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Isshin's still not quite used to how things work in the world of the living. But hey, he wasn't expecting to end up trapped here in the first place!
That being said, its not like he'd make a different decision back then. Isshin Shiba isn't some scumbag who'd let someone he owed his life to die just because he was skittish about the price.
Kisuke Urahara, enigmatic and elusive in most things, has been more than generous. Out of a sense of guilt if Isshin had to guess. He's been coaching Isshin while he settles into the Living world, helping him secure avenues to support himself and build a semi-workable life.
Occasionally, Isshin would subtly (as far as Shibas understand the concept, anyway) probe and prod away, testing the limits of what Kisuke Urahara was willing to share about his exile. There was the official line that all Shinigami knew about the arch-traitor who turned his fellow officers into guinea pigs for his research, but there's always more than than one side for every story.
With how magnanimously Kisuke Urahara's been in helping Isshin hastily cobble together a life, Isshin would very much like to sit down and have a chat with him when his situation's more stable.
The least he can do is offer an ear and listen to Urahara's story; however little he'd share.
It wouldn't do any good, especially since Isshin can't actually do anything anymore, but offering to hear out the man's grievances is the least Isshin can do. (He wonders if Kisuke is any good at holding his liquor, Isshin's in the market for a new drinking buddy.)
Kisuke can't exactly stick around forever though. He has his own little shop to run, bills to pay, mouths to feed and all that stuff.
As much as Isshin doesn't exactly like being cut adrift so soon with barely anything set up, Kisuke assured him, devious smile hidden behind that fan of his, that he'd called in a special assistant to help Isshin handle the final touches.
'Just until the training wheels are ready to come off' Kisuke told him.
Isshin would've rolled his eyes and made a quip, but he knows there's too much to do and too many things he needs to revise if he wants to run a passable clinic in the human world. Medicine and Medical Kido were about the only subjects he really paid attention to in the Shin'ou Academy (for personal reasons more than interest), and they're decent skills he can ply but he needs to stay on top of his game. And there are humans in the real world who are leagues and miles beyond his capabilities.
Shockingly, Ryuken Ishida has offered to assist (in a gruff way) by pointing Isshin in the direction of studies that'd suit the kind of clinic he wanted to run. Sadly, that's where the majority of Ryuken's generosity ended.
For now Isshin's residing in the flat just upstairs of this little corner clinic.
Its cosy.
Nothing like the Shiba compound he's used to living in, but its more than enough for him (he tries not to think about the mess he left behind, there's nothing he can do and he tells himself that Kukaku, Ganju and the others will find their feet again. He doesn't believe himself yet.).
For now, Isshin's pouring over medical textbooks, marvelling at just how outdated a huge chunk of his learning is and scrambling to relearn almost from the ground up.
And its where he remains until the bell above his front door rings and he hears the door open and close. The acoustics are good enough that the sound carriers to every part of the house, and the clinic isn't open for services yet so there's no disruptive noises to dampen its effects.
Isshin climbs from his seat, sticking a marker in the textbook and is ready to greet (and kick out) whomever blundered into his new humble abode. If its a thief, they'll be sorely disappointed - and will find themselves flat on their asses with a concussion (he doesn't have his powers, that doesn't mean he kick a regular human's ass).
"Hello?" The voice carries up to his loft and Isshin stops dead, icy fingers squeezing his heart.
That voice.
No.
Impossible. Impossible!
It belongs to a dead man.
"Is someone here?" Isshin's jaw hangs slack in disbelief as they try again to the home owner's - his attention, "Uh. Kisuke Urahara sent me if that helps any? Said someone here might need a hand sorting out some odds and ends?"
The floorboards downstairs creak as the individual seems to make his way further into the living space down stairs and Isshin hears him grumble and scoff.
"Gah. Friggin' Kisuke. Figures he'd pull a stupid stunt like this the second I'm back in town. What a waste of my time."
The wooden floorboards creak again and its enough to snap Isshin out of his stupor.
He bolts.
Breaking into a dead sprint around the corner with heavy thudding footfalls, nearly barrelling into the wall and takes the steps two or three at at time down to the living room. He trips at the last one and stumbles forward a little, but recovers in time to confront the source of that voice.
A ghost.
Kaien. Staring back at him, completely bewildered.
His nephew. His dead nephew. A boy he half-raised like his own son is impossibly alive.
Alive and standing in his doorway, dressed comfortably in human fashion. Laced boots, jeans and a black button-up shirt. There's a thick rope of scarring that cuts into the left side of his neck (Isshin remembers that wound), bisected by a string of tattooed kanji spelling out Miyako's name. The Shiba crest stands boldly on his left forearm though Isshin spies a web of scarring from the underside of his wrist to elbow.
He has no words. What can he say?
Kaien's as gobsmacked as Isshin is, but manages to recover after a minute long impromptu staring contest, wincing as he seemingly scrambles for something to say, "I, um.... suppose I should probably explain the whole 'By the way, I came back from the dead' thing, huh?"
Isshin says nothing. Just closes the gap between them, one hand clamps around his nephew's shoulder and jerks him forward, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug that Kaien reciprocates instantly. Anger and grief and relief wage war inside him. He feels tears stinging at the corner of his eyes and hears Kaien sniffling a little too.
He doesn't know how long they remained like that, clinging to each other for dear life. Or how long the tears ran down his cheeks.
But before they parted and in his best 'I might be your favourite Uncle but even I'm pissed off at you' voice, Isshin manages to push out the words through his choked up throat that makes Kaien bark out a nervous laugh.
"You are so fucking grounded."