Kisuke is relaxing in his rooms, Tessai at his side, when he hears familiar footsteps stalking through his lab and approaching his door. Even more interesting, he can feel the person approaching; Ishida’s magic is reaching towards him for the first time in months, the anger dimmed and softened. It’s an encouraging feeling, and Kisuke is almost certain he knows what caused the change.
(He knew Shiro would be good for Ishida.)
“Come in!” Kisuke calls when he feels Ishida just outside his door.
Ishida enters and drops to sit across from Kisuke, the tiniest of smiles pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Gave myself away, did I?”
Kisuke chuckles and leans forward, pouring Ishida some tea and sliding the tray of snacks and a clean plate closer. “Just a little,” he agrees with a smile of his own. “You started projecting when you entered my lab.”
Ishida looks down at the offerings, a touch of color rising in his cheeks, and busies his hands with selecting a few things and setting them on his own plate. “Shiro-sama introduced me to Getsuga.”
“Oooh? How did that go?” Kisuke assumes it went well; Ishida is just too happy — not to mention uninjured — for Getsuga to have taken offense to him. Which does bode well for their tentative plans on how to keep Ishida safe from retaliation.
“We went flying,” Ishida admits with awe, then looks up and fixes Kisuke with an annoyed glower. “You knew he was going to do that, didn’t you? You even said he might do that next!”
“You… he… What?!” Kisuke chokes on his tea and starts to cough, trying to process what Ishida had just said. In all his plans and contingencies, he’d not expected Getsuga to allow Ishida on her back the first time they met! It was why he’d suggested Shiro begin to introduce them so soon! “That was a joke!” he manages to force out.
Tessai makes an amused noise and claps him on the back, jarring another fit of coughing free without mercy. “You enjoy flight, then?” he asks Ishida.
“I do,” Ishida agrees with a touch of amusement. “Mother was a Dark Flier.” He eats a few bites while Kisuke gets himself under control, then casually tosses out, “Shiro-sama’s agreed to help me find a flying mount and sponsor my transfer into his division.”
Kisuke sighs and stares mournfully down at his cup of tea, not daring to pick it up again in case Ishida has any more mage-blasts to drop on him. Maybe he’s being a bit over-dramatic — Tessai’s amusement says he is — but he’d really prefer to not die so ignobly.
(Though he can’t wait to tease Shiro about how adorable he’s being. It’s been a while since he could hold something so amusing over Shiro’s head.)
“Do you think you’ll choose a pegasus or a wyvern?” Tessai asks.
“I… don’t really know,” Ishida says, fidgeting with his own cup of tea. “I… I would like a pegasus, I think, but… but what if there aren’t any that would accept me..?”
“There are seven pegasi of the proper lineages who completed training a few months ago, none of whom have found partners yet,” Kisuke chimes in before Ishida can work himself into a state. “And a few older pegasi as well. The lineages that accept males tend to be pickier overall, so it can be a few years before they find a partner instead of agreeing to be someone’s spare in emergencies.”
Ishida breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes, sending Kisuke a thankful look. “Do you think..?”
“You’ll do fine,” Kisuke says with confidence. And he has no doubt his words are true; Ishida has a way with horses that Kisuke is certain will carry over to pegasi, on top of his heritage as the child of a pegasus rider giving him an advantage.
“Maybe,” Ishida murmurs, gaze drifting to the side before he shakes his head and sits up. “Urahara, will you… spar with me? A mage battle, I mean. I… uhm…” He gestures with his off-hand, glittering flakes of ice scattering from his hand with the motion. “I need to… remember active control. Instead of just suppression.”
“Of course, of course! It will probably be good for me as well,” Kisuke admits. With war on the horizon and his presence on the front requested by Zangetsu, it’s best if he dusts off his skills in the safety of home. “Like we used to when I was training you? Freehand magic only, no tomes?”
“Yes.”
“I will prepare the warded room, then,” Tessai announces as he rises and leaves the room, magic already gathering around him.
Kisuke feels the wards spark to life as Tessai calls forth each one, until the sheer density blocks his ability to sense any other fine details. It’s been a long time since Tessai felt the need to raise everything, but Kisuke isn’t going to argue; Ishida’s privacy aside, both of them are powerhouses when they go all out, and fighting like that in an unwarded room is… unwise.
(Castle-shaking levels of unwise, in fact.)
(That was an awkward conversation with the kids!)
“Everything is ready for you,” Tessai announces as they enter. He’s lounging against a boulder and holding a Healing Staff in one hand, the red gem in it already gleaming with a prepared cast.
Ishida moves to the other side of the room before settling into a loose, relaxed stance. Ice glitters in his hair and on his shoulders, generated by the wild magic that Ishida can’t quite control after ruthlessly suppressing his magic for so long. “Same rules as back then?”
“But of course!” Kisuke grins and claps his hands together, sending firebolts hurtling towards Ishida without warning.
Ice spreads through the air between them, absorbing his initial volley. Steam swirls and reaches for him with greedy, magic-laden tendrils and Kisuke moves.
(He’s not making that mistake again!)
Neither of them stand still. Neither of them pause their casting. Power swirls and flares in the air around them, a constant flow of strike and counterstrike that leaves Kisuke’s senses raw and his hands numb.
(Kisuke taught him that. Taught him to stay on his toes. To cast while moving and give no quarter.)
(He’s pleased that Ishida remembers.)
Spears of ice rain down. Hit the ground instead of him. Explode into jagged shards. Wind swirls, invisible blades ripping at his defenses.
Kisuke darts away. Skids on a patch of ice. Saves himself by pitching forward into a roll. A sweep of his hand sends flames chasing Ishida. Gives him room to stand and reassess.
Ishida scowls at him, uniform charred and bloodstained. Water drips from his hair and plasters his clothing to his body, turning bloody pink as it runs down his body. “I forgot how fire-mad you are,” Ishida grumbles, removing his glasses and swiping the water from his face. “You still have spare uniforms, right?”
“I do. They should even be clean, too.” Healing pulses through his body, erasing the few wounds Ishida’s managed to land so far. “And it’s not like you’re any better,” he teases, gesturing towards the ice slowly melting all around him. “At least fire is my affinity, most mages consider ice just an offshoot of wind magic.”
“More fools they. Their ignorance is my victory.” Ishida proudly tips his chin up, baring his teeth as the shine of Healing settles across his body as well. He holds a hand to the side and summons more ice. “Now hold still and let me practice!”
Kisuke laughs. Raises a wall of fire between them. Bolts.
(He never promised to hold still.)
(If Ishida’s waiting for that, he’s going to be waiting a long, long time.)