Work Text:
“Oh no.”
Ichigo stares helplessly at the third dragon loitering in their yard like a giant nestling. She has no scales, just soft, pink skin and some fluff around her chest, head and tail. She’s not quite as impressive as the dragon’s he’s seen, but her docile personality makes up for it.
“No, I can’t take you in too,” he protests weakly, even as the dragon gives a broken purr and nuzzles into his chest. His heart melts and his defenses shatter as his hands come to cradle the dragon’s(?) bird skull-like head. “Oh, great. Dad’s gonna kill me.”
He heads back inside with the new addition. Isshin pokes his head out from the clinic, eyebrows climbing to his hairline. “I know I said no more dragons , but I refuse to have something so ugly-”
The dragon screeches and takes a jab at Isshin, who ducks quick enough that he only loses a few top hairs.
“She’s a dragon,” Ichigo reassures, patting her side. The pink skin feels like a newborn bird, but he’s sure she’s a dragon. He can feel it somehow. “I’m naming her Elly, we’re going upstairs.”
He ambles to his room with Elly on his heels. She makes some weird quiet screeches and flickers in and out of view sometimes, but she’s already growing on Ichigo. He must be getting soft.
Mamoru and his mother, which had been dubbed Satsuki (with the characters for gale/storm and princess), crane their necks to see Ichigo and his new addition. Both hiss softly, obviously wary of the third dragon. Elly hisses back, tucking her head in the crook of his neck like a claim.
“Hey, none of that,” Ichigo chides, closing his room door. He pads over to the bed, letting Mamoru scamper up his outstretched arm. He’s getting a little bigger, but Ichigo doesn’t mind. He’s like a Main Coon at the heaviest. “If you’re staying with me, you all need to get along.”
Mamoru and Satsuki give him a morose look, but they shoot Elly a synchronized look of distrust. Ichigo bops Mamoru on the head. “Look, until Elly decides where she wants to go, she’s here to stay. Be nice, you two.”
Elly makes a warbling sound that he registers as laughing. He shoots her a sharp look, though his smile is amused. “That goes for you too.”
Getting three dragons to cooperate under his roof sounded near impossible, but hell if Ichigo was going to turn one out of the house. They’d just have to get used to each other.
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
Everything is fixed after a quick flight in Soul Society. When the freedom to roam in the sky and the tentative camaraderie, shaky bonds slide into place as they form a strange pack.
The shinigami have come to terms with his strange penchant for attracting dangerous strays and his erratic behavior, so it doesn’t faze them when there’s a third dragon in the sky.
What does actually change is that he receives a summon from a jigokucho telling him to see the captain-commander. Ichigo shrugs off the abnormality of it and nudges Satsuki towards the building.
In less than a minute, Satsuki’s hovering around the balcony of Yamamoto’s floor. Ichigo hops off and waves her away with his customary “Don’t cause any trouble” before heading inside. Mamoru squeaks at him indignantly before Satsuki flies off.
He knocks, waits for his invitation, and walks inside.
He’s not the only one inside the office. A blond boy is inside holding a fluffy white dog in his arms. He looks like he’s about to piss his pants, arms holding the dog trembling.
“What’s up?” His blatant disregard for the situation is noted, but unaddressed. It seems to put the stranger at ease.
“Kurosaki Ichigo,” Yamamoto rumbles, gesturing for him to take a seat. “I have a task for you.”
That’s new. Yamamoto usually hated getting him involved.
“Are you aware of the West Branch of Soul Society?” Yamamoto continues as Ichigo settles next to the blond. The dog in his arms gives a huff and a startling high-pitched “I want panties!” and then a hissed, “Osushi-chan.”
Ichigo leans away from the not-a-dog thing
“I’ve only heard of them,” Ichigo admits, perusing through recent memories. He remembers catching a few Western dressed people in Soul Society every once in a while, and other shinigami sometimes talk about them and dragons. “Reverse London, or something like that.”
“Correct.” Yamamoto rumbles. “Parks Balgo has… accidently found himself in the Eastern Branch as a result of his companion.
Ichigo pieces together what Yamamoto’s trying to say. “You want me to take him back to Reverse London.”
“Are you willing to complete the task, substitute shinigami?”
He’s no fool. Yamamoto always hated bringing him into Gotei business, but now this was delving into Ichigo’s draconic companions. Ichigo knows Yamamoto’s giving him a way out by reminding him he’s not obligated to them.
“Why not,” Ichigo shrugs. “I’ve always wanted to check it out.”
Yamamoto hums. “Depart by the end of tomorrow. Bring Urahara with you. Your combat capabilities are impressive, but your negotiating skills require one with a much finer tongue.”
He feels like he should feel insulted at the subtle jab, but they both know Ichigo has little talent in speaking nicely. He’s not smart enough to compete in the field when people like geniuses Urahara and Aizen exist.
When Ichigo doesn’t ask any questions, he adds a few more things before he dismisses them. Which is the reason why Balgo is sitting in Urahara’s shop, looking mildly uncomfortable.
“So, are you dead?”
Ichigo hrrks water down the wrong pipe and coughs. Yoruichi slaps his back in a way that tells him she’s doing it because she thinks it’s funny rather than trying to help him.
“No,” he wheezes, narrowing his eyes at the cat-like woman sitting in between Urahara and him. “I’m an exception.”
Balgo is inquisitive in all the worst ways. Osushi, the dog-dragon, is even worse. Half an hour ago, Osushi set his beady little eyes on Yoruichi’s barely-clothed figure, screamed panties, and made a beeline for her cooch as he sprouted leathery black wings to aid him in his efforts.
It was simultaneously the funniest and most terrifying thing he’s ever seen, and it took six of them, including Jinta and Ururu, to catch the thing and keep him in Balgo’s grip at all times.
Osushi’s exactly like Kon, but cuter.
It isn’t until Balgo looks as though he’s about to pass out that Urahara dives into business. “Tomorrow evening at 7:00, we’ll depart, “ he announces, fanning his face languidly. Balgo nods, decides this was it, and actually passes out on the table, snoring and drooling away. “Leave the dragons, especially Elly, at home, Kurosaki-kun.”
“She won’t like that.” Ichigo grimaces, already despairing over Elly’s mournful look. Mamoru and Satsuki have more or less gotten used to him leaving for school, but they still give him mournful looks each morning. Elly was still a little new to the game. “She might even try to follow me. Can’t keep a dragon in one place, you know.”
“You’ll have to do your best,” Urahara says. It’s a testament to how serious he is when Ichigo can’t detect an ounce of teasing. “For everyone’s safety, you must keep Elly here.”
“Is there something I need to know?” Ichigo asks warily. “Why Elly, specifically?”
“Oh, you know,” Urahara says flippantly. He won’t meet his eyes, so Ichigo turns up his we-talked-about-this face and he caves in. “Oh, well, I’ll tell you after.”
“Just bring Elly to the bunker,” Yoruichi inputs, swirling her sake. It’s cheap liquor, but she drinks it by the bottle as though it were Kuchiki-grade alcohol. “We can handle her. Satsuki and Mamoru can rough house all they want down there too.”
“Are you sure?” He wouldn’t normally ask this of his mentor, but she had never been alone with Elly without him. Dragons were a lot different than reckless shinigamis.
“You doubting me, boy?” Yoruichi narrows her eyes playfully. “By the time you come back, I’ll have Elly eating out of the palm of my hand. Just you watch.”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender, committing her words to memory so he can come back and say “I told you so”. “Alright, then. I’ll bring Elly to the bunker tomorrow.”
“Great!” Kisuke says loudly, startling Balgo from his slumber. He hadn’t had any alcohol, but he must have been exhausted, because he only mumbles a little and falls right back asleep. “Everything’s been settled. So everybody, go to sleep.”
It’s the conclusion to their conversation, as disgruntled as Ichigo is. He says his goodbyes and hauls himself home with a lazy-paced shunpo. He goes through the window and is greeted by three dragons, all sitting on his new bed (they broke the other one with their roughhousing), curled like three macaronis.
Ichigo slides in and accepts a gentle headbutt from Elly, Mamoru and Satsuki climbing into his lap like overgrown dogs. It’s a heavy warmth that makes him smile even as he chides them to give him some breathing room.
It isn’t until he’s settling down with all three dragons cuddled close that the bad thoughts begin to sink in. He wonders how Elly will take not being able to come with him?
────── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ──────
Elly takes it horribly.
She howls and cries terribly, eyes narrowed with despair and grief as though she watched her kin die in front of her. Ichigo pats her head. “We’ll be right back,” he reassures, pleads, even. His ears are ringing. “Look, Elly.”
He opens his hand and feeds her a strawberry. “They have fresh, ripe strawberries for you, alright? Lots of big, juicy strawberries, for all for you guys.”
Elly trills quietly, settling down, but not without giving him a doleful look. Ichigo smiles weakly. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Just play with Yoruichi and the others. It’ll be like I never left. Can you do that for me?”
Elly hums lowly, obviously dejected. Her head droops and her eyes squeeze out a crystal tear. Ichigo’s heart clenches and he has to close his eyes before he caves in again. Satsuki and Mamoru only give him a sad look before letting out a low rumble. They’ve already had their goodbyes.
“Alright, good girl,” he praises, stroking the metal-like crown on her head. He’s sure it’s organic (because what living creature had metal on their body), but it feels like metal. “Be nice, Elly. I’ll see you later.”
Urahara, Ichigo, and Balgo take a step through the Senkaimon equipped to take a human through, coming out on the other side to see Renji. He raises his tattooed brow at Balgo. “That’s the Dragonclad?”
“I don’t know what that is, but sure,” Ichigo shrugs, stepping closer. “How are we getting to Reverse London?”
“You’ve never been to the Western Branch, have you?” Renji says, realization dawning on his face. It’s quickly squashed by disinterest. “It’s not all that amazing besides the dragon bits. Even those don’t happen too often. Sometimes you can see the officers on their broombuggies though.”
“You never answered my question,” Ichigo deadpans. He follows Renji anyways. “And what the hell is a broombuggy?”
“It’s a flying dragon broom,” Renji replies enthusiastically, obviously willing to show off his knowledge, but still not answering his question .
“Ahem,” Urahara says, literally going “ahem” into his fist. “To Kurosaki-kun’s unanswered question, the Western and Eastern Branches have established a gateway for officers to travel inside without having to fly or shunpo.”
“Cool, so a Senkaimon,” Ichigo surmises. He catches Urahara’s little mock-aggravated sigh and smiles.
“You have a great talent in simplifying explanations,” Urahara replies wryly.
Balgo laughs nervously. “So, um, we’re gonna go through another portal?”
“Yeah.” Ichigo glances back at the boy curiously. “What, didn’t like the Senkaimon?”
“Ah, no?”
“That’s okay,” Ichigo waves his hand indifferently. “You’ll get used to it.”
Renji brings them to a different looking Senkaimon, one that looks like an actual wooden door with iron hinges. It’s just innocuously sitting in a stone wall like a normal door, but he can feel the strange aura wafting from the closed door.
“It’s not much to look at,” Renji shrugs, eyeing Osushi, “but it’ll take you straight to Reverse London. Just walk inside. I’ve been told you have two escorts waiting for you.”
“Great.” Ichigo goes first with Balgo following right after him. There’s a little pressure and a lot of darkness, but he keeps walking until he steps into the only light source available.
It’s a little bit jarring to go from night to day. Ichigo blinks the spots from his vision, squinting against the sun.
“Wow, is he really Japanese?” It’s in English, probably assuming he doesn’t speak any. Unfortunately for them-
“I’m actually Japanese,” he sighs, side-eyeing the blonde girl he said that. She resembles Hiyori a little bit, with all that sass and snark. “And yes, my hair color is natural.”
Beside him, Osushi’s going wild, chirping about panties. Balgo looks mortified as he tries to keep a hold on Osushi.
“Now, now, Kurosaki-kun,” Urahara sings, stepping out from the door. Rather, it resembles a Senkaimon from Reverse London’s side, which makes the door in Seireitei make sense. He speaks in English, probably for the benefit of the escorts. “Don’t be so snippy.”
“I’ll be less snippy when I’m back in Japan,” Ichigo sighs. He glances at the two girls. “What’re your names?”
“Noel Niihashi,” the black-haired one responds stoically. She actually reminds him of a female version of Byakuya. They both wore green uniforms with a holster attached to their thigh. A red and black checkered cape(?) was slung across their back, an Aries symbol embroidered with golden thread. A division, maybe. “My partner is Ninny Spangcole.”
“Don’t go introducing me for me!” Ninny shrieks, tossing a pigtail behind her shoulder. With a hip cocked to the side, she gestures towards them. “What about you guys?”
“Kuro- ah, Ichigo Kurosaki,” he says, fumbling over the name order. He doesn’t really mind people using his given name. Kurosaki made him think of his father anyways.
“Kisuke Urahara, at your service,” the shinigami bows his head with a surreptitious smile. “Shall we get going? I would like to get through that paperwork before evening falls.”
That long to do paperwork for one accident? Ichigo groans inwardly, but follows the girls.
Balgo instantly tags along with Noel, but stops with a strange look on his face. “How’re we going to all fit on two broombuggies?”
“Don’t worry about us,” Urahara smiles, waving his hand. “We’ll run.”
The look on their face is worth more than Ninny’s snarkiness. They reassure them again, watch them take off on their broombuggies, and then flash step right behind them. It was a difficult pace to set. It was either a hard sprint or the slowest hoho they could manage, which was about as difficult as it sounds.
It wasn’t until Ninny picked up on it that she went full speed. From there, the shunpo was a breeze and the entirety of the trip took less than ten minutes.
Ninny and Noel slow to a stop in front of two more people, one man and one woman. The man was horrifyingly similar to Grimmjow, but he wore a black shirt with a skull that looked somewhat like Pesche’s mask. His hair was black with a blue stripe running through his forelocks. The woman was dressed more militaristically with a dark suit and black boots, complete with a saber at her hip.
“Thank you, Noel, Ninny.” The woman speaks first. This was definitely a figure of authority, Ichigo guesses. The way she dresses, as well as the way she speaks, screams leader. He guesses the other one must be a leader as well, like a captain in the Gotei 13.
“Talk about a bad dye job.” Ichigo probably wasn’t meant to hear that, but a few of his hollow traits granted him extra slight abilities. He narrowed in on the man.
“It’s all natural, asshole.” Ichigo crosses his arms. It shouldn’t jilt him so much, but he’s gotten so much flak over his hair color that years of bitterness resurface. “If you wanna talk about a bad dye job, you should look in the mirror.”
Literally twenty minutes in Reverse London and he’s already making enemies. He hears Urahara sigh behind him and can almost see the head shake. Well, it’s nothing new, considering most of the friends he has now, had tried to kill him before.
Concrete within a five feet radius of the man cracked with an electrifying crackle in the air. He doesn’t have to be able to sense reiatsu to know this man was extremely pissed off. He tilts his head slightly, challenging.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect your elders?”
Ichigo snaps.
But not before someone else does.
The roars that answer his rage are so achingly familiar, he relaxes against Urahara’s hold, which he hadn’t realized until he was pulled back.
“Dragons!”
His heart sinks as he senses his draconic charges racing through the sky. But to his confusion (and relief), he only sees ebony and crimson, no pink skin and white fluff.
Ichigo turns his head towards the sky to see Mamoru and Satsuki landing beside him, teeth bared. The woman had her saber unsheathed and brandished, instantly on guard. The man had called out a blue dragon, the crackle of electricity appearing and centering around them.
Ninny and Noel have their gun looking weapon out and pointed at the two dragons, which actually brings his attention to the situation faster than the adults.
“Stop!” Ichigo barks out the command, watching the two girls flinch at the word. The man glances at him, almost angrily, worried even; but everything comes to a grinding halt when Ichigo reaches out a hand.
Satsuki leans her massive snout (she must have transformed into her original size to break through Seireitei) into his hand, purring a ground-shaking rumble. Mamoru comes to wrap around his neck like an oversized, living scarf.
“They’re friendly,” Ichigo reassures as Satsuki gently nuzzles her cheek against the side of his head. “They like strawberries.”
Ninny lets out a strangled noise as Ichigo reaches into the folds of his shihakusho and brings out a large strawberry. He’s been finding strawberries in all sorts of weird places, but it came in handy today. He breaks off a small piece and gives the bigger portion to Satsuki.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the man with the dragon laughed incredulously. It’s not a nice laugh and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with this.”
“Ichigo Kurosaki and Kisuke Urahara,” the woman says dangerously, hand tightening its grip on her saber. “Under Wing Bind’s guide, both of you will be put in confinement and put to trial. Your best case scenario will be imprisonment and the worst will be execution. Do not resi-”
“Now hold on just a minute,” Urahara tuts, wagging his finger. “I’ve read the entirety of Wing Bind’s rulebook regarding dragons, and unfortunately for you, Miss Squires, Mister Bangnyfe, you have no jurisdiction over Ichigo and his dragons as they’ve been dealt with in the boundaries of Seireitei. Your guide doesn’t say anything about the Eastern Branch.”
Bangnyfe–there’s no way that’s his actual name–narrows his electric eyes, obviously displeased at the chance of beating Ichigo to the ground. “The matter is that you’ve brought your dragons to Reverse London.”
“Well,” Urahara smiles. “You should be receiving a call very soon from your fellow directors.”
Coincidentally, Squires’ phone rings and she pulls it to her ear as she eyes them distrustfully. It looks a little bit like their denreishinki, another parallel between both worlds. Ichigo’s finger twitches minutely, watching Squires face contort with some small degree of distaste.
It’d be a shame to fight people so young, Ichigo thinks morosely. The girls look antsy and Balgo looks as though he might shit his pants, but that’s nothing new in the past few days he’s seen him. Bangnyfe looks like he’s going to explode with each passing minute. Just when Ichigo readies himself to reach for Zangetsu, Squires shuts the phone.
“You are free to return to Seireitei,” she says, resigned. Her face remains stoic, but Ichigo senses she’s more than disgruntled. Bangnyfe protests, loudly. She snaps back at him, “We’ve been outvoted. Take your dragons and leave. If you must return, do not bring your dragons again.”
“With pleasure,” Urahara sings, flapping his paper fan (where the hell did that come from?) and spinning Ichigo towards Satsuki. “The faster we return, the faster we can break out the good sake for a disaster averted.”
Ichigo lets himself be herded onto Satsuki’s neck. He can’t help the cocky salute towards Bangnyfe, who literally shouts an obscenity back at him. It’s so much like Grimmjow, he can’t help laughing even as they take off in the air back to the Senkaimon.
He’s in a good mood even having to complete an hour of paperwork. Ichigo hums as Satsuki touches down in front of the shop. His good mood is squashed when he sees Ururu running out from the front with a worried look on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“You have to go to the bunker!”
Ichigo and Urahara exchange dismayed looks and shunpo into the bunker. He lands in a cloud of dust and hears a raucous cacophony of screeches and shouting. There’s a massive crater in the bunker, where Tessai, Jinta, and Yoruichi are doing their best to wrangle Elly to the ground.
“Oh, Ichigo!” Yoruichi dodges a sharp peck that probably would’ve left her torso with a gaping hole. “Good. Look who it is, Elly!”
Elly stops trying to give Yoruichi a new piercing and stampedes over to Ichigo with a screech. He throws himself into the strange embrace, just barely managing to stay on his feet.
“What the hell happened here,” Ichigo asks, baffled. Elly’s pushing her face everywhere like she’s trying to inhale him. It was cute until she tried to stuff her head in his crotch area, which was a nightmare to think about with her metallic beak. “I told you I’d be back.”
“Your dragon had a massive hissy fit,” Jinta screams. The top of his head’s smoking and his eyebrows are singed. Mamoru and Satsuki, who’d shrunk to fit through the hatch, fly from the ladder and glide to Ichigo. “She was fine for an hour, and then she just went berserk.”
“Oh.” It happens to line up with the time Satsuki and Mamoru came barreling through the gateways. Urahara hums interestedly. “How curious. It seems the dragons are in tune with your emotions even through quite a distance, like a Soul Bond.”
“Well, whatever it was, I hope it was worth it,” Yoruichi grouses, looking petulant. “I had to tranquilize her, but it wore off in fifteen minutes. That was enough sedatives to bring down at least Yammy.”
“You sedated her?!”
“She’s not very happy with me right now. I lost whatever trust I had for this,” she continued, looking not at all sorry. She jabbed a finger at Urahara, who held his hands up in surrender. “You owe me sake. The good brand.”
“Was just about to get to that,” he soothes. “We have a story to tell along with it as well.”
Ichigo leaves them to their talking as he brings his dragons in close. He has no more strawberries on him (they checked thoroughly), but they continued to press in close, scales to skin as they rumbled delightedly.
“Missed you guys too,” Ichigo admits quietly, nuzzling his cheek against Mamoru from where he’s perched on his shoulders. Elly trills softly, rubbing the fur around neck against his other cheek as though to say “welcome back”.
He watches Yoruichi deck Urahara in the ribs and his day becomes exponentially better. Urahara had some explaining to do.
