Kisuke comes awake all at once, body carefully still and breathing even as he tries to figure out where the hell he is—

(Kaito is nearby, reiatsu steady-even-stable, which means that Hanataro is nearby, which means he’s somewhere safe but—)

It comes back to him in a rush: investigating a strange artifact, triggering it on accident, finding young versions of Kyoraku and Ukitake…

Kisuke takes a few careful, measured breaths and then pushes himself up, sweeping his gaze over the bare guest room that Ukitake had given him.

Not a dream then, no matter how much he wishes it was, and now that he’s paying attention to everything he’s sensing, he can tell that Ukitake and Kyoraku have returned from the Captain’s meeting.

(He’s going to need to work on that.)

(This isn’t their time, and this Ukitake and Kyoraku are not safe the same way the ones from his time are.)

(He needs to stop subconsciously labeling them that way.)

Kisuke bows his head and squeezes his eyes shut, taking a moment to gather his scattered, shattered thoughts back into some form of order; now isn’t the time for cursing himself, now is the time for trying to find a balance here in this strange and unknown time. If he’s judging Ukitake’s age correctly — and he might not be, Shinigami appearance is only a loose gauge of age at the best of times, and he’s only known Ukitake for a bare fraction of the man’s lifespan — then they’re well before, well… anything, really.

Certainly before Kisuke himself appeared in Soul Society. Probably before Aizen, as well. Hell, he has the sinking suspicion that if he walks out Ukitake’s door right now, the only familiar Captains will be Ukitake, Kyoraku, the Soutaicho, and Unohana, which he… well, he really doesn’t know what to do with that thought, so he shoves it aside, breathes through the spike of uncertainty, and tries to refocus.

He and Kaito and Hanataro are changing things just by being here. Kaito can say all the pretty words he wants about the Vasto Lorde being ‘weak’, but Kisuke knows better: his son is just powerful, with strength so far beyond the norm that comparing him to others is useless. And after years of off and on training given by Ukitake and Kyoraku themselves, Kaito’s technique is certainly approaching masterful as well.

Their Kyoraku and Ukitake can still best his son a little over half the time — age and trickery, and all that — but Kisuke bets that would have changed in the next decade or two. These versions, though… Kisuke’s not so sure where they stand, not without seeing them in action.

What he is sure about, though, is that Ukitake certainly wouldn’t have come out of that fight with the Vasto Lorde unscathed, especially with his illness so close to acting up. It’s a rare Captain who can stand toe-to-toe with a Vasto Lorde and finish the fight as quickly as Kaito did, after all, and with Ukitake’s health being compromised still—

(He could fix that.)

(He knows how to craft his half of it from scratch, knows that Hanataro is skilled enough to apply the Healer’s half—)

(Together they could fix Ukitake’s health, and then—)

(And then what, hold it over the man’s head in exchange for, what, loyalty? Safety?)

(What a perfect way to absolutely alienate their current hosts.)

Kisuke shoves the thoughts aside and leans forward, pressing the heels of his hands into his face; no matter what sort of training he has, he knows very well that extortion will get him nowhere with these two Captains. Besides, they don’t need it, not with Ukitake welcoming them so openly and freely. They don’t need anything to hold over Ukitake, don’t need to create any sort of extra debt of gratitude between them, and he has no doubt that even attempting it will make Kyoraku infuriated.

Offering to cure Ukitake’s incurable illness will net them nothing but suspicion and fury at this point, so there’s no use even thinking about it.

(Well, it was a foolish thought anyway.)

(Their Ukitake lived for centuries with his illness, Kisuke doesn’t need to do anything for this one.)

(He doesn’t.)

A soft knock on the door startles him from his thoughts, and he hastily sits up and runs a hand through his hair to neaten it a bit, before realizing that it’s Kaito in the hallway. He reaches out and tugs lightly on Kaito’s reiatsu in welcome, even as he says, “Come in.”

The door slides open and Kaito slips in, followed by Hanataro, then slides the door closed and immediately crosses the small room to throw himself down on the futon next to Kisuke. “Ukitake-san knows you modified his wards,” Kaito says as he presses into Kisuke’s side, practically burrowing against Kisuke in an effort to be close. It would be adorable if Kisuke didn’t know exactly what had motivated the effort. “I don’t think he really minds, but he wants to talk with you about what you did and how it works.”

Kisuke swallows, nerves jangling at the mention of Ukitake knowing; he’d thought— he’d thought he’d covered his tracks well enough, slotted it in place in such a way that— that it wouldn’t be noticed. Most people wouldn’t notice, he’s pretty sure, not with the way he linked it in place.

(Unless he messed that up?)

(These wards are a lot older than he’s used to working with, but surely that shouldn’t matter?)

(He’d set the new ones up to be a low-level connection, a subconscious connection, in fact, of the sort that should have kept Ukitake from noticing it as anything more than a… a feeling or an instinct.)

(So where did he go wrong?!)

“Hey.” Kaito reaches up to tug lightly on a lock of Kisuke’s hair. “Take a deep breath, you’re panicking.”

Kisuke barks a jagged, breathless laugh and wraps an arm around Kaito, pulling him even closer, and buries his face in his son’s hair. “Sorry,” he mumbles, even as he tries to pull his mind back into some semblance of calm. “You shouldn’t have to—” Kaito’s sharp elbow digs into his ribs briefly, jarring his thoughts away from that spiral before it can even fully take hold.

“We’re all a mess right now,” Kaito says firmly, shifting slightly in Kisuke’s grip, though not as if he wants to escape, but rather—

Hanataro yips softly as he tumbles into the pile, then laughs and wriggles around until he’s comfortable, his head on Kaito’s shoulder and his back pressed against Kisuke’s chest. “Th-this isn’t r-really a n-normal situation,” he offers once he’s settled. “Urahara-san d-doesn’t need t-to pr-pretend with us.”

Kisuke huffs at Hanataro’s words, but doesn’t bother trying to contest them, just soaks up the (unexpected) reassurance and does his best to relax; he’ll need to deal with the too-young versions of Captains he’s always looked up to soon enough, but… it doesn’t have to be immediately.

(Besides, this is probably helping the other two as well.)

(And that’s all that matters.)