Characters: Hiyori, Urahara
Summary: For all her claims to hate the man, out of all the Vizard Hiyori was the only one who ever visited Urahara.
Pairings: None
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Turn Back the Pendulum arc. T for language.
Timeline: Pre-manga
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

"I see you remembered to leave your shoes at the door this time, Hiyori-san." Urahara was unsurprised to see that Hiyori had paid yet another unannounced visit to his shop, without bothering to knock or even ask to come in.

Hiyori was sitting on the edge of a countertop, short, skinny little legs swinging consciously off of the edge, nearly a foot's worth of space between the soles of her feet and the floor. The familiar scowl was present on her surly face, her blonde pigtails practically trembling with sullen irritation.

"Screw you." Hiyori's typical introduction, as she folded her arms around her narrow chest. "It's not like I've gotta take off my shoes when I'm in a shop. I just didn't want Tessai ragging me again about that; he never shuts his mouth once you get him going. Bastard," she muttered, brown eyes lowering; the last word had been more aimed at Urahara than Tessai.

Urahara, himself, only smiled gently in a manner reminiscent of their days as captain and lieutenant of the Twelfth division. "I am so pleased to find you your usual charmingly profane self, Hiyori-san."

The little Vizard snorted, exposing one sharp, elongated canine. "Whatever." There was no heat in her muttered syllables.

Busying himself with putting some of his products up on the shelves, Urahara called, "To what do I owe this visit? And I am glad to see you back to normal, Hiyori-san; as I seem to recall, at your last visit you weren't yourself."

Hiyori snorted. By that, he meant that she hadn't been verbally and physically attacking every person she saw, and hadn't cussed out Urahara as way of greeting. She hadn't thought he'd be complaining about that, to be honest, but for some reason he had gotten awfully concerned and started making inquiries into her emotional state that, quite frankly, Hiyori found to be both disturbing and irritating. Urahara hadn't stopped prying until Hiyori had lured him in and struck him upside the head; that, apparently, had reassured her former captain.

Hiyori-san. Somehow, she just hated it when Urahara got so formal. "Nothing," Hiyori answered, still sullen, brown eyes shifting about the room. "Is Yoruichi around?"

"Yoruichi-san comes and goes as she pleases. I haven't seen her in a week."

"That figures." Hiyori's face soured; she actually enjoyed Yoruichi's company when the older woman was being normal and not weird and hyperactive like she could end up getting. Of course, Urahara was usually acting pretty strange at the same time as Yoruichi, so she had some suspicions about that. Still, Hiyori would have liked to have talked to her.

Hiyori shouldn't have counted on the nomadic Yoruichi to stay in one place for very long unless it was important.

Urahara resumed re-stocking his shelves. It was silent in the shop; Hiyori didn't have a clue as to where Tessai and those two kids Jinta and Ururu were. Bright sunlight poured in from the window. Eventually, Hiyori joined Urahara in silence, carrying boxes and inventory, following his lead as they essentially re-stocked the shelves of Urahara's store. This had been their basic dynamic in their days as captain and lieutenant; when Hiyori wasn't screaming, hollering, kicking or all-around pitching a fit, she was generally helping out around the division headquarters in dour silence.

Eventually, Urahara shot a critical look down at her. "You're looking quite…haggard. Are you having trouble sleeping; I have something here that can help with that…and for a reasonable price, too."

"Shut up," Hiyori retorted angrily. "My sleeping habits aren't none of your damned business!" Again, no heat in her words.

"Hmm." Urahara's hummed response was maddening, but Hiyori wasn't about to say anything. She could recognize when she was being baited; she was older now, more mature, and Hiyori knew better.

"Was there anything you wanted to talk about, Hiyori-san?"

Utter quiet.

Careful not to draw blood with her sharp incisors, Hiyori bit her lip in a rare moment of indecision. Then… "Yeah, actually." She stopped stacking boxes on shelves and stared up at Urahara, who blinked inscrutably downwards. He reminded Hiyori a little too much of Urahara-taicho of the old days in that moment; her palm itched in a suppressed urge to strike him as she had the last time they met.

"How do you…" Hiyori scowled at herself, throat constricting, and she forced it open in anger. What sort of wimp was she, that she couldn't even say a straight sentence without stopping in-between words. "How do you live like this?" she burst out in frustration.

"Hiyori-san…"

"How? How do you handle it, knowing you can't ever go home?" Hiyori settled for glaring at Urahara's feet as though they were responsible for all of her troubles, brown eyes narrowed bitterly. She didn't feel comfortable talking about this with the other Vizard, not even Shinji or Lisa, the former of whom she was closest to and the latter Hiyori normally trusted to be fair and impartial in most things.

But Urahara had been her captain once; Hiyori had never thought she would call anyone but Hikifune-taicho captain, but, as much as Hiyori hated to admit it, she eventually bestowed the title on him as well. The captain of a division was expected to give advice to their subordinates. Hiyori, who was generally resentful of any and all authority figures sans Hikifune-taicho, was feeling contrary enough at the moment to take advantage of the unspoken promise a captain gave to all of their subordinates: to provide a listening ear.

A slow, faintly sympathetic smile broke over Urahara's pale face; as much as Hiyori resented the sympathy of others, she felt a little grateful to see it now. "You just do, Hiyori-san. You just do."

She drew in a sharp gasp of breath. "What sort of damn stupid answer is that?" Hiyori exclaimed.

Urahara's pale gray eyes didn't light on her face, shielded as they were by his brimmed hat. "The only one," he drawled slowly, "that I can give you."

Hiyori gaped up at him, taken aback by that, and the sudden, brief surge of bitterness in Urahara's voice. Then, she went back to sitting on a crate and swinging her legs back and forth.

It wasn't like Urahara ever objected to her presence, after all.