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Entry tags:
question of existence, apart from reality
Urahara Kisuke had always been something of a fleeting presence in Rukia's life. From the stories people told while she was in the Academy, no two of which matched exactly, to the time when they were arguably friends and acquaintances, and he still couldn't be found unless absolutely needed. He's woven in and out of Rukia's life more times than she can count, and not always in innocuous ways. Urahara had a way of trampling into one's world, his steps bending blades of grass, and sending ripples skirting across water.
His absence leaves just as much crumbling around her.
She wakes an instant after it happens. While Urahara may be good at masking his spiritual energy, his absence is still notable, as though someone removed a shade or two of color. Making her way over to his store, Rukia half expects to find Un Chat Gris disappeared as well, perhaps taken with Urahara down the proverbial rabbit hole.
Yet it remains there, cats softly mewling as they walk up to greet Rukia as she enters through the back. Raking her fingers through her hair, Rukia steps inside, eyes tracing the panels of the walls and seeking out boxes of materials that Urahara has hidden throughout the store. Spiritual tools, some to suppress power and others to amplify it. A few false bodies, empty vessels for souls to inhabit. She spends a few hours organizing it all, putting it into a system she can easily navigate.
There are good reasons not to shut down Urahara's back door business, even if there might be different rules regarding the wares from here on out.
But inventory isn't the only loose end that Urahara's left behind as his legacy, and Rukia closes her eyes, seeking out a couple of the souls she needs to speak with immediately on the matter. One is far easier to find, and she gives his soul a little tug — a request, rather than a summon.
"Hope you can spare a few minutes," she murmurs under her breath, standing up and preparing for her guest to arrive.
His absence leaves just as much crumbling around her.
She wakes an instant after it happens. While Urahara may be good at masking his spiritual energy, his absence is still notable, as though someone removed a shade or two of color. Making her way over to his store, Rukia half expects to find Un Chat Gris disappeared as well, perhaps taken with Urahara down the proverbial rabbit hole.
Yet it remains there, cats softly mewling as they walk up to greet Rukia as she enters through the back. Raking her fingers through her hair, Rukia steps inside, eyes tracing the panels of the walls and seeking out boxes of materials that Urahara has hidden throughout the store. Spiritual tools, some to suppress power and others to amplify it. A few false bodies, empty vessels for souls to inhabit. She spends a few hours organizing it all, putting it into a system she can easily navigate.
There are good reasons not to shut down Urahara's back door business, even if there might be different rules regarding the wares from here on out.
But inventory isn't the only loose end that Urahara's left behind as his legacy, and Rukia closes her eyes, seeking out a couple of the souls she needs to speak with immediately on the matter. One is far easier to find, and she gives his soul a little tug — a request, rather than a summon.
"Hope you can spare a few minutes," she murmurs under her breath, standing up and preparing for her guest to arrive.