Kisuke had been trying to keep the boy away from a true fight.

Phantom had been a close call, though it was unlikely that the Hollow would even bother to fight back against the much weaker Grayson. Kisuke had been worried what a true fight would awaken in the kid, what secrets it might uncover. He had thrown him at boring fight after boring fight, Hollows that even some monks or priests with very little spiritual sensitivity could beat.

Kisuke was almost relieved when Suzumi had told him that Grayson had been savaged by a Hollow, thinking that maybe it’d hamper the boy’s progression towards battle, the same path that so many others had followed—even including himself.

But when the boy had come back to the Kisuke’s little sweets shop, the illusion was lifted, and Kisuke was left with the reality. Grayson had always felt powerful, despite his actual lack of power, mostly due to his soul being inflated beyond belief. Now, though, Grayson felt sharp.

Kisuke had spent so many years in Soul Society in many different capacities. As a trainee, as an inventor and scientist, as a warden for the deepest pits they could throw people in, as a Court Guard Captain. Kisuke’s combat ability, while certainly a cut above the rest, was weak and flimsy in comparison to some of the others. He had manufactured his own power, using new techniques and intellect to bridge the gap between those who’s entire being seemed devoted to their martial strength.

In one of the many conversations he’d had with old man Genryusai, most of them being thinly veiled dressing-downs, one of the compliments that he had received from the man had been on his eyes. Not their boring grey colour, of course, but his ability to see things in others before they manifested—whether that was greatness and power, or deep evil. Once, Kisuke had even trusted those eyes fully, though he was more careful now and far less arrogant.

So, when Kisuke had seen Grayson’s first fight with Uyu, the little girl beating him to a paste, there was no doubt in his mind. Grayson was a collection of unknowns as vast as the sea he described his soul as—but the way that Kisuke could contain the risk of those unknowns, was to afford Grayson as much control, without actually having practical use of it.

It really didn’t matter how physically powerful you were if you’d never fought before. Someone with any practical skill would wipe the floor with you. Kisuke was finding it easier and easier to admit that he was scared of Grayson, and that anyone would be foolish not to be. Kisuke was especially scared of what would happen when Grayson was given a real fight and a real challenge.

He had seen Grayson on that day as a foreign blade, strange and unique, with no clear understanding of how it was supposed to be used. It was unedged—dulled from misuse, travel, and lack of maintenance. However, as Grayson walked into the door of his little store, Kisuke didn’t even need to see him to feel the difference.

Grayson had found his blade and sharpened it on the bones of an enemy. He wasn’t an expert in it, or even amateur, but having found it at all was enough. The cat was out of the bag, now, and putting it back inside would require killing it.

It didn’t take long for Grayson to find him, sitting in the conference room that had been so rarely used before Grayson had arrived. The boy walked in with an exactness that radiated through his being, released from the mire and confusion of finding a purpose that resonated.

“You fought like shit.” Kisuke stated without preamble. Grayson grimaced, his stride faltering just a little before he sat himself onto a pillow.

“I know, it was a mess.” Grayson agreed, with a little hesitation. At least he wasn’t combative about it, as too many were about their own failings.

“We don’t know how hardy your body really is against injury and you allowed yourself to take far too much damage. If you do something so stupid again, I’ll come and kill you personally.” Kisuke’s voice rang out with the same one he had developed at a Captain so long ago. It wasn’t as impressive as Tessai’s own commanding voice, but Kisuke liked to think that his held a certain other quality.

“…that’s fair.” Grayson said, goosebumps visibly gracing his skin against the icy tones of Kisuke’s voice.

“More than fair. In fact, if you were a Soul Reaper trainee, you’d be thrown out before you could even apologise.” Kisuke and Grayson let the silence sit for a while. Kisuke’s own grey eyes met with Grayson’s blue cornea, the mishmash of Japanese and more western features only adding to the effect of his bright eyes.

“So,” Grayson began tentatively, “I want to fight more like Hollows like that and–”

“And die a horrible death in the process, allowing to Hollow that killed you access to a soul powerful enough to blow up my machines?” Kisuke interrupted ruthlessly. Grayson opened his mouth to speak in protest again, but Kisuke continued.

“That’s how you get yourself actually killed, Grayson. There are more strong Hollows in Karakura town than you think, and if you go around killing anything but the common rabble, they start to get aggressive. I’d have thought your injuries would have taught you a lesson.” Grayson, counter to what Kisuke expected, grinned widely.

“It did teach me a lesson. Don’t get hit.” Grayson laughed at his own joke, but Kisuke saw it deeper than that. While it was a joke, it was also the truth, and it reminded Kisuke of someone else that he’d rather not equate Grayson with. A scary, extremely powerful hoodlum. Kisuke dropped his Captain-ly presence and decided to make it cut and dry.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“You want to fight?” He asked softly, making Grayson’s grin fall away, “Then you can fight. I won’t stop you or hamper you. But I want you to understand something, Grayson. This is the path of death.” The soft words had a much larger effect, Grayson’s face returning to its neutrality and seriousness.

“I know, Kisuke. No-one has told me the stories of Ichigo and his crew, but they walked that line, didn’t they?” Grayson asked just as softly, and Kisuke nodded. “How many of the strongest in Soul Society have walked that line, or still walk it?” Kisuke didn’t respond, the answer evident. Even he had walked that line, his Bankai training only being one such time.

“And even now, Ichigo Kurosaki is off in some other dimension with the rest of his family, walking that line. Are you going to tell me that the path of death is not also the path of life? That they aren’t intermingled in whatever cosmic way they are?” It was a simple sentence, one not more profound than any other that Grayson could have chosen, but it reminded Kisuke of Genryusai. How many times had Kisuke desperately tried to convince the man of that very same thing?

Kisuke’s chuckle came to his throat unbidden. It surprised both Kisuke and Grayson so much that it could only escalate from there. As the peals of laughter sprouted from Kisuke’s chest, he had a wonderful moment of sonder—like a one-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle spontaneously completing itself within his mind. He had been so frustrated with Genryusai during his youth, even though he had afforded much of the stability that Soul Society had to offer, but he was so conservative.

Kisuke had been a trailblazer, establishing scientific divisions and rocking the boat from within, but it’d all come down to whether Genryusai allowed it to happen. Each new idea being shot down had wounded Kisuke, an endless frustration with the man who had restricted him. Now, Kisuke found himself in much the same situation that Genryusai had.

It was a strange feeling, being in the other chair all of a sudden. Now Genryusai made so much more sense, each of his rejected inventions could be used to harm and start wars that would have no positive outcome. Kisuke knew what it was, now. It was the wars that he’d been in, the scars that he’d received in them. They were terrifying apparitions of what could be, constantly looming over his head like a ghost of the past, whispering in his ear to never forget.

Yet Genryusai had been wrong. He’d even admitted as much, from what he’d heard. Ichigo Kurosaki had turned it all of Soul Society on its head, and Genryusai had allowed himself to change as the winds blew in the direction opposite from where he wanted to walk. Now that Kisuke sat here, he realised how terrifying that was for him, giving up his life’s ethos for the sake of the world he commanded—all on the whim of one teenage boy.

And here Kisuke was, desperately trying to plug the holes in the dam, just as Genryusai had done.

“Fine.” Kisuke said, finally putting an end to his laughter, the young man in front of him barely able to do the same. “You can fight, with backup of course, but you can do it.” The words, as they left Kisuke’s lips, almost hurt. They made Kisuke’s position vulnerable and weak, leaving a feeling of regret in his chest.

“But you’ll need to start on some new training, something a little more… involved than what you’re currently doing.” The grin on Kisuke’s face was one he hadn’t worn in a long time, lost to a world that had killed all whimsy in the man. Now, it had returned on his face and it felt right, like it should have stayed there all along. Grayson’s eyes narrowed and, with a little bob his throat, spoke suspiciously.

“How involved, exactly?”

----------------------------------------

“Uh, Kisuke?” I called from within the large metal contraption I’d been put inside. It’s outside had looked like a large, metal ball, but the insides were much more complicated looking. I was placed on a large panel of thick metal that acted as elevated flooring above machinery beneath. I was surrounded on all sides, including in an upwards direction, by strange components that were almost reminiscent of tesla coils. Each pointed towards the very centre of the spherical housing, connected to each other by jumbles of wires that clearly weren’t strictly organised.

Kisuke didn’t respond to my nervous calling, leaving me to flicker my eyes from coil to coil, each protruding rod had a multitude of donut shaped things attached to them. I couldn’t identify the materials used, apart from just general plastics or metals, but those materials didn’t glow with spiritual energy.

“Yes?” Kisuke answered finally, popping his head out from underneath the elevated platform within the contraption. His face was still filled with that grin that he’d gained in our little conversation.

“Do you mind telling me what the hell this thing is supposed to be?” Kisuke looked at me dumbly for a second, before looking around at the device with a stupid look on his face.

“I dunno, bought it off of Alibaba.” And then he disappeared into the belly of the machine once again, my groan the only noise other than a slight chuckle. I waited for a while, hearing the odd clang or sound of some tool or another as Urahara did whatever his mad genius compelled him to do. After a final sound, Kisuke reappeared on the outside of the machine, looking into it towards me with a glint of delight in his eye.

“Are you ready, Grayson?” The man grinned wolfishly at my scandalised expression.

“Ready for what, Kisuke? What the fuck is this thing?” I said, waving an arm wildly around the metal sphere.

“Oh hey, probably don’t want to do that. The instruction manual says that they explode if you hit ‘em.” My arm snapped to my side in an instant, though all I got for my troubles was a grin from the dishevelled man.

“So anyway, I’m going to push the button now. See you in a bit!” Kisuke said, his hand slamming into said button, and making the whole thing whir to live around me, the noise of cooling solutions and buzzing electronics livening the almost dead silent interior.

“Kisuke!” I yelled over the noise, legitimate anger filling my tone, but the hatch that I had walked through to get into the contraption began to lower, as I did. Kisuke followed just under the door with his face filled with humour.

“Don’t worry, give me a sec to read the instruction manual!” He called, before the door shut with a clang and silence filled the room for just a moment, letting me hear a rustle of paper from just outside the door.

“Oh shit. It’s all in German.”

Just as I was about to shout any number of obscenities, the sounds began again, but much louder. I was almost knocked to the ground with their intensity, the sensitivity of my hearing working against me as I stood in the loudest environment I could imagine. It was like standing in a jet engine, but the escalation of sound never stopped, only growing and growing. Each moment felt like the next would be the climax point.

I never heard the end of the crescendo. At a certain point, the sound became too painful to bear, even my own screaming felt like nothing as the sound vibrated my body so extremely. I screwed my eyes shut against the pain, the noise, the entire world, letting the darkness of my eyelids soothe my mind and the noise disappeared from my mind completely. Too completely, in fact.

When I reopened my eyes, wondering if Kisuke had turned the machine off, I was instead met with quite the sight.

My eyes were filled with an infinite number of stars.