"Hirako, if you want to see Kurosaki Ichigo, why don't you just go to him?" Lisa said without lifting her eyes, calmly flipping a page in the inappropriate book she was reading. "He should still be shaken from the Hollow incident."
"I know that," Hirako Shinji muttered, staring at the pathetic pile of bills in his hands. "But showing up out of nowhere will freak him out. I need a proper approach. A little trust-building. A little subtlety."
Lisa raised one eyebrow. "And that requires money?"
Hirako slumped. "Enrollment at Karakura First High School isn't cheap… and this"—he shook the bundle—"is barely twenty thousand yen. Not even a third of the tuition."
Lisa returned to her book, cheeks flushing faintly at something she read. "Not my problem. Figure it out yourself."
Hirako let out a long breath. "Then I guess there's only one option left. I'll have to go beg that guy Urahara again. Hiyori, want to come?"
Hiyori crossed her arms, glanced away, and snorted. "You think I'm going to see that blasted hat-and-clogs clown? Go alone."
"Ah come on, Hiyori," Hirako laughed awkwardly. "Urahara has helped us so much already. No need to act so cold."
He looked around the room, hopeful. "Anyone else want to come with me?"
Hachigen raised a hand politely. "Please greet Yoruichi-sama and Tessai-sama for me."
The others barely looked up. Within seconds they were back to their tasks, training, reading, bickering, or fixing what could hardly be called living quarters.
Hirako sighed. "Fine, fine. I get it." With a single Shunpo, he vanished from the abandoned warehouse.
---
At the Urahara Shop, Shiraha sat opposite Kisuke with Yoruichi nestled in his lap. Tessai poured tea quietly, while Jinta chased Ururu around the yard in their usual lopsided play fight.
Four days had passed since Ichigo's Hollow surfaced. Since then, Ichigo and his friends visited only after school, training until dusk. Though the Hollow had not resurfaced since Shiraha struck it down, something unsettling lingered around Ichigo.
His reiatsu fluctuated wildly. At times, it spiked above even its Bankai level. At others, it dropped so low that even a weak Hollow could overwhelm him.
"Mr. Urahara," Shiraha said, sipping his tea, "things are unfolding differently from what you predicted. The Masked Legion hasn't approached Ichigo at all."
Kisuke's head tilted. "It is strange. Ichigo's Hollow spiked days ago. Tessai didn't put up the barrier, so there's no doubt the Visoreds sensed it. They should have approached him immediately, or at the very least come here for information."
Shiraha glanced at the sky. "In two hours, my sign-in task will finish."
Nearly seven days had passed since his arrival. Only two more hours remained before the Karakura High check-in was complete—and the Dior template would advance to fifty percent.
Before Kisuke could respond, a familiar voice echoed across the yard.
"Good morning, Mr. Urahara. Good morning, Miss Yoruichi."
Hirako Shinji strolled in casually, waving. Then he froze dramatically. "Ah, Shiraha-kun is here too?"
Shiraha stroked Yoruichi's head, smiling. "Temporarily staying here with Mr. Urahara."
He wasn't fooled. Hirako had sensed his reiatsu days ago. There was no way he didn't know Shiraha was here.
Jinta and Ururu glanced up briefly before returning to play. They recognized Hirako from previous visits. He caused no trouble—at least not the dangerous kind.
"Shinji," Urahara greeted pleasantly, "did you come to inquire about Mr. Kurosaki?"
"Kisuke, don't be so formal," Shinji said as he settled on the futon. "Just call me Shinji. We're friends, aren't we?"
Urahara frowned. "Shinji, if you're here to ask something, ask. As long as it isn't borrowing money."
Shinji's smile turned strained. "Kisuke, we've known each other for ages. It's embarrassing if you get so defensive."
Every time Shinji addressed him sweetly, the request was always the same: money.
"Well…" Shinji rubbed his hands together. "I want to transfer to Ichigo's school, but I'm a little short. Just lend me a bit for the enrollment."
"No," Urahara replied immediately.
Shinji's smile collapsed. "Hey now. That was too fast."
"Return what you borrowed last time and I'll lend again," Kisuke said cheerfully.
Shinji choked. "We can… talk about that later."
He turned his face away in shame. At this point, even he didn't know how much he owed Kisuke. Several million yen wouldn't be surprising.
After a moment, Shinji perked up. He looked at Shiraha, eyes gleaming. "Shiraha-kun, can you lend me some money? Just a little. I'll pay you back."
He remembered clearly—Shiraha was a member of the Kuchiki clan, one of the Four Noble Houses. To a noble, money was nothing. To Shinji, it might as well have been salvation.
Shinji leaned forward, hands pressed together in a pleading gesture.
"Please. Help a fellow exile out."
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