UraIshi AU Ch. 2
Title: Unravelling Threads of Fate
Rating: PG-13 for now. May change depending on what I decide to do. XD
Pairings: UraIshi (in this chapter, only slight IchiRuki)
Summary: AU. Ishida has had a hard life. With the help of some friends, it finally looks like things are going to work out. When he meets a bizarre and cheerful man named Urahara Kisuke, the two are inexplicably drawn to each other. But when Ishida discovers the truth about Urahara's past and its ties to his own, difficulties arise.
Notes: Yes, I am odd for being so infatuated with this pairing. Here's my shot at trying to explain it in an AU. And I am determined to finish a multi-chaptered story at least ONCE. lol
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the genius KT. ♥
Chapter 1
It was late in the evening when Ishida let himself into the Kurosaki household. After having lived there for three years, he supposed he could call it “home”, but for some reason, it just didn’t feel right. The house was dark so he quietly made his way up the stairs to the room he occupied, assuming everyone was already asleep. He was just about to step through the doorway when a spiky head poked out from a door down the hall.
“Oi, Ishida.”
“Kurosaki.”
Ichigo still lived at home but not for much longer. He and Rukia had decided to move in together once they found a suitable apartment, which was proving to be difficult. They hoped to find something by the end of the year.
“Just ah… good luck tomorrow, ya know?” A hand reached out to scratch his dismembered-looking head.
Ishida adjusted his glasses in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He still wasn’t used to getting well-wishes like that. “Oh… thank you. Shouldn’t you be saying that kind of thing to Kuchiki-san instead?”
“Rukia? Nah, she’s too full of herself to need anyone to reassure her,” the boy snorted, his expression softening slightly afterwards. “She knows she’s good.”
Nodding his head a little, Ishida turned back to step into his room. “She does have talent. Good night, Kurosaki.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be nervous either. ‘Night.”
Closing the door behind him, Ishida flicked on the light and set his bag down carefully by the door. He moved unconsciously – taking a shower, changing his clothes, brushing his teeth – until finally settling down on the bed after turning off the light. Moonlight streamed through the window to silhouette his rigid posture, hands clasped tightly together on his lap.
Tomorrow was the day of the fashion show.
It felt as if the three weeks to prepare had gone by in a blur, leaving Ishida faintly wondering if the two outfits he had completed were real or just something in his imagination. But he could remember sketching the designs, seeing the image flow out of the pencils, watching the fabric being measured and cut, feeling the needle move smoothly through the cloth as he helped adjust the clothing. They were real and they were going to be worn tomorrow.
Ichigo said he shouldn’t be nervous. How could he not be? His possible future career depended on that evening and what people thought of his designs. Sure, if no one liked them, he could always keep his job with Rukia. It would still be a failure though and Ishida didn’t think he would be able to be happy after failing something so significant.
There’s no reason for me to be thinking so negatively, Ishida berated himself, shifting to put his glasses down on the night table and himself under the blankets. I just have to accept whatever happens. Hopefully something good…
The dark-haired boy stared at the glowing red numbers on the digital clock, watching them flick by until he eventually fell asleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
~~~
By the time Urahara arrived at the building, he was an hour and a half late and the show had already started. He had no idea that so much could change in fifteen years. Buildings were gone or replaced by newer ones and there were even a few new roads. Luckily, Yoruichi agreed to be his guide for the evening (she had stated “chaperone” but why would he need her to be that?). It was fine with him though; all he really wanted to see was the after-party.
After having their names checked at the door, the two were let inside. Urahara grinned at the flashing lights and blaring music amongst a massive crowd of people. At the far end of the room, a model was currently strutting down the runway, wearing one of the newest designs from Hell Moth.
He had seen flyers and read articles about the upcoming show by a talented young designer named Kuchiki Rukia. At first glance, one wouldn’t think he would care much about fashion. He didn’t really but it was a form of creation and that was something that did interest him. The models were also pretty to look at.
Yoruichi nudged him in the side and he blinked at her, reluctantly turning away from the figures on the runway.
“Kisuke, did you know MOD is one of the hosts for the show?” she hissed loudly. He could barely hear her over all the noise.
“Hm? Of course.”
Oh, he knew. He had done his research. In fact, it was one of his many reasons for attending.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it? Really, Yoruichi-san, sometimes I don’t understand you.” With that, Urahara drifted off to get a better view… and to be closer to the refreshment table when the wine was brought out.
The dark-haired woman sighed as she watched him go. Sometimes she didn’t understand him either. It was damn frustrating.
Watching the models walk down the runway, seemingly oblivious to the cameras flashing around them, Urahara let himself drift into thought. Since MOD was one of the main hosts, the chances of them sending a representative was very likely. He doubted the president himself would attend. Urahara frowned a little as he rubbed his chin. He really ought to follow through on the statements he made. It was bothering him a little despite what he told Yoruichi. Well, hopefully he wouldn’t care anymore once he had some alcohol.
Glancing up at the stage, he noticed that the style of the outfits on display now were different from the earlier ones. If anything, they were the complete opposite. Rather than dark colours that were typically black and red, these two were mostly white, with bright designs decorating the edges. It was intriguing; bright lights among a world of shadow. Urahara stepped closer as a final figure walked down the stage towards a microphone that had been set up at the end. He recognized her as Kuchiki Rukia from the articles.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I won’t say much as I’m sure you’re all impatient for the refreshments and want to mingle with others. I just wanted to note that tonight you may have noticed something different in our show. The last two designs were by a very talented colleague of mine by the name of Ishida Uryuu.” Rukia glanced behind her as if expecting something, then turned back to the crowd. “Unfortunately, he’s a tad shy, so if you are interested and wish to speak with him, I’ll gladly point him out to you this evening. Once again, thank you for all your support. I am always very grateful. Enjoy your evening. Thank you.”
As the applause faded, the crowd began to drift into groups.
Ishida Uryuu…? Urahara mused quietly to himself. I wonder why—Ah!
A grin spread across his face as he spotted a server carrying a tray of wine glasses. Out of the corner of his eye he could also see Yoruichi obviously looking for him. Hurrying over to the wine, he grabbed a glass and weaved his way out of sight. If she caught him, there would be no more wine for Urahara.
Slowing down as he judged that he was probably on the opposite side of the room now, Urahara stopped to see if there was anyone he recognized. After a moment of searching, he shrugged in acceptance that there was no one familiar. A small crowd had gathered around something and Urahara tilted his head to peer in between two heads to see what it was.
It turned out to be a he who was currently looking very uncomfortable. The boy was wearing a casual yet dressy white shirt and navy blue slacks. He stuttered out a few responses and statements of thanks, obviously unused to so much attention. Catching a few drifting words coming from the others, Urahara discovered that this was the talented little designer by the name of Ishida Uryuu.
Poor thing. Let’s see what I can do…
Sauntering over, Urahara pushed his way through into the center.
~~~
Ishida was nervous. Beyond nervous. Orihime had brought him a cup of tea to try to calm him down but it hadn’t helped much. All morning he had checked then rechecked the two outfits that were on hangers behind the stage. It got to the point where Rukia shoved him away and threatened to fire him if he looked at them one more time before the show actually started. He did stay away after that but his nerves were still on edge.
He didn’t remember much of what was going on around him, not even when the show had started and models were hastily changing backstage. What Ishida could remember was the moment he saw his first design take a step onto the walkway. He watched breathlessly, feeling awe and the solid confirmation that yes, his creation was real. Rukia had come up behind him, congratulating him with a grin. She had told him that he should come out with her, introduce himself. He had babbled incoherently, saying he was too nervous to go out in front of so many people and that please no, he wasn’t ready. Finally giving up, Rukia had pat him on the back and gone out to make her speech. Ishida had sighed in relief, slouching back against a wall.
After hearing what she said though, the dark-haired boy was desperately searching for somewhere to hide. Unfortunately, Rukia was very adept at the game of hide-and-seek (Ichigo had sent him a look of sympathy). Shoving him into a crowd of interested people, she left him to answer questions with a grin.
Now, not to be mistaken, Ishida appreciated their admiration and compliments. Very much so. But growing up in a rather sheltered life with few real friends made him very uncomfortable when a large number of people focused their undivided attention on him. He knew he would have to get over his nervousness eventually but… not in one night.
Trying to keep up with the questions and answering politely, he wanted something to save him, if only for a few moments. He didn’t expect it to really happen. But suddenly, someone pushed their way into the group and took a hold of his shoulders.
“Ishida-san~ I haven’t seen you in years! Come, let’s go talk outside!” Still spouting nonsense statements, the man steered Ishida out of the crowd and out an exit into the parking lot, ignoring the multitude of protests behind him.
Closing his eyes in relief as cold air washed over him, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, Ishida-san. Not used to that kind of thing, are you?”
Ishida turned to look at his rescuer. A man with a bright grin watched him with eyes shaded by a dark hat, pale blond hair poking out from underneath it. He was wearing a medium-length black coat on top of a dark-green suit. In one hand he held a wine glass that was half-empty.
Or half full. Ishida idly noted to himself before remembering that the man had asked him a question.
“O-oh… no, I’m not. Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Urahara Kisuke, at your service.” He gave a bow before straightening to lean back against the door. “As for your name, it wasn’t very hard to overhear it. Especially after Kuchiki-san’s little speech.”
Oh, right. Ishida almost blushed in embarrassment.
“Thank you for getting me out. I needed a break for a moment.”
“Not a problem, not a problem. Perfectly understandable. I have to say, I did like your designs. If your work will be showing up in more shows, I’ll be sure to attend.”
“Thank you… Urahara-san.”
All of a sudden, the door was kicked open, sending Urahara stumbling forward. Miraculously, he managed not to spill any of his wine.
“Kisuke! Where the hell have you been? And – is that wine?!” Yoruichi glared at him fiercely, tapping a foot.
“Oh dear. My apologies, Ishida-san, it seems I must get going now. We’ll talk again next time!” Urahara said cheerfully as he was unceremoniously dragged back into the building by the collar.
Ishida stared after them blankly but couldn’t help a small smile from creeping onto his face. Urahara Kisuke. Will there be a next time?
A/N: Awww. LOL XD Anyways, comment please. :D
To Chapter 3
X-posted to
kurosaki_clinic, asterisk_plus, uraishi
Rating: PG-13 for now. May change depending on what I decide to do. XD
Pairings: UraIshi (in this chapter, only slight IchiRuki)
Summary: AU. Ishida has had a hard life. With the help of some friends, it finally looks like things are going to work out. When he meets a bizarre and cheerful man named Urahara Kisuke, the two are inexplicably drawn to each other. But when Ishida discovers the truth about Urahara's past and its ties to his own, difficulties arise.
Notes: Yes, I am odd for being so infatuated with this pairing. Here's my shot at trying to explain it in an AU. And I am determined to finish a multi-chaptered story at least ONCE. lol
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the genius KT. ♥
Chapter 1
It was late in the evening when Ishida let himself into the Kurosaki household. After having lived there for three years, he supposed he could call it “home”, but for some reason, it just didn’t feel right. The house was dark so he quietly made his way up the stairs to the room he occupied, assuming everyone was already asleep. He was just about to step through the doorway when a spiky head poked out from a door down the hall.
“Oi, Ishida.”
“Kurosaki.”
Ichigo still lived at home but not for much longer. He and Rukia had decided to move in together once they found a suitable apartment, which was proving to be difficult. They hoped to find something by the end of the year.
“Just ah… good luck tomorrow, ya know?” A hand reached out to scratch his dismembered-looking head.
Ishida adjusted his glasses in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He still wasn’t used to getting well-wishes like that. “Oh… thank you. Shouldn’t you be saying that kind of thing to Kuchiki-san instead?”
“Rukia? Nah, she’s too full of herself to need anyone to reassure her,” the boy snorted, his expression softening slightly afterwards. “She knows she’s good.”
Nodding his head a little, Ishida turned back to step into his room. “She does have talent. Good night, Kurosaki.”
“Yeah, well, you shouldn’t be nervous either. ‘Night.”
Closing the door behind him, Ishida flicked on the light and set his bag down carefully by the door. He moved unconsciously – taking a shower, changing his clothes, brushing his teeth – until finally settling down on the bed after turning off the light. Moonlight streamed through the window to silhouette his rigid posture, hands clasped tightly together on his lap.
Tomorrow was the day of the fashion show.
It felt as if the three weeks to prepare had gone by in a blur, leaving Ishida faintly wondering if the two outfits he had completed were real or just something in his imagination. But he could remember sketching the designs, seeing the image flow out of the pencils, watching the fabric being measured and cut, feeling the needle move smoothly through the cloth as he helped adjust the clothing. They were real and they were going to be worn tomorrow.
Ichigo said he shouldn’t be nervous. How could he not be? His possible future career depended on that evening and what people thought of his designs. Sure, if no one liked them, he could always keep his job with Rukia. It would still be a failure though and Ishida didn’t think he would be able to be happy after failing something so significant.
There’s no reason for me to be thinking so negatively, Ishida berated himself, shifting to put his glasses down on the night table and himself under the blankets. I just have to accept whatever happens. Hopefully something good…
The dark-haired boy stared at the glowing red numbers on the digital clock, watching them flick by until he eventually fell asleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
~~~
By the time Urahara arrived at the building, he was an hour and a half late and the show had already started. He had no idea that so much could change in fifteen years. Buildings were gone or replaced by newer ones and there were even a few new roads. Luckily, Yoruichi agreed to be his guide for the evening (she had stated “chaperone” but why would he need her to be that?). It was fine with him though; all he really wanted to see was the after-party.
After having their names checked at the door, the two were let inside. Urahara grinned at the flashing lights and blaring music amongst a massive crowd of people. At the far end of the room, a model was currently strutting down the runway, wearing one of the newest designs from Hell Moth.
He had seen flyers and read articles about the upcoming show by a talented young designer named Kuchiki Rukia. At first glance, one wouldn’t think he would care much about fashion. He didn’t really but it was a form of creation and that was something that did interest him. The models were also pretty to look at.
Yoruichi nudged him in the side and he blinked at her, reluctantly turning away from the figures on the runway.
“Kisuke, did you know MOD is one of the hosts for the show?” she hissed loudly. He could barely hear her over all the noise.
“Hm? Of course.”
Oh, he knew. He had done his research. In fact, it was one of his many reasons for attending.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why should it? Really, Yoruichi-san, sometimes I don’t understand you.” With that, Urahara drifted off to get a better view… and to be closer to the refreshment table when the wine was brought out.
The dark-haired woman sighed as she watched him go. Sometimes she didn’t understand him either. It was damn frustrating.
Watching the models walk down the runway, seemingly oblivious to the cameras flashing around them, Urahara let himself drift into thought. Since MOD was one of the main hosts, the chances of them sending a representative was very likely. He doubted the president himself would attend. Urahara frowned a little as he rubbed his chin. He really ought to follow through on the statements he made. It was bothering him a little despite what he told Yoruichi. Well, hopefully he wouldn’t care anymore once he had some alcohol.
Glancing up at the stage, he noticed that the style of the outfits on display now were different from the earlier ones. If anything, they were the complete opposite. Rather than dark colours that were typically black and red, these two were mostly white, with bright designs decorating the edges. It was intriguing; bright lights among a world of shadow. Urahara stepped closer as a final figure walked down the stage towards a microphone that had been set up at the end. He recognized her as Kuchiki Rukia from the articles.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I won’t say much as I’m sure you’re all impatient for the refreshments and want to mingle with others. I just wanted to note that tonight you may have noticed something different in our show. The last two designs were by a very talented colleague of mine by the name of Ishida Uryuu.” Rukia glanced behind her as if expecting something, then turned back to the crowd. “Unfortunately, he’s a tad shy, so if you are interested and wish to speak with him, I’ll gladly point him out to you this evening. Once again, thank you for all your support. I am always very grateful. Enjoy your evening. Thank you.”
As the applause faded, the crowd began to drift into groups.
Ishida Uryuu…? Urahara mused quietly to himself. I wonder why—Ah!
A grin spread across his face as he spotted a server carrying a tray of wine glasses. Out of the corner of his eye he could also see Yoruichi obviously looking for him. Hurrying over to the wine, he grabbed a glass and weaved his way out of sight. If she caught him, there would be no more wine for Urahara.
Slowing down as he judged that he was probably on the opposite side of the room now, Urahara stopped to see if there was anyone he recognized. After a moment of searching, he shrugged in acceptance that there was no one familiar. A small crowd had gathered around something and Urahara tilted his head to peer in between two heads to see what it was.
It turned out to be a he who was currently looking very uncomfortable. The boy was wearing a casual yet dressy white shirt and navy blue slacks. He stuttered out a few responses and statements of thanks, obviously unused to so much attention. Catching a few drifting words coming from the others, Urahara discovered that this was the talented little designer by the name of Ishida Uryuu.
Poor thing. Let’s see what I can do…
Sauntering over, Urahara pushed his way through into the center.
~~~
Ishida was nervous. Beyond nervous. Orihime had brought him a cup of tea to try to calm him down but it hadn’t helped much. All morning he had checked then rechecked the two outfits that were on hangers behind the stage. It got to the point where Rukia shoved him away and threatened to fire him if he looked at them one more time before the show actually started. He did stay away after that but his nerves were still on edge.
He didn’t remember much of what was going on around him, not even when the show had started and models were hastily changing backstage. What Ishida could remember was the moment he saw his first design take a step onto the walkway. He watched breathlessly, feeling awe and the solid confirmation that yes, his creation was real. Rukia had come up behind him, congratulating him with a grin. She had told him that he should come out with her, introduce himself. He had babbled incoherently, saying he was too nervous to go out in front of so many people and that please no, he wasn’t ready. Finally giving up, Rukia had pat him on the back and gone out to make her speech. Ishida had sighed in relief, slouching back against a wall.
After hearing what she said though, the dark-haired boy was desperately searching for somewhere to hide. Unfortunately, Rukia was very adept at the game of hide-and-seek (Ichigo had sent him a look of sympathy). Shoving him into a crowd of interested people, she left him to answer questions with a grin.
Now, not to be mistaken, Ishida appreciated their admiration and compliments. Very much so. But growing up in a rather sheltered life with few real friends made him very uncomfortable when a large number of people focused their undivided attention on him. He knew he would have to get over his nervousness eventually but… not in one night.
Trying to keep up with the questions and answering politely, he wanted something to save him, if only for a few moments. He didn’t expect it to really happen. But suddenly, someone pushed their way into the group and took a hold of his shoulders.
“Ishida-san~ I haven’t seen you in years! Come, let’s go talk outside!” Still spouting nonsense statements, the man steered Ishida out of the crowd and out an exit into the parking lot, ignoring the multitude of protests behind him.
Closing his eyes in relief as cold air washed over him, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“So, Ishida-san. Not used to that kind of thing, are you?”
Ishida turned to look at his rescuer. A man with a bright grin watched him with eyes shaded by a dark hat, pale blond hair poking out from underneath it. He was wearing a medium-length black coat on top of a dark-green suit. In one hand he held a wine glass that was half-empty.
Or half full. Ishida idly noted to himself before remembering that the man had asked him a question.
“O-oh… no, I’m not. Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Urahara Kisuke, at your service.” He gave a bow before straightening to lean back against the door. “As for your name, it wasn’t very hard to overhear it. Especially after Kuchiki-san’s little speech.”
Oh, right. Ishida almost blushed in embarrassment.
“Thank you for getting me out. I needed a break for a moment.”
“Not a problem, not a problem. Perfectly understandable. I have to say, I did like your designs. If your work will be showing up in more shows, I’ll be sure to attend.”
“Thank you… Urahara-san.”
All of a sudden, the door was kicked open, sending Urahara stumbling forward. Miraculously, he managed not to spill any of his wine.
“Kisuke! Where the hell have you been? And – is that wine?!” Yoruichi glared at him fiercely, tapping a foot.
“Oh dear. My apologies, Ishida-san, it seems I must get going now. We’ll talk again next time!” Urahara said cheerfully as he was unceremoniously dragged back into the building by the collar.
Ishida stared after them blankly but couldn’t help a small smile from creeping onto his face. Urahara Kisuke. Will there be a next time?
A/N: Awww. LOL XD Anyways, comment please. :D
To Chapter 3
X-posted to
kurosaki_clinic, asterisk_plus, uraishi 
Great chappie xD
Honestly, I hope this story goes on and on and on and on.
Or at least you keep on writing AU's and Urahara x Ishida, cos this is just pure win =3
XDDDDDDDDDDD
ROFL YES XDXD
:DDD ♥
I'm working on it. XD lol