An Arcanist in Karakura Town 13 (Patreon)

An Arcanist in Karakura Town
Chapter 13

-VB-

This would be just as much in favor as it was in the favor of Urahara’s camp. Just as I would compare myself to what would be considered top one percentile of shinigami prowess, Urahara would be measuring me.

While I didn’t want to needlessly antagonize him and his crew, I did want to keep as much of my secrets as secrets. To that end, I decided to pull my punches when fighting Ichigo.

After all, even if I lost, I would know more than enough to start a baseline tactical foundation when it came to countering the shinigami.

Was it scummy? Yeah. I mean, the point of “training” with Ichigo would be to make sure that he could improve and win against the shinigami once the time came for him to invade Soul Society.

On the other hand, I didn’t care about Ichigo. I really didn’t. Orihime had a crush on him before. So what? Was I really going to get jealous over a crush like some insecure fucker? No! It’s a waste of time and energy.

No, I wouldn’t do that.

No…

Nope.

Nuh uh.

“... I might give him a black eye. Just a black eye.”

No, I was not jealous.

-VB-

“You mean you want me to just approach him and … what, fight?”

“Yes~!”

“Fuck off. I’m going back.”

“Wait, wait, wait-!” Urahara jumped at me and grabbed the edges of my lesser wizard robe.

What? I had to play it up. I was a wizard.

“Kurosaki-san isn’t exactly the kind of person who would show up for a spar!”

“Why the fuck not? Did you even ask?”

Silence.

“So you wasted my time. Again.”

“Look, I don’t want to waste your time! I just got you to come here!” he quickly replied. “How about you try yourself against someone else?”

I frowned.

“Who?”

“Why, my honey, of course!”

“Who-?” I asked confusedly before one of the side paper slide doors slammed open, and a black blur came speeding in. There was a crack, and Urahra flew away from me, tumbling on the ground before coming to a stop at the front of his own shop. What replaced him was a dark skinned beauty who I was only passingly familiar with.

Shihoin Yoruichi.

“Who the hell are you calling your honey in public?!” she shouted angrily.

“Only you~!”

Yoruichi stalked up to the genius and stomped on his chest, making Urahara grunt in pain. She grinded her heel on his sternum while veins popped up angrily on her temple.

“Oh, literally the day after -!” she spat out before she reigned her next words in. “You’re in trouble, mister. You don’t toss me around like a model for sale…!”

I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. From what I knew, Kisuke and Yoruichi were childhood friends, and there wasn’t anything in the manga that hinted to any romantic relationship between the two.

But here were the two of them now, exchanging words clearly meant for endearment and the other letting it happen.

Yes, she said he was in trouble, but she wasn’t stopping him either.

I was, however, keenly aware of the fact that this could all be a play to drag me into their spat with Aizen. I could see it like this: play up the couple thing between them to make a connection between myself and them, kind of like how couples tend to hang out with other couples, and that Kisuke was using this as a method of “connecting” with me, or at the very least, trying to make me feel less hostile towards him than I currently was.

Was I being paranoid? With Kisuke, you could never be sure.

“Who do you want me to fight anyways if you didn’t bring me here to spar with the prickly strawberry?”

Yoruichi choked out a laugh at the nickname. She turned to me, and looked up and down my figure. “You look like one of those crazy cultists.”

I scowled. “Well, I’m sorry I don’t act like a spineless Japanese.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Whatever floats your boat, yankee,” she scoffed.

My cheeks twitched at the slur. Two can play that game… but I wasn’t too fond of irritating someone who I knew was beyond my level.

“What do you do anyways?” she asked me, but it was Kisuke who answered.

“He’s a mortal kido specialist!”

“Ho?”

And she had that cat-got-the-canary look to her. I got her interest.

Why the fuck would be interested in me?

And it was strictly a “predator to prey” kind of interest.

“Yo, Kisuke. I wanna have a go at him.”

“Huh?” the shopkeeper looked dumbfounded for once. Something not going to your plan, hat-and-clogs? Well, I don’t like the way this is going, either. Get me out! “Wait, wait, Yorui-”

“Come on,” the dark skinned amazonian flashstepped to my back, grabbed a handful of my robe by the neck, and then flashstepped away.

“OH FUCK!” I shouted as I tumbled down the air. Instantly, my enchanted belt underneath the robe lit up as soon as it detected my panic and sudden increase in velocity. Without my verbal command, the spell, “Feather Fall” enchanted to the belt lit up, burning away one of the many feathers and downs in its pouches, and slowed me down.

Yoruichi, who was already on the ground, looked up at me with curiosity written all over her eyes. Then she smirked.

I did not like that smirk. I do not consent to the incoming assbeating!

Just as I landed, I heard a creak of a hinge in need of oiling in the sky above. And instead of the sky, I saw a literal square hole in the “skybox.”

I realized two things.

One, Urahara did not mean for me to be taken hostage by Yoruichi.

Two, this was the training ground Urahara uses for a variety of purposes, one of which included Ichigo’s Hollowfication.

Conclusion: Yoruichi wanted to see what I was made of.

I saw Urahara’s head peek into the underground training room. “Marris-san, watch out!”

I turned around towards Yoruichi, only to see a clenched fist coming dangerously close and fast for my face.

As I took the punch to my eye, I realized that even though I came here expecting to give Ichigo a black eye, I forgot to think about whether or not I would leave with one.