Jyuushiro took in the way Sasaki’s shoulders lowered minutely the moment they crossed the ward-lines of the Ugendo. Even the man’s carefully controlled reiatsu gained a calmer edge the further they walked along the path towards Jyuushiro’s home. It was clear Sasaki felt at home here on the grounds, just as much as he felt at home around Jyuushiro and Shunsui and Unohana.

(It was interesting to watch Sasaki’s movements, to listen to his voice, and recognize bits and pieces of his mannerisms.)

(How close were they in his world, that he would adopt mannerisms from all of them?)

“Are you hungry?” Jyuushiro asked as he slid open the door and stepped through, pausing to trade his sandals for house slippers.

“I could eat,” Sasaki agreed, reaching out absently to an empty spot, then freezing with a grimace as his hand closed over nothing instead of the slippers he was clearly expecting. His gaze skittered to Jyuushiro then away, and he stiltedly pulled on a pair of guest slippers, shoulders rigid and reiatsu drawing inward.

Jyuushiro bit back a frown, wishing desperately that Shunsui had come home with him instead of staying to help sort out the mess left behind. Perhaps he shouldn’t have offered his home to Sasaki, but the man had seemed relieved, initially, and had been relaxing on their walk up.

Jyuushiro wasn’t blind. Sasaki had deliberately chosen to approach the three of them out of every being gathered, even the well-loved teens. Had seemed almost disturbed by the teens — or perhaps by Urahara? He hadn’t caught the direction of the man’s gaze close enough to be certain.

“I’ll see what’s available, then,” Jyuushiro told Sasaki with a smile, then glanced over the man thoughtfully, taking in the small signs of disarray. “Would you prefer a fresh set of clothing? I’m certain I have some spare that will fit.”

Sasaki hesitated, then slowly nodded. “If it’s no bother,” he said. “I’ve been on my feet and moving for… two days now, I believe.”

“As have we,” Jyuushiro agreed. He led Sasaki down one of the hallways and gestured towards the bathroom. “If you’d like to get clean while I find you something fresh. I’ll leave the clothing just outside the door for you.”

He didn’t miss the flicker of relief across Sasaki’s face, no matter how quickly the man smoothed it out with a pleasant, warm smile. “Thank you,” Sasaki said, inclining his head in a small bow. “I appreciate your hospitality, Ukitake-san.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Jyuushiro countered, then stepped back and turned to head to his room, leaving Sasaki to clean off as thoroughly as the man wanted.

‘What difference in our worlds to produce a man like him,’ Jyuushiro wondered, as he sorted through his clean clothing. ‘Who is he? He feels… familiar?’

He closed his eyes and breathed out, settling his mind and opening his senses. Sasaki was a beacon of power, carefully banked but still obvious at this distance. He’d only met a few people with such power at their disposal: the Soutaicho, Urahara Kaito, and… Kurosaki Ichigo.

Jyuushiro considered that as he folded the clothing and set it by the door to the bathroom. Just like Urahara Kaito felt similar to Urahara Kisuke, so too did Sasaki Uryuu feel similar to several of the teens that Urahara Kaito surrounded himself with.

But it was too close of a similarity to be anything but direct relation. From a man who held himself with the confidence of age and experience.

(An alternate reality.)

(Something about that niggled at his mind.)

Jyuushiro shook his head and went in to check the kitchen, making a pleased noise at the sight of the already-prepared food set under a small kido barrier. The servants had made plenty, he figured after a moment of consideration; they’d likely expected him to return with Shunsui at his side.

Either way, by the time Sasaki had returned from his shower, Jyuushiro had set the food out at the table and settled in to wait with a cup of tea. Like he’d suspected, Sasaki had no problem finding his way to the dining room, and the man seemed comfortable in Jyuushiro’s clothing, like he was used to the way the kimono was slightly too large on him.

“Thank you for this,” Sasaki said with a small bow, then took a seat across from Jyuushiro. He absently flicked his hands, nudging back the hems of the sleeves so his hands were free. “I appreciate it.”

Jyuushiro smiled warmly at Sasaki, and gestured for Sasaki to serve himself, noting the sort of items that he seemed to prefer. Dinner passed in quiet, idle conversation, nothing that would reveal anything truly important, just… simple things.

Like the state of Jyuushiro’s pond, and how many koi were currently living in it. Or the annoyances of paperwork. Little amusing anecdotes of their lives that gave only small insights into the worlds they lived in.

When they were done, Sasaki stood before Jyuushiro could, stacking up many of the dishes and carrying them back into the kitchen.

“You don’t have to—”

“Perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t,” Sasaki cut him off with a dry look, already sorting the dishes out and giving them a basic cleaning. “Your other self already lost this argument,” he pointed out, tone bland.

“Be that as it may, you are my guest,” Jyuushiro tried again, only to blink at the mild, kind, dangerous smile that Sasaki gave him in response. The sort of smile he used whenever someone tried to suggest he rest when he didn’t need it. “You are… far too skilled at that.”

“Learned from the best,” Sasaki agreed, setting aside the dishes for the servants to give a thorough cleaning to later and drying off his hands. “More tea?”

“I… yes, please.”

It felt odd for a stranger to be serving him in his own home, but Sasaki did it with the ease of long habit. He didn’t need to ask where anything was, simply pulled out the kettle and set water on to boil. Then he brought down the teapot that Jyuushiro often used, glanced at Jyuushiro once, then selected one of the tins of tea leaves without question.

It was even odder to realize that Sasaki had selected the tea that Jyuushiro had been about to suggest.

(They really were close, weren’t they?)

They settled on his porch, a small table between them to hold their tea and the darkening grounds before them. The silence was more comfortable than Jyuushiro expected it to be, and he could already see the tension unwinding from Sasaki’s shoulders the longer they sat and simply drank tea.

Until, with a quiet sigh, Sasaki set aside his empty cup and tipped his head back to stare up at the dark sky above them. “Thank you for this,” he murmured. “I know you’re not my Ukitake-ji-san, but still… thank you. I appreciate you going out of your way for a stranger like this.”

“You and he are close,” Jyuushiro said, turning Sasaki’s words over in his mind. Sasaki considered his Ukitake his uncle, and not simply as a way to lower Jyuushiro’s guard around him. He’d suspected it, but… confirmation on the relationship was nice.

“Initially against my will,” Sasaki admitted. “But he, Kyoraku-ji-san, and Unohana-ba-san didn’t let me be until I gave in.” He shrugged and tilted his head enough to give Jyuushiro a tiny, true smile. “They were all quite persistent.”

Jyuushiro chuckled softly and poured himself the last of the tea. “We can be, yes. Was there any particular reason, or..?”

“Ukitake-ji-san and Kyoraku-ji-san used the excuse of my zanpakutou being a dual blade.” At Jyuushiro’s surprised look, Sasaki smirked and nodded. “Yes, exactly.”

(Yet another dual blade user.)

(It niggled at his mind… what was he overlooking?)

“I’m still not entirely certain what Unohana-ba-san saw that interested her,” Sasaki said. “She just… started involving herself.”

Jyuushiro hummed in thought, eyeing Sasaki out of the corner of his eye. There was a chance that Unohana-taicho got involved simply because they had gotten involved, but Jyuushiro somehow doubted that. His instincts were telling him there was more to it than that.

Sasaki brought a hand up, covering a yawn, then gave Jyuushiro a sheepish look. “Sorry. I should probably get some sleep.”

“Understandable,” Jyuushiro said, rising to his feet. “Come, let me set up the guest room for you. And maybe lend a hair brush?” he asked, eyeing Sasaki’s striped, hip-length hair that was free of its previous braid. Sasaki’s hair had a distinctive wave to it, even damp as it still was, and Jyuushiro knew how much difficulty Shunsui had with his hair.

Sasaki hesitated, then gave Jyuushiro another small, true smile. “That would be appreciated, thank you. Finger-combing is only so useful with hair like this.”

He chuckled. “Shunsui complains of the same thing.”

“Kyoraku-ji-san just complains so you’ll brush his hair for him,” Sasaki said with amusement. “He’s lazy like that.”

“I’m aware,” Jyuushiro replied dryly. He was tempted to ask if Sasaki had anyone like that in his life, someone he could be just himself around, but… it felt too personal a question.

(Too dangerous of a question.)

(After all, his counterpart had used the excuse of Sasaki’s dual blades to continually approach the man, according to Sasaki.)

(He knew what that meant.)

Jyuushiro shook his thoughts free and showed Sasaki to a guest room, bringing in bedding and a hair brush while Sasaki dragged the futon out and went about setting it up. And, when Sasaki thanked him and waved him off, Jyuushiro went.

He needed to speak with Sōgyo no Kotowari.

Maybe his spirits would have more insight than what he’d managed to gather himself.