He showered as quickly as he could manage, taking care of his — too long, too messy — hair and then scrubbing his body and especially his back. All in all, he was in and out in under half an hour, not exactly a record but still fairly decent given how obnoxious his hair was getting.

(Part of him wondered if he should just… ask Urahara to cut it off for him, since the man could do it easier than Uryuu could.)

(The other part of him thought about allowing Urahara at his back, something sharp in his hand and… well.)

(Weird truce and unusual comfort around the ex-Shinigami aside, he was still a Shinigami.)

By the time he came out of the bathroom, wearing a comfortable pair of pants and a towel over his shoulders and little else, Urahara was doing… something. The man had rearranged Uryuu’s main room a bit, set a chair backwards against the table and arranged some supplies next to it and was currently leaning over a bowl of something, stirring it with a thoughtful frown.

“Done?” Urahara asked without looking up from the bowl. “Come here, then.”

“What’s this?” Uryuu couldn’t help but ask as he stepped closer and peered down into the bowl and finding… some sort of ink? “Oh, for the array?”

“Yes. Hand, please,” he said abruptly, and then, before Uryuu could even register his request, reached out and snatched Uryuu’s wrist in an unrelenting hold and dragged his hand up over the bowl. And then pain—

Uryuu inhaled sharply. Tried to wrench his arm away—

Urahara’s grip held steady. Kept Uryuu’s hand over the bowl without a single sign of strain, despite the sudden ache in Uryuu’s shoulder and wrist.

“I need some of your blood in the ink to bind the array to you,” Urahara explained as he started stirring the ink in the bowl. “Flex your hand a bit.”

“You could have warned me,” Uryuu hissed, even as he warily shuffled a bit closer and flexed his hand as ordered. Now that the shock of it had passed it wasn’t… the wound itself wasn’t painful, but his shoulder and arm were one long, dull throb. Urahara’s hand was like a vice around his wrist, implacable and inescapable, and Uryuu was abruptly reminded that… that he might have given up on everything combat related, but Urahara certainly hadn’t.

(He was a Quincy, his upper body shouldn’t be so… so weak!)

(Spiritual bow aside, it was still a bow and he used to… he used to be able…)

“If you do return in this body, ask my past self to help you retrain,” Urahara said absently as he tipped Uryuu’s hand to the side and then pressed a quick healing kido into his palm. And then, with a sidelong glance, Urahara let go of Uryuu’s wrist and swept his still-glowing hand up Uryuu’s arm, erasing the ache of trying to free himself. “Right then, take a seat and we’ll get started.”

“Y-yeah,” Uryuu murmured as he stepped around Urahara and towards the chair, rubbing at his arm in an effort to erase the weird tingling feeling Urahara’s kido had left behind.

(He didn’t remember Shinigami healing kido leaving such a strange feeling behind but… it had been over a decade.)

(Maybe he just… didn’t remember it?)

Awkwardly, he straddled the chair and tugged the towel from his shoulders, then winced at the sensation of wet hair against his back. “Ah, sorry. My hair…” he trailed off with a frown, even as he gathered his still-damp hair up in one hand and then… tried to figure out what to do with it. He didn’t have any hair ties on him, nor any idea how to actually put his hair into anything other than a quick tail—

“Here, let me,” Urahara said, stepping closer and casually grasping Uryuu’s hair and then… sweeping it upwards? A few tugs that Uryuu couldn’t follow, a moment of stillness broken by the soft rustle of Urahara digging something out of a pocket, and then he… tied it up with a hair tie? “There, that should keep it out of my way while I’m working.”

Uryuu swallowed and cast a brief glance over his shoulder at Urahara, before taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders as he sat up straight.

Only to flinch as Urahara poked him between the shoulder blades.

“Relax,” Urahara chided as he gently nudged Uryuu forward until he was braced against the back of the chair. “This is going to take a while. Being in a comfortable position that you can hold for a while is more important than holding some perfect posture that you think I need.”

Uryuu frowned but let Urahara do as he would, closing his eyes and tipping his head forward to rest atop his crossed arms. “Fine, if you think this best,” he muttered awkwardly, doing his best to ignore the prickly sensation of someone standing directly behind him. Within touching distance. While his shirt was off.

(Was it too late to second guess himself?)

(Couldn’t he just… shoo Urahara away and paint the array on himself?)

(Somehow?)

(Please?)

Urahara tugged the towel from his grip and swiped it across his back a few times, probably to make sure there wasn’t any water left, especially after his wet hair touched his back, but… but…

And then the towel was tossed aside, and Urahara’s large, warm hand settled between his shoulder blades, fingers spread and touch light but distinctly present and Uryuu couldn’t help but flinch before freezing, breath catching in his throat as he waited for Urahara to say something, to chide him, to… to remind him to stay still or— or—

“I’ll need to trace out the array first, before I begin drawing it properly,” Urahara said thoughtfully, one finger tapping lightly against Uryuu’s back as he spoke. “And I’m going to need to create links to your spiritual system at various points as well, which might feel a bit strange.”

Uryuu huffed and forced himself to relax again. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Get on with it, then. Before that ink you mixed up dries out and you have to steal more blood from me.”

Urahara laughed softly at that and said, “Alright, alright. Getting on with it as requested.” And then his hand slid across Uryuu’s back to his left shoulder, and a pinprick of power flared and sank into Uryuu’s body, settling into place and pulling at Uryuu’s reiryoku until it started to pool just beneath his skin. “Each anchor point needs a link,” Urahara explained as his hand traced a path across Uryuu’s back to repeat the process on his right shoulder. And then the base of his neck. And then twice down his side. A point on his spine. Up his other side.

Uryuu did his best to just… to just breathe, as Urahara’s hand traced its warm path across his back, leaving goosebumps in it wake alongside the pinpoints of power lurking just beneath his skin. He… he didn’t understand why his body was reacting so oddly, but it made something prickle in the back of his mind, something uncomfortable, something that he should remember but wasn’t—

“Good, you’re handling this well,” Urahara said breezily as his hand moved inwards and started tracing the next layer of anchor points into his skin. “I know this sort of reiryoku manipulation can be uncomfortable, so thank you for not trying to fight it.”

The breath caught in Uryuu’s throat at Urahara’s words, good and you’re handling this well and thank you echoing through his mind, making him want to retreat, to run away, even though it wasn’t anything bad…

(This wasn’t…)

(Why was Urahara saying things like that?)

“Just a bit more,” Urahara said as his hand moved inwards again, jarring Uryuu from his cycling thoughts. “And then I can start drawing it properly. The ink won’t be the most comfortable, unfortunately, but at least activating it should dry it quickly.”

Uryuu made another agreeable noise, mind still fixating on the sensation of Urahara’s hand moving across his back, warm-strong-assured as Urahara placed point after point until—

“There, all done!” Urahara chirped as he swiped his hand across Uryuu’s back once more and then lifted it away, though his other hand settled on Uryuu’s shoulder in its place. “Now, give me a moment to make sure the ink is still mixed through,” Urahara said, followed by the sound of scraping as he swirled his mixing tool around the bowl, and then— “There, now then. Take a breath for me and brace yourself, the first bit is always the worst.”

“And you would know this… how?” Uryuu grumbled, even as he did as ordered, waiting-waiting-waiting—

“Good, just like that,” Urahara murmured absently, right before a cold-wet-weird sensation settled on the pool of power at the base of his neck, making Uryuu want to twitch away despite both the warning and the hand gripping his shoulder.

Instead, he sucked in another breath and forced his body to remain still, digging the fingers of one hand into his other arm in lieu of actually moving.

“Good, very good,” Urahara praised as the sensation slid across his back to the point on his right shoulder, then on down his side. “Keep holding still just like that. This shouldn’t take too long so long as you keep steady.”

Already Uryuu could feel his power trickling into the lines of ink being traced across his back, the sensation almost like water inching across his skin, supremely distracting and supremely annoying.

(Not quite as distracting as the words Urahara kept speaking, though!)

(Why did he have to keep… keep praising him for some reason?)

(Ugh!)

“We’ll need to watch how it charges for a bit,” Urahara said as he kept drawing. “That should tell us how many days you’ll need to wait before we can trigger it.”

“This also means you can’t keep breaking my wards,” Uryuu pointed out with a soft huff. “Seeing as those wards are the only thing between me and anyone with reiatsu senses noticing that something’s happening here.”

“Maa, maa, I suppose I’ll cease playing the ward game in favor of letting you charge this array in peace,” Urahara teased lightly as he lifted the brush away and leaned over to dip it into the bowl again before bringing it back to continue drawing. “Since I suspect you don’t actually want anyone to know what you’re planning.”

“The ward game?” Uryuu asked sharply, tipping his head just enough to one side to see a sliver of Urahara’s body over his shoulder. Not that it did much, or that Urahara could see his expression at all, but he felt better narrowing his eye at the man anyway. “And no, I don’t want anyone to know, because I don’t want to deal with Kurosaki’s nagging or Inoue’s pouting, and you better not have told anyone.”

Urahara made an amused little noise, the hand still on Uryuu’s shoulder squeezing a bit as he did, and said, “I haven’t said a word other than that you were fine and had picked up an interest in spiritual arts again, so I had bullied my way into helping in order to learn Quincy arts too. And yes, the ward game— didn’t you, uh… you… didn’t realize? Ahahahaha… whoops?”

Uryuu waited just long enough for Urahara to lift the brush from his back again before heaving a sigh at the man’s absurdity. “No, Urahara, I just thought you were being your usual, obnoxious self,” he grumbled as he adjusted his position slightly and then stilled once more for Urahara to continue drawing. “Though… I suppose in hindsight it’s somewhat obvious, since you kept giving me advice. And seemed pleased whenever I did anything different… and when I added the traps…”

“You’ve been getting quite inspired with incorporating Quincy arts into it!” Urahara told him cheerfully. “A lot of people will have trouble breaking your wards down at this point.”

Uryuu couldn’t help but scoff at Urahara’s words. “You always shatter them in a few seconds, I doubt they’re that good—”

“Ishida-kun,” Urahara interrupted, voice serious as he squeezed Uryuu’s shoulder again. “You really shouldn’t base your estimations on ward strength on how quickly I can take them down. I was raised next to Shihoin Yoruichi, the heir to the Shihoin noble house and the next leader of the Onmitsukido. Ward infiltration and ward breaking is something I’ve been learning since I was significantly younger than you, right next to Yoruichi and Tessai. The three of us used to practice building and breaking wards constantly, especially whenever we got bored. There aren’t many people who have that sort of experience, and even fewer who have the knowledge of Quincy arts to go with it that are required to tackle yours.”

Uryuu blinked at Urahara’s words and then swallowed, pressing his face more firmly into his crossed arms as he tried to process exactly what Urahara was telling him.

(He was… actually decent at warding?)

(Despite how quickly Urahara could bring them down?)

(Really…?)

“Maa, well, I suppose you can test it out in the past!” Urahara offered cheerfully. “My past self will have about the same skill level at ward breaking, but not the same familiarity with Quincy arts that I’ve gained these past few weeks. Put something up and challenge him to break it, see how long it takes him. I bet it takes him nearly a full minute.”

“Are you… are you encouraging me to hassle your past self?” Uryuu asked in exasperation. “Urahara…”

Urahara pulled the brush away from Uryuu’s back right before bursting into laughter. “Don’t sound so offended!” he said between bursts of laughter. “It’ll be good for him to see something new like that!”

Uryuu heaved another sigh — it was fine, Urahara was still busy laughing instead of drawing — and said, “Fine, fine. If there’s an opportunity, I’ll give it a try.”

Behind him, Urahara’s laughter slowly petered out, until with a final breathy noise Urahara straightened back up and reached over to dip the brush back into the ink to resume drawing. “It will also help him figure out the Wandenreich’s wards early,” Urahara pointed out as he started working on the inner parts of the array, brush gliding steadily across Uryuu’s skin. “If you need a different reason that makes you feel less weird about it.”

“I suppose that’s a better reason,” Uryuu muttered without much conviction, because while helping Urahara figure out the Wandenreich’s wards early would be incredibly helpful, it was still obvious that this Urahara’s first inclination was just to make trouble for his past self.

“You suppose, hm?” Urahara teased as he lifted brush from Uryuu’s back again and refreshed the ink on it. “Only a bit more, then I need to draw the Shinigami seals to augment it, and then we can activate it.”

Uryuu hummed in agreement and did his best to settle his nerves, though he still couldn’t help but ask, “And you… really think this will work?” even though it was a bit late to be asking that, with most of the array already drawn across his back and power already beginning to leak into the lines.

“The probability is high,” Urahara answered him seriously, brush moving between the last few points on Uryuu’s back. “This isn’t that much different from the one we created together, I simply rearranged some points to allow a better balance, and you helped with the calculations on that one.”

“I know that,” Uryuu grumbled, a bit annoyed at himself for voicing such an absurd worry after already agreeing to use the array. “Sorry,” he murmured softly.

“Don’t,” Urahara said sharply, though he didn’t stop drawing. “Answer me this: are you second guessing your decision to go back, or just anxious about an unproven array?”

Uryuu didn’t need to think about that question very hard. “Anxious,” he answered. “I… there’s nothing here for me. Er… I mean…”

“Maa, maa, don’t bother trying to pretend for my sake,” Urahara said with a touch of amusement and absolutely nothing else that Uryuu could sense. “One person showing up late and badgering his way into your self-chosen project does not a purpose or better life make. Trust me, Ishida-kun, I understand. I’m pleased to have this opportunity to learn, and just as pleased that this will likely lead to something better for you.”

“You don’t make any sense at all,” Uryuu couldn’t help but complain, annoyed at the way something in him twisted at Urahara’s words. “Why do you care?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Urahara gave the brush a final swirl and lifted it from Uryuu’s back again, then paused a moment to dip it in the ink again. “Let me know if this starts to tickle. I need to start writing out the seals along the edges and that’s going to get a bit close to your sides, sorry.”

When Uryuu made a noise of agreement, Urahara brought the brush back down and started writing, motions smooth and flowing and graceful unlike most of the man’s handwriting. It was such a contrast, but Uryuu… got it, to an extent; his handwriting had certainly suffered as soon as he went to med school and learned all the shorthands, and he imagined that someone like Urahara – whose brain moved far quicker than his hand – tended to have about the same problem.

(At least Urahara still remembered how to write clearly…)

(He… didn’t know if he did, anymore…)

To take his mind off his twisting thoughts, Uryuu focused on the sensation of ink on skin, mentally tracing the path of the brush over his back as Urahara wrote out the seals one character at a time. These seals… weren’t connected to Uryuu’s reiryoku directly, he realized after a moment’s concentration. Instead, Urahara was priming the seals with his own reiatsu which… they hadn’t discussed before. It made a bit of sense when Uryuu considered it — Shinigami seals did need to be primed with power while they were being drawn, according to Urahara — but he hadn’t… actually considered what that need to be primed meant.

(And how it meant Urahara’s power would be pressed against his skin, against his senses, the entire time the array was charging.)

“Something wrong?” Urahara asked as he moved behind Uryuu and started the other side of the seals. “You’re doing good, just a bit more and we’ll be done.”

“No it’s… it’s fine,” Uryuu forced out, fighting the urge to squirm because of Urahara’s words. “It’s just a bit… distracting. Your power, I mean.”

The movement of the brush on Uryuu’s back paused for a moment, before Urahara cleared his throat and resumed working. “Ah, I suppose I didn’t consider that,” he said a touch apologetically. “It’s easiest to charge and activate these bits with my own power, but if it’s bothering you…”

“It’s fine, Urahara, I’ll get used to it,” Uryuu bit out before Urahara could say anything further. “I suppose if there’s any traces of your power left, it’ll be good evidence that you actually helped me, in case your past self doesn’t believe me.”

Urahara laughed softly as he stepped back, finally letting go of Uryuu’s shoulder and setting the brush down with a light click. “You could certainly do that, yes,” Urahara said, something that Uryuu couldn’t place lurking under the obvious amusement. “Since the Shinigami seals are the triggers of the array itself, but probably won’t be consumed by the travel itself, you’ll have some traces of my reiatsu on you so long as you return in this body. Along with the entire array itself. With my brushwork on your back.”

Uryuu wrinkled his nose and buried his face more firmly in his arms as embarrassment coursed through his body and made his cheeks heat. He— he’d known that, and yet he had to say something stupid about reiatsu traces instead of keeping his mouth shut. Why did he have to—

Urahara’s hand settled atop his head and ruffled his hair, pulling strands free of the hair tie Urahara had put in not long ago. “Maa, maa, none of that, now,” Urahara chided gently, before laughing and hopping backwards as Uryuu swatted at his arm. “You’re anxious and fixating, it’s a normal reaction to such an ambitious idea.”

“Do this often, then?” Uryuu couldn’t help but mutter into his arms.

“Well, not this exactly,” Urahara answered archly. His fingers brushed across Uryuu’s shoulder, then over to sweep away the strands of hair tickling the back of Uryuu’s neck, leaving yet more goosebumps in their wake. “But there have been plenty of other ambitious ideas in my life that have left me feeling similar.”

Uryuu hummed noncommittally in response; he supposed he could believe that, but he’d certainly never noticed anything similar when he was a teen.

(Not that that meant anything.)

(There were… a lot of things he’d never noticed as a teen.)

(Unfortunately…)

Silence settled over the room, as Urahara’s hand settled back on his shoulder, thumb stretching down to nearly touch one of the lines making up the array. And then they remained like that, the warmth of Urahara’s hand sinking into Uryuu’s shoulder and Urahara’s attention focused until—

“Okay, I think it’s stabilized enough to activate it,” Urahara said, his other hand settling on Uryuu’s side, thumb and forefinger stretched to frame the Shinigami seal on that side. “Try not to fight it when it pulls at your reiryoku, but don’t let it pull too much,” Urahara warned, right before pouring power into the seal, which immediately lit up to Uryuu’s senses, and then—

And then, it was like being in Yhwach’s presence all over again, as the array grabbed and yanked at Uryuu’s powers, dragging them up from beneath his skin and twisting—

(Twisting like his powers had once — forever — been twisted into a new shape, into a new path, to satisfy a madman out to rule the Three Worlds—)

He bit his lip. Pressed his face further into his arms. Tried to breathe through the sensation of power flooding into the lines across his back and then sinking back beneath his skin, tying his powers into the array and dragging warm-focused-determined droplets of Urahara’s power along with it.

He could feel it. He could feel it. Feel the way the power flowed through the lines. Feel the way it twisted-shimmered-writhed along, too much too fast too strong—

A hand settled on his head again, fingers brushing across his scalp. A murmur in his ear that he couldn’t understand, calming-urging-coaxing—

(Breathe, you’re alright, just breathe, relax, you’re safe you’re safe you’re safe…)

—and he sucked in a breath. Clamped down on his emotions — on his control — until the rush of power tapered into something reasonable and the writhing eddies finally began to die down and he felt less like drowning and more like floating. Flexed his hands and tipped his head to press into the hand — Urahara’s hand — resting on his hair, a grounding presence that let him claw his way out of his internal focus and back to the world around him.

Urahara’s quiet murmurs — you’re safe, just breathe for me, everything’s fine — trailed off as Uryuu slowly dragged in a breath, heaved a sigh, and finally lifted his head to squint into the suddenly too-bright light of his apartment.

“What the fuck was that,” Uryuu couldn’t help but grit out, annoyed by the sudden exhaustion dragging at his limbs and how bright everything was and how even moving seemed like a chore. “That wasn’t… what happened?” When Urahara stayed silent behind him, clearly debating an answer, Uryuu groaned and forced his hands to let go of the chair back in order to swipe blindly behind him at the man. “Urahara…”

Urahara chuckled and caught his arm in a gentle grip. “Sorry, sorry,” he said as he brought Uryuu’s arm back around to rest atop the back of the chair again. “I wish I had a good explanation for you, but from what I noticed, it seemed like your reiryoku flooded into the array faster than either of us expected. You got it under control quickly, though.”

“Not quickly enough,” Uryuu groused as he turned his head enough to glower at Urahara. “How badly did that mess the array up?”

“It didn’t,” Urahara told him firmly, finally removing his hand from Uryuu’s head only to bring it down to skim across Uryuu’s back. “The array is activated and seems to be linked correctly. I don’t see or sense any issues. It’s just… a bit more powered up than expected, which is why you’re so tired now.”

Uryuu scoffed. On one hand, he doubted that Urahara would lie to him about something like this, but on the other hand… on the other hand, that certainly hadn’t felt normal.

Except… except when he let his eyes slip closed and took a moment to breathe and reassess himself… nothing really seemed different, precisely? His Schrift felt a bit closer to the surface than usual, but that he assumed was just a result of like calling to like. Maybe that was even the cause of the surge?

(Did his Schrift… react as if the array was dangerous and attempt to unmake it?)

(Or perhaps the array caught on the ‘past’ aspect of Antithesis and pulled at it, and thus at his reiryoku, harder than expected?)

(…)

(Well, either way, it didn’t matter.)

“Come on, up you come. You can’t sleep here.” Urahara’s amused voice broke through Uryuu’s thoughts, followed by a hand on his shoulder tugging him backwards. “Up,” Urahara repeated as he wrapped an arm around Uryuu’s chest and pulled. “If I let you fall asleep here, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

There weren’t many options but to follow Urahara’s directions, Uryuu mused as the man hauled him upright without a single sign of strain, despite Uryuu not really cooperating with him. Nor did Urahara seem to react to Uryuu pettily leaning his entire weight on him, beyond a brief huff of laughter and a quick re-adjustment to sling one of Uryuu’s arms over his shoulder. Nor did Urahara seem bothered by needing to drag Uryuu the handful of steps to the couch—

Where he promptly let go of Uryuu’s arm and gave his chest a shove and sent him toppling backwards onto the couch without even a hint of warning. The bastard.

“That better not have messed anything up,” Uryuu growled as he swiped at Urahara’s legs, only for the man to hop backwards before he could reach. “Are you planning on staying here to watch me sleep again?”

Urahara gave a noncommittal hum as he leaned back in and poked at Uryuu’s shoulder, his reiatsu skittering across Uryuu’s skin and to his back where—

Where it was immediately absorbed by the array.

“Once activated there’s only a few ways to remove it, and tossing you around is not one of them,” Urahara said with a touch of amusement, before moving back to the table and beginning to fuss at the things on it. “And, so long as you don’t mind too much, I do intend to stay at least until you wake up again. I don’t think anything unusual will happen while you sleep, but I would prefer to be on hand until we know for sure.”

Uryuu frowned, staring up at the ceiling as he considered it. Medically, it made more sense than it didn’t — they’d just done the spiritual equivalent of an untested procedure, after all — and he’d already slept twice while Urahara was present, once on the couch, even, which was… actually a bit odd, now that he was thinking about it.

(When did he grow so comfortable around the man?)

“At least bring me a blanket this time,” Uryuu settled on at last, pulling his glasses off and reaching over to set them on the arm of the couch again, then draped his arm over his eyes to block the light. “Hall closet, opposite the bathroom,” he added to preempt any questions Urahara might have. “There… should be some in there. I think.” At least, there was if he’d remembered to put them away properly after winter was over. He couldn’t remember if he did, but… probably.

Urahara chuckled and set whatever he was holding down in order to wander off down the hall. Uryuu heard the closet door open then close again, followed by Urahara’s footsteps coming back.

“Find anything?” Uryuu asked.

“Maa, I wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so…” Urahara began, before weight suddenly landed on Uryuu’s chest. “I brought all of them!” Urahara chirped.

Uryuu groaned in exasperation and shoved the stack of blankets off his chest and onto the floor beside him. “I hate you,” he muttered as he leaned over and squinted at the small stack, then reached out to grab the top one — thin, brown, fairly comfortable if he remembered right — and hauled it over his body. “Go put the rest back, will you?”

Urahara made a soft noise of amusement and knelt next to the toppled stack of blankets. “Maa, maa, so demanding, Ishida-kun,” he teased. “Get some rest. We can talk about how you plan to change the past when you wake back up.”

Uryuu grunted in agreement and rolled onto his side, tucking his head partially under the blanket; a tiny part of him was annoyed that Urahara wanted to talk about his plans, but mostly he was just… reassured. Urahara’s plans tended to be brutally efficient and often more than a little terrifying, but they also tended to work.

(And, well… his plans currently consisted of ‘make different choices, don’t become a doctor again’, so anything was better than nothing.)

(…Urahara probably knew that, hm…)

(Oh well.)

He could hear Urahara fussing with the blankets in the hallway then walking back to the table, his steps quieter than usual but not silent, and that… that made something in Uryuu’s chest twist.

(Urahara could be completely silent, Uryuu knew that, and yet…)

(…)

“Urahara… thanks,” Uryuu forced out, before wincing and tugging the blanket higher over his head in embarrassment.

Silence descended, abrupt and startled, before Urahara softly said, “Maa, of course. Ishida-kun asked, after all.”

Uryuu swallowed at that and pressed his face into the pillow under his head; Urahara could be taking his thanks as more immediate and being about the blankets, despite Uryuu never thanking him for doing something before, or…

Or he could be talking about the whole… everything. Research and potential time travel and planning and being here… because Uryuu had asked for help.

(And Urahara had given it.)

(Immediately and without question.)

Uryuu took a careful breath. Another. Tugged the blanket closer and curled up tighter and breathed, careful and quiet and steady.

(He… was not going to think about it anymore.)

(He couldn’t.)

(Fuck…)