((A slightly modified version of this prompt, so that it can be expanded easier.))

Jyuushiro struggles to hold back the Vasto Lorde’s blade, arms trembling and body straining with the effort. There’s a sharp-deadly-vicious ache building in his chest, and he knows, he knows, that he needs to finish this soon, he has to, but his arms and trembling and his chest is aching and Shunsui has been drawn away from his side—

The Vasto Lorde is grinning gleeful-cruel-mocking at him, likely sensing his flagging strength, and its mouth is opening for another cutting remark that Jyuushiro is already dreading—

“Hey, ugly! How about leaving him alone?” someone shouts as they slam into the Vasto Lorde’s side, knocking it away across the sky.

Blood scatters from the stranger’s zanpakutou as he flicks it and more drips down the Vasto Lorde’s chest, staining the creature’s pale skin. The Hollow snarls wounded-vicious-infuriated, but the stranger just smirks, lifts his chin higher, and darts in with another brutal strike. He drives the Vasto Lorde back-back-back with unrelenting blows that force it onto the defense, showing no sign of strain or difficulty.

“You’re weaker than I expected,” the stranger announces, sounding decidedly bored with the whole fight.

The Vast Lorde roars, “Fool! I am the pinnacle of Hollow existence!” in fury. Ducks aside. Strikes—

Cuts only air.

“Then prove it,” the stranger taunts. Levels his twin blades at the beast. Grins with an almost Hollow-like vicious-violent-mocking edge. “Cause frankly I’ve never heard of you before.”

The taunt strikes home: a bestial roar rips from the Hollow’s throat as it lunges, lashing out with blade and tail.

Jyuushiro tenses. Gathers himself. Tries to move—

A hand grips his shoulder, anchoring him in place.

“Maa, Kaito-kun can handle him,” the second stranger says flippantly, even as he presses a glowing green hand to Jyuushiro’s chest. “My son knows what he’s doing.”

“That’s a Vasto Lorde—”

“He’s dealt with worse,” the stranger says with a shrug, then narrows his eyes and tugs Jyuushiro a bit closer. “What in the world have you done to yourself…?* he murmurs absently, brows furrowing and reiatsu building around his hand.

Warmth pours into Jyuushiro’s chest, easing the ache and the building tightness. He takes a breath. Another. Coughs—

“Woah, easy, easy… not too fast. Let your lungs adjust,” the stranger chides as he slides his hand up, fingers brushing across Jyuushiro’s neck like a threat, a warning, but—

His cough stops.

The man’s hand lifts away.

“Better?” the man asks as he steps back, adjusting his ridiculous striped hat and flashing Jyuushiro a bright smile.

“Yes, thank you,” Jyuushiro says with a small nod, taking a moment to examine the man— the men, he realizes abruptly— in front of him.

The one who helped him is tall, with flaxen hair and fair skin, wearing a green jinbei with a dark green haori over top. It almost looks like a Captain’s haori, but surely it’s not, surely the man isn’t mimicking their sign of rank… is he? He’s also carrying a cane instead of a standard zanpakutou — a decision that Jyuushiro has only seen the Soutaicho make — and wearing geta instead of a Shinigami’s standard waraji.

And yet even with so many distinctive items, he still can’t place the man.

Nor can he place the shorter man behind him, though he suspects that’s more due to how nondescript the second man looks: shoulder-length raven black hair, thoughtful blue eyes, and a plain blue kimono. Even the second man’s sword is nondescript, just a simple katana tucked at his side, both hilt and sheath showing little sign of wear or age.

But the true issue is the first man’s son, who has twin zanpakutou just like he and Shunsui do.

(Over a century of looking, of hoping that they’re not the only ones, not strange for wielding two blades when everyone else carries only one…)

(Surely he’d have heard of the young man before now?)

(Especially if he’s strong enough to take on a Vasto Lorde!)

The flaxen-haired stranger abruptly steps away, just as Shunsui appears at Jyuushiro’s side in a burst of shunpo, his expression grim and his reiatsu sharp with concern-wariness-unease.

Shunsui eyes the strangers suspiciously, then gives Jyuushiro an assessing look, clearly searching for wounds or indications of trouble. “Jyuu-kun…”

“I’m alright,” Jyuushiro reassures as he brushes a wisp of steady-cautious-curious reiatsu against Shunsui’s senses to back his words up. “These two and the third over there stepped in before anything could happen. He—” Jyuushiro nodded towards the flaxen-haired man— “healed me while his son distracted the Vasto Lorde.”

“Maa, just trying to help!” the man says with an awkward smile, rubbing at the back of his head as he looks between them. There’s something like wonder in his eyes, like fascination, and Jyuushiro has no idea why: there’s nothing special about them beyond their weapons, and neither man is paying attention to those.

No, the flaxen-haired man’s gaze is lingering on their hair, their faces, their stances, as if he can barely believe what he sees. His companion is less obvious about his fascination, blue eyes sweeping over Jyuushiro and Shunsui with a healer’s assessing gaze, but it’s still there, still noticeable no matter how the raven-haired man tries to disguise it.

“Most people wouldn’t bother,” Shunsui says with a touch of suspicion, stepping closer to Jyuushiro so that their shoulders brush. “Especially against a Vasto Lorde—”

“Eh, he wasn’t that strong,” the man’s son says as he materializes at his father’s side, shunpo too fast for Jyuushiro to even register. His blades are already sheathed at his hip and he looks markedly unruffled for someone who just took on one of the greatest threats to a Shinigami, even as he absently offers his right hand to the raven-haired man, who settles two glowing green fingers against the offered wrist.

(Wait…)

(Had the young man not unbound his zanpakutou during the fight?)

(Had he really fought a Vasto Lorde with sheer brute force?)

The man’s son eyes Jyuushiro and Shunsui in surprise-fascination-wonder, then slants his gaze at his father, a silent question in his eyes that makes his father’s lips purse.

“I imagine there were some rather… unintended consequences when the artifact overloaded,” the flaxen-haired man says a touch flippantly, though Jyuushiro can see traces of unease in the man’s expression. “I’m unsure where we ended up, but…” he gestures towards Jyuushiro and Shunsui, as if their existence is enough to complete his sentence.

Jyuushiro shares a speaking look with Shunsui, then pointedly sheathes his zanpakutou and smiles at the three strangers, attempting to be as welcoming as possible. “Thank you for the help and the healing. I’m Ukitake Jyuushiro and this is Kyoraku Shunsui,” he says in introduction. “We’re both Captains of the Gotei Thirteen.”

“And you three would be…?” Shunsui prompts, body tense despite his efforts to match Jyuushiro’s welcoming stance.

The flaxen-haired man smiles faintly and inclines his head. “I’m Urahara Kisuke,” he says, before setting a hand on his son’s shoulder and continues with, “and this is my son, Urahara Kaito, and his partner, Yamada Hanataro. We’re unaffiliated wanderers.”

Jyuushiro has never heard of unaffiliated wanders capable of taking out a Vasto Lorde; as far as he’s aware, the Soutaicho recruited anyone that powerful a long time ago. Add in the way the three are looking at him, and the comment about an overloaded artifact, and he suspects there’s something… unusual… going on. Something he’s not entirely certain he wants to dig into, despite his mind already drawing connections.

(Urahara Kisuke healed him without question, without hesitation, despite Jyuushiro’s unique illness.)

(Urahara Kisuke spoke as if he’d initially expected something different when he’d pressed his hand to Jyuushiro’s chest.)

(A suspicion niggles at the edges of Jyuushiro’s mind, but he sets it aside.)

(He can consider the implications of time travel later.)

Jyuushiro mentally shakes his thoughts free and casts a considering at the sky overhead, gauging the time: if his suspicions are correct, these three are adrift with nowhere safe to rest for the night. He has no doubt that they’ll be able to manage, but both manners and curiosity are niggling at his mind, prompting him to ask, “Would you like a place to stay for the evening?”

Urahara Kisuke exchanges looks with both his son and Yamada, a wealth of information held in their gazes that Jyuushiro cannot yet parse, then turns back to Jyuushiro and smiles sheepishly. “That’s very kind of you, Ukitake-san,” he says, reaching up to rub at the back of his head. “If it’s no trouble, we’d certainly welcome a place to stay.”

“It’s no trouble,” Jyuushiro tells the three, even as he presses slightly into Shunsui’s side in reassurance; his partner doesn’t have all the clues quite yet and is therefore wary about Jyuushiro’s offer because of it, but Jyuushiro is confident that Shunsui will reach the same conclusion when he explains. “I need to report the Vasto Lorde’s death, but I can get you settled in first.”

The three exchange another look, then Urahara Kisuke tips back his odd hat and smiles warm-pleased-surprised at Jyuushiro and says, “Thank you again, Ukitake-san, we appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome. I look forward to getting to know you,” Jyuushiro says as he turns to lead the way back.

He has no idea what the future will bring, but something about it feels brighter now with these three at his side.

(He almost can’t wait to see.)