Title: Temporal Displacement (Really Sucks)
Author: darkling59
Fandom: Bleach
Date: 8/23/2014
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach in any way, shape, or form.

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Ichigo scowled, doing his level best to burn holes in the back of Urahara's head with the force of his glare alone. That little electricity surprise had hurt.

At least the captain had proven as good as his word; after the brief painful jolt of electricity, Ichigo had blacked out for a few seconds and when he came to, he was no longer tied down. Instead, all of the straps had fitted to his body, merging together where they touched and creating a sort of seamless power-sealing lattice stretching from his neck all the way to his ankles. The lines felt stretchy and rubbery; odd, but not that uncomfortable.

…Though he still felt sorta naked, wearing only those straps and his pants. He really wished he knew where Zangetsu was…or a shirt…

Despite the fact that his powers were still bound, his first action upon being released was to jump up and make a break for the door.

Immediately, there was s sharp tug at his ankles and his face met the floor.

Apparently Urahara had seen fit to attach a hobble between his ankles so he couldn't run. All he could do was…well…hobble.

The captain was not surprised or offended by the escape attempt, or in the least bit remorseful about the new restraint, and despite Ichigo's protests the blond man cheerfully helped him up and pushed him into a chair he'd found somewhere (odd…Ichigo would swear the room didn't have any other furniture…), which was now placed facing the lab bench the vizard had been lying on, as if the padded surface was a kitchen table rather than a slab in a lab.

"Oh dear, Hollow-san, that looked like it hurt!"

"What…ow…what did you do?" Ichigo was still rubbing at his nose where it had painfully smacked into the metal floor.

"Nothing, nothing…! Well, nothing important anyway. But I daresay you will remain our guest for a bit longer!"

And that led to the substitute shinigami's current situation sitting and glaring mutinously while the scientist ignored him. The captain of the twelfth division was humming a cheerful little tune as he shifted unseen things around on the counter at the other end of the room.

"Here we go!" Apparently finished (finally), he turned around with a tray and set it down on the table with a flourish. 'I'm afraid I don't know what you like, Hollow-san. Whatever strikes your fancy, I suppose!"

The tray was covered in an array of small metal dishes filled with various kinds of food…or what was probably supposed to be food. Ichigo had never seen most of it before. There were small fruits and rice dishes along one edge (relatively recognizable), oddly colored and shaped candy-looking pill-things in bowls in the middle (kinda weird- but hey, this was Urahara), and what looked like a different colors of glowing gelatin along the other side. He pulled back in alarm when a dish of neon blue 'gelatin' suddenly emitted a spray of pink sparks and an opaque red one shifted towards him alarmingly, all on its own. He hoped he was imagining the accompanying tinny growl.

"Uh…" He shot Urahara a confused, questioning look. That could not be edible…could it?

"Don't be shy. Take all the time you need!" The shinigami had a cup of normal-looking tea for himself – he didn't appear interested in sharing the 'bounty'. Not that Ichigo blamed him…

"I told you, I'm not hungry." He muttered, though most of his attention remained on the 'food', warily watching the less-palatable looking dishes. "What is all of this?"

"Just various delicacies I thought might tempt your appetite. There's no need to hide it…I know you're hungry, Hollow-san. You have been here for over six hours, and hollows typically eat at least every hour. Well…" He cocked his head to one side, apparently thinking, although Ichigo knew he probably had the fact ready on the tip of his tongue. "Hollows with intact mental faculties such as yourself, that is. Intelligence and deeper thought processes decrease as the time between meals increases."

"I'm not…" the instinctive protest came to an abrupt halt as the shinigami's eyes sharpened instantly. Internally, Ichigo cursed his lapse. He wasn't supposed to be revealing anything about the vizards, or the possibility of hybrids.

"…Yes?"

"…Nothing." His eyes skated past Urahara, refusing to meet his eyes, and instead lit on a relatively harmless looking dish of blueberries. If he had to brave the food of the twelfth division in order to keep up his cover (what little was left of it), then at least he could start with something he actually recognized.

Urahara, noticing his reluctance, misinterpreted the source and shot him an apologetic smile.

"Unfortunately, I have not been able to acquire any hollows for you to devour yet. I am certain you understand that we cannot furnish you with human souls due to-."

"Right, that's fine." Ichigo hastily cut him off, feeling ill. If they tried to feed him souls of any kind, he would…well, he'd refuse, but he'd want to make a big deal out of it. To forestall any other well-meaning but disconcerting comments, Ichigo reached out and picked a blueberry out of the dish (there were no utensils). After examining it dubiously, he popped it into his mouth. It tasted a bit watery, like it was out of season, but recognizable.

He reached out and took another.

Urahara watched with avid interest as his specimen unenthusiastically picked through the nutrient samples, mentally noting down the dietary choices to add to his file later. (He'd tactfully decided that bringing his notebook to the table would not be well-received.) Surprisingly, the boy had gone directly for the more human-based dishes rather than the nutrient-rich reishi pills or the solidified artificial reiatsu gel, both of which were typically more appealing to hollows. The fractured souls always targeted the food highest in spirit energy to forestall their eternal hunger, and their keen senses of smell and taste could unerringly figure out which dish that was on the first try. This one hadn't even sniffed at the plates!

As the subject fastidiously picked another berry out, Urahara noted that he ate more like a human as well; he had none of the savagery and desperation of a hollow.

How fascinating.

It seemed the boy…and he truly was a boy, the tests on his age had proved conclusively that he was less than two decades old, practically an infant next to the long lived hollows and shinigami…was truly not a hollow, as he'd been so eager to protest (even if he'd unwillingly stifled the words, his intent had been obvious).

But then, what was he?

Not a shinigami; despite his uniform, he was far too young, powerful, and strange to have gone through the academy without anyone noticing. And he did not immediately defer to rank or expect treatment or punishment for his abilities and actions.

Not a hollow; hunger, aggression, and the overwhelming desire to feed on souls – instincts hollows required in order to simply persist, let alone to rise to a state of mental cognition near that of a human or shinigami - could not be ignored by hollows in the way he thoughtlessly rejected them. It was physically impossible. He also had no hollow hole.

Not a human; his form was undeniably a disconnected soul rather than a converted physical body – Urahara's tests had proved it

So what did that leave?

Quincy? Not with a mask like that.

An artificial construct? Unlikely – he was far too independently minded.

A hybrid? Impossible. How would such a creature even come into being? Hollows and shinigami could not breed. Even if they wanted to (and the thought made something inside the scientist squirm uncomfortably even as his logical mind examined the concept with interest), all hollows were sterile.

As Urahara watched the boy pick through his treats, specially chosen to represent tastes, nutrient levels, and reiatsu levels to appeal to different types of souls and levels of hollows, the well-oiled wheels of his mind whirred frantically, searching for an explanation. After all, there had to be one - his evidence was sitting right in front of him. So far, the multitude of physical tests he'd performed while the boy was unconscious and the observations he'd made while he was awake had been inconclusive. (A fact for which head-captain Yamamoto was not happy; barely an hour passed without Urahara receiving a hell-butterfly demanding a status update on 'the security concern'.)

The lack of results thus far only made the captain of the twelfth division more determined to unravel the mystery.

Uryu found it surprisingly easy to sneak into the fourth division. There were no guards and the only shinigami around were medics rushing through the corridors, paying no mind to an unfamiliar, vaguely confused looking stranger as they tried to handle the multitudes of injured shinigami from the accidentally-spectacular 'distraction' that had resulted in Ichigo's capture. It probably helped that he'd filched a shinigami uniform from their laundry room on his way in; he assumed they thought he was a member of a different division.

Without any idea of where to go or what to do, he wandered the halls, trying to appear busy and destination-bound. He strode confidently down hallways and through rooms, looking around with the severe expression that he normally wore when he didn't want to be disturbed. Most of them gave him a wide berth.

However, he quickly realized that while this kept him from being pegged as an intruder and a stranger, it did not get him any closer to his goal. The shinigami did not talk around him and his confident wandering kept him from eavesdropping to pick up relevant information. There wasn't really any way to fix it; he could either stop entirely and look suspicious or continue looking for the cells himself and take twice as long navigating the warren of confusing rooms and corridors. That was, of course, provided nobody noticed his 'confident steps' were taking him in circles and called security on him, and that he didn't accidentally stumble into a restricted area.

He was considering the problem when he noticed a new reiatsu signature enter the building, a familiar strong aura that stood out amongst the meager flickers of the unranked fourth division members. The familiarity wasn't a relief…just sensing it made his skin crawl and he grit his teeth. It felt slimy and revolting; every time he experienced it, he imagined the reiatsu as oozing black goo, seeping into and poisoning everything that…thing…touched.

Uryu despised Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

Unfortunately, the…shinigami…(These days, since he had friends among their ranks, he rarely used the word as a slur, but he refused to call Mayuri a man – doing so would make him sound too human) was headed in his direction, moving quickly and sending lesser shinigami scurrying away in fear from his path. Before he could reach Uryu's hallway, the Quincy scanned for an escape route (even if Mayuri didn't notice him, Uryu knew he wouldn't be able to keep is cool his presence) and ducked through a small door at the end of a corridor, finding himself in a supply room full of clean towels and bed linens. He closed the door behind him and waited for the shinigami to pass.

He didn't.

Mayuri stopped at the juncture at the end of the hallway, frustration boiling through his reiatsu. For a moment, Uryu was heart-stoppingly certain that he somehow knew about him and was in fact chasing him.

"Sarugaki!" The painted monster yelled, typically quiet voice cracking on the higher syllables. "Where are you, you inspid-."

"What the fuck do you want, freak?" Hiyori Sarugaki – current lieutenant, future vizard – cut him off, emerging from further down the hallway.

Mayuri drew himself up and glared down at the small girl who stared back, eminently unimpressed. "The captain-" He spit the word like a curse. "-requires your assistance."

"Me? What for? He's got you for all that science crap."

"I am no longer permitted to interact with the hollow prisoner." The statement was hissed through gritted teeth. "Even though my techniques would be far more efficient and-."

Hidden in the closet, Uryu's ears perked up. He leaned his head against the door, listening closely. They had to be talking about Ichigo.

Hiyori cut him off with a rude snort. "Like I haven't heard that before."

"It is more efficient to-."

"Pull the other one." She snapped. Uryu was reluctantly amused – he'd never interacted with the Hiyori of his own time, but he was gratified by how she treated Mayuri. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure she treated everyone else the same way.

Mayuri's sneer came through in his voice. "The captain-."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll go see what the moron wants."

"Indeed." As her sharp footsteps echoed down the corridor, each loud tap a testament to her annoyance, Mayuri continued to speak, muttering to himself without realizing he had an audience. "It would be far more efficient and informative to simply vivisect the creature; if it truly has intelligence, I could always keep the head intact for questioning until last…"

Uryu barely restrained himself from attacking the man; he was so close…He could probably get an arrow into his head before anyone realized what was happening. He wasn't Kurosaki, he reminded himself; he had more self-control than that.

"Urahara is far too soft." Mayuri sneered, voice starting to fade as he finally moved away. "Once the second ryoka is apprehended, the fool won't be able to keep them both from me. I will be able to…" His voice trailed off before he could list the tortures and 'experiments' he was planning to use on the 'second ryoka', i.e.: Uryu.

The Quincy nearly snarled at the thought; he'd be more than happy to show that bastard exactly what he was capable of. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure Mayuri was human enough for death to take, and considering the impact he'd had on Uryu's own time stream, killing him in the past would be a bad idea.

At least he knew where Ichigo was being held now.

…But how on earth was he going to get into the twelfth division?

Author's Notes:

Howdy! I am, in fact, still alive. And this story has not been discontinued. Sadly, it is on hiatus and will remain as such (probably until I manage to edit two of my old fics to completion and restart Souls Without), but I promise I haven't forgotten about it.

I should mention that the 'source timeline' that Ichigo and Uryu are from does not have a specific time frame from the series…in theory, the Winter War has passed but Ichigo regained his powers to roughly the level he was at the second time he fought Grimmjow. There was no loss of powers after the Winter War (or, if there was, it was very temporary and regaining them did not tie him to Soul Society any closer), no Fullbringer arc, and definitely no Quincy arc.

Hm…oh, right (I keep forgetting to mention this bit): none of the retcons and 'changes to canon' that have been made in the Quincy arc will be included. Yes, I know several new rules and 'revelations' of the Bleach universe now blatantly and directly contradict the rules as stated in the past, but…well…I don't care. The old Bleach universe is the one I came to love, so that is the one I am using. (By that, I mean the plotline that ended when Ichigo lost his powers before the Fullbringer arc. That felt like a very natural stopping point and everything after just rings hollow, in my opinion.)

Anyhow…I hope you enjoyed the update. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!

(To everyone who reviewed last chapter: You guys are awesome. Thanks so much!)