his mouth.
He meant it to be reassuring, Kisuke could see.
It wasn’t until their group went through the gate and Tessai turned his back that Kisuke reached out a hand and actually allowed himself to think—not say out loud, because then Tessai might hear, and he was near as bad as Yoruichi for knowing Kisuke—
Good luck, Ichigo.
~*~
Kisuke was brought very abruptly to the realization that Kurosaki’s life hadn’t been in true peril since they’d discovered their bond only a few hours into the rescue attempt.
He’d known, of course, that the empathic link between them was instant at the moment they’d first touched, and it had really only grown in the few days they’d had together. He could feel Kurosaki’s presence, and his relative location and distance when he wasn’t there. It was odd when he’d left the Human World for Soul Society, it sort of fuzzed out, but he could still feel that Kurosaki was there.
He’d known he’d be able to feel it if Kurosaki was on the verge of death, and he’d known that it would hurt.
But he was totally unprepared for the way it felt as though he was being crushed, as though all his organs were liquifying, as though he couldn’t breathe.
And that was nothing to the devastation.
He had assumed that the emotional toll he’d read about was due to the close relationships soulmates naturally shared, but this…this went beyond any attachment he might’ve already formed with Kurosaki. And maybe if this was going to happen anyway, he should stop lying to himself and admit that there was a relationship there, if only a shallow one. That he’d grown fond of the boy, that he’d been impressed by the way he threw himself into the job of being a Shinigami, that he’d just liked the grumpy teen when he’d managed to interact with him face-to-face.
He’d been hoping to remain objective, but he should have known from the moment of that thunderclap of sensation when he’d first brushed his bare skin against Kurosaki’s that objectivity would be entirely gone.
And the sensation was already passing—considering the Dangai, it would be difficult to say exactly when the incident that led to Kurosaki almost dying had taken place, and how long it had gone on for.
It was enough to know that Kurosaki was alive. Kisuke knew him well enough to know that; as long as he was alive, he would keep fighting.
And Yoruicihi might not know the personal aspect, but she certainly knew of Kisuke’s plans for the boy he was forging into a weapon; she knew how important he was to Aizen’s defeat. She wouldn’t let him die, not now.
These emotions were throwing him off; it was so strangely soothing to repeat that to himself, that Kurosaki was alive, that he would get stronger, that he wouldn’t, couldn’t die.
But there was always more work to be doing, always more preparations to be making.
Kisuke got back to work and pretended it wasn’t a distraction from feelings he didn’t want to admit.
~*~
It happened again, hours later. The pain of his soulmate’s near-death. It was briefer, not quite as intense—perhaps Kurosaki was less injured, not quite as close to the edge, though it still must have been serious—but it happened again and Kisuke was so grateful he was alone in his lab because his composure was beginning to crack.
He’d known it would be dangerous. He’d understood the risks, far better than those children ever had, and it had been his choice to send them into it. His choice to send Kurosaki into it. His choice to endanger his soulmate.
Kisuke clenched his fist until his nails bit into his palms and raised his head. He’d really been out of it for a second; he’d ended up sort of huddled against the wall of his lab.
This was unacceptable; Kurosaki made the greatest strides forward when he was on the verge of death. Kisuke couldn’t have a breakdown every time it happened, because it would be happening again.
He was being foolish.
He’d just gotten back to his work—kidou today, refining one of his backup options to deal with Aizen—when Tessai knocked on his lab door.
Yoruichi had sent word from Soul Society. The Kuchiki girl had been saved, but Aizen had taken the Hougyoku. A mixed outcome; he could admit he’d been outmaneuvered on that issue. He’d acted too hastily for once in seizing the opportunity that had presented itself in the girl’s loss of power.
Her transformation into a human and eventual death was an acceptable loss; perhaps he was monstrous for thinking that way, but he didn’t think she would have suffered. She’d been acclimating to the Human World quite well; the guilt for that decision was hardly noticeable in comparison to what he already bore. But the total destruction of her soul was a crime he was very glad he didn’t have to carry.
And now Aizen had the thing Kisuke had been successfully keeping from him for over a century now. And he really had no one but himself to blame for it.
At least Aizen had revealed himself; Kisuke could never fool himself into thinking that meant he and the Visored would be cleared and welcomed back immediately, but the Captain Commander and Gotei 13 might be willing to actually work with him, which could prove useful. Yoruichi’s message had been very bare-bones, but Kisuke would be shocked if she hadn’t come to the same conclusion and already started discreet negotiations of one sort or another.
Finally, the news that Kurosaki was indeed alive, though of course Kisuke had known that already, and had achieved Bankai, which unfortunately hadn’t done much of anything to help him when he attacked Aizen.
Kisuke managed to control his reaction to that news with great difficulty; Tessai knew of Kurosaki’s importance to his plans so he was able to play it off as slight dismay, though he had been half-expecting it.
Perhaps it was for the best that Kurosaki got to see Aizen’s strength first-hand. But it left too much to chance, and to Aizen’s whims, for Kisuke to have wanted this to happen. It was relying on Aizen to already appreciate how vast Kurosaki’s potential was, which was what Kisuke had been planning on to keep him from killing the boy outright while he could, but in the face of a direct attack he hadn’t been completely sure that would be enough to stay his hand.
The other children were all right as well; that news didn’t prompt the visceral relief that knowing Kurosaki was all right did, but Kisuke was still glad to hear it. He might be willing to send them into danger but he would hardly revel at their deaths; it was just that the situation was far too dire not to begin cultivating whatever resources he could. And he’d given them more of a choice than he’d ever given Kurosaki.
The note concluded with the information that they planned to spend a week in Soul Society to recover; Kisuke could hardly begrudge Yoruichi that much, not when he was the reason she’d been away from her home, from her position, from her family.
And anyway, he could probably use the time to figure out how to approach Kurosaki about what the boy had learned about Kisuke and his plans. Because his first impulse was to come clean and tell the truth, and quite aside from how foreign an impulse that was and how disastrously it would end, most of the secrets still held weren’t exactly Kisuke’s to tell.
But he surprised himself by how much he found he wanted to see Kurosaki safe and sound for himself. Even given the time dilation, it was going to be a long few days.