Yoruichi wasn't like Urahara. She was direct and impulsive, jumping into whatever she needed to do. That was probably why she saved Urahara and ran away with him. A man as apathetic as he would've never survived on his own, she often thought to herself. But she knew it was an excuse. She knew it was his eyes that made her own glimmer, his eyes that made her whole.

She remembered wondering how his eyes could be so pale and piercing when she first met him. Back then, as a boy, his eyes had been much lighter, but over the years, they'd become a deep rich blue-green that changed with the light. God how she loved the way his eyes were always so calming. She'd never seen them get truly angry. Come to think of it, she'd never witnessed Urahara when he was unable to muster a lazy grin at her. She had a feeling she never wanted to see his rage, not with what Benihime's anger on its own could do.

Now, perched atop his roof, watching the stars with him, she began to feel a growing sense of unease. She should have felt safe with his arm around her, the warmth of his cloak against her cheek, but for some unknown reason, she'd felt on edge ever since she returned. She thought it might've been a her prolonged contact with the hollows that muddled her reiatsu, but this trembling darkness that twisted her guts couldn't be without reason. "Kisuke, do you feel that?" she asked softly, shivering as she felt it again. Was she too sensitive to hollow energy now?

"Feel what?" His easy voice floated through the crisp air.

"I don't know… it feels like a giant group of hollows are coming." Just as she worded that, her golden eyes shot open. She must've been too sick the past few days to think straight. The hollows had been planning an attack on several towns nearby, including Karakura. Soul Society had been warned and were sending a group of reapers the next day, but it seemed her predictions had been one day off. "Kisuke, they're coming. The hollows," she said quickly, getting to her feet. The panic in her voice was unmistakable. Urahara looked up at her, concern in his eyes. "You sure?"

"Yes. Go get Isshin and Ichigo and tell one of them to alert Soul Society to get a few more reapers. The hollows won't be your average little monster. I'll go see what's going on."

"Yoruichi, wait. Your reiatsu's too weak—"

"Kisuke, really? I've been doing this for the past few months." With that, she leapt off the roof toward the emanating darkness, his green cloak whipped off her shoulders.

Urahara was right. She hadn't recovered yet and she could feel it in the way her breaths came ragged and fast within a few strikes. And she was using her zanpakuto. Where were they? She felt as if she'd been fighting for well over an hour. The hollows were huge, each one towering over the city and every one popping out of a chasm in the sky the minute she killed the one before.

A giant black clawed hand swooped down toward her and her body, trembling in exhaustion, shunpoed to slowly and she watched it carve into her leg as she was thrown into an empty office building, hearing the harsh crack of a rib. She lay dazed for a moment, struggling to catch her breath. At least the snow on the ground had softened her fall, but it was now making her cold. She coughed and felt a thick splatter of hot blood, slide down her chin. She couldn't remember ever being so weak before.

The next thing she knew, there was someone roughly shaking her shoulder and it hurt so much she groaned and opened her eyes to tell that person to stop. But her voice caught in her throat when she was met with icy blue framed by pale blond. "K.. Kisuke?" she managed.

"Shit, Yoruichi. I told you not to overexert yourself." His eyes softened a bit. She shivered from a combination of the cold and the rage his eyes emitted. She noticed that he was performing kido on her midsection, and felt the pain from her lungs recede. Then he wrapped his cloak on the bleeding wound that was her thigh and cradled her in his arms as he shunpoed away.

"The hollows," she whispered, gripping a handful of his shirt in her fist.

"Ichigo and Isshin have it under control."

She looked at him strangely, her golden eyes questioning cold blue. His grip on her was gentle, but felt forcefully controlled. There was a jump in his jaw and a set to his face that was foreign to her, Yoruichi, who thought she knew every inch of his being. He was as fast as always, maybe even faster, and the next she knew, she was dizzy and trembling, but they were in his bedroom. She coughed again, rough and violent, her body shaking. Blood slid down her chin again.

Urahara let out a string of curses, coated heavily with frustration. He was on the other side of the room, gathering what limited medical supplies he had.

"Kisuke," she muttered hoarsely.

"Just shut the hell up for once," he growled. She fell into a silence, obedient and frightened at his rage. He returned quickly and started bandaging her leg and inspecting her torso for injuries, bright green kido glimmering at his fingertips.

"Are you angry… at me?" she asked him after what seemed like an eternity. He didn't respond.

"I'm in pain here and you're gonna give me…" she stopped, coughing for a second, "that face?"

"You little fool." And she saw the vague motion of his lips into a smile, before it vanished again.