Sora may be scared of Yamamoto (116)

POV Change to Real Sora

Yes... it was a clone. The one Ichigo was probably strangling right now was just a clone. The real Sora, on the other hand, was with Rukia, holding her close to his chest, her small frame curling up perfectly into him.

His arms were wrapped around her, and his fingers traced small circles on her back.

She muttered something about him taking responsibility for what he did.

How cute.

He only chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Of course I will. What kind of man do you take me for?"

He wasn't going to play with her feelings. Pranks were fine, casual teasing was part of who he was, but when it came to actually toying with someone's emotions, that was his line. He just couldn't do it.

To be more specific, he didn't want to do it. That was his boundary. Like sure, he made fun of Uryu all the time.

Didn't change the fact that Uryu was his bro, and he would level Soul Society in its entirety if he needed to find him.

Speaking of which, since a Quincy had approached him a while back, he knew that bum was alive and probably would send some female Quincy at him.

Well, time to give his brother a date.

He might ask Uryu what his type was and set him up from there. Or just choose the most outgoing girl.

Yeah, that would work.

As for himself, he was fine. He had Rukia, and from the looks of it...

She had melted.

Her walls? Crumbled.

This wasn't just a fleeting crush anymore.

She loved him.

And for the first time in a long time, Sora felt something he hadn't really considered before—happiness. Having someone truly love him? That felt... nice.

Their lips met again, slow and deep, only parting because annoyingly, they needed air. His golden eyes locked onto her violet ones, and in that moment, he knew—this was real.

Yeah... this was the life.

Later that day, Sora finally dragged himself out of the room, yawning and stretching like he had just had the best sleep of his damn life. Because, let's be honest—he did.

His silver hair was a little messy, but still immaculate because genetics were just that good. Cry about it.

He adjusted his coat lazily, prepared to do absolutely nothing productive today.

Because today was his cheat day.

And then he saw them.

Toshiro and Rangiku.

And they were in the middle of some serious Shinigami shit, using a weird floating screen to talk to—

Oh.

Oh no.

The moment Sora saw the Captain-Commander's face staring through that screen, he froze.

The PTSD kicked in. The memory of his clone getting his shit absolutely kicked in played in his mind over and over again.

Some might call him a pussy for this, but have you ever seen an old man hop 400 feet off the floor and dunk on you?

Have you ever been used as a basketball for a slam dunk?

Terrifying old man strength.

His brain short-circuited.

A split second later, he turned on autopilot.

—STAND UP STRAIGHT.

—HANDS BEHIND BACK.

—LOOK LIKE A MODEL CITIZEN.

Because, listen, Sora could handle a lot of things—Espada, Hollows, Quincy Purges, waking up and choosing violence— but Yamamoto?

Yamamoto was built different.

Ancient-man-radiates-death-different.

Sora immediately started backing away. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Shinigami business? Not his problem. He was a Quincy. He didn't need to—

"Sora Ishida."

...Damn it.

He slowly turned his head toward the screen. His usual smirk faltered just slightly. "Yes... sir?"

Sora died inside a little when he heard his name. He had hoped—no, prayed—that he wouldn't be noticed.

Nah, he would leave. He had honor. He would not just sit here and listen to this. He had his pride.

Yamamoto's gaze was as piercing as ever. "Stay."

"Yes, sir."

And just like that, his pride was gone. Fuck that.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Rangiku smirk. "Huh. So you do have fears."

"Absolutely," Sora deadpanned. "Old people with authority scare the hell out of me."

Yamamoto ignored his remark and continued. "This concerns you as well."

Sora blinked. "Huh?" He gestured vaguely at the screen. "How in the possible heck could this involve me? This is a Shinigami affair. I tend to stay away from those."

And also, he was trying to stay away from this buff old man. Out here looking like a bodybuilder at 2,000 years old.

Yamamoto remained unfazed. "Aizen plans to create an Ōken, and Karakura Town will be sacrificed in the process."

"...You're kidding."

Really? IT chose Karakura Town? Could IT stop being a bother to Sora? Such a dick.

The old man didn't need to say anything.

Sora let out an annoyed sigh, running a hand through his silver hair. The strands slicked back slightly, a lone strand of hair stubbornly sticking out while everything else stayed in place.

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Okay, but like—why does IT need to go to such ridiculous lengths to make this damn key? Like, come on. Why murder so many people? The dude already stopped me from taking Rukia that first time, and now—"

Silence.

Yamamoto's expression sharpened. "What?"

Sora realized his mistake.

Sora immediately backtracked. "Oh, uh... your excellent hearing must have failed you, old man. Must be the connection on that screen. Real shame, technology's a mess these days."

Yamamoto stared.

Sora nervously pulled at his collar.

The old man knew.

Rangiku stifled a laugh behind her sleeve.

Before Yamamoto could press further, Sora quickly changed the subject. "So, uh, about IT—he's trying to make a key to visit your king, right? The Soul King? Reo?"

Yamamoto's gaze lingered on him before nodding. "Correct."

Sora tilted his head as the Captain-Commander described how insanely powerful the Soul King was. "Okay, so let me get this straight. Your busted god-king is sitting up there doing nothing while IT is just... doing whatever the hell he wants?"

"Why do you keep calling Aizen 'IT'?" Rangiku suddenly asked.

"He deserves it," was Sora's reply.

"The Soul King does not interfere in our affairs."

Sora narrowed his eyes. He smelled bullshit. But instead of calling it out, he just shrugged.

"Alright. Cool. Sounds like an excuse, but whatever."

Yamamoto didn't react.

Sora rubbed his temples. "Okay, so—look, I actually came downstairs to get some water, and this whole meeting thing is right in front of the fridge." He gestured towards the large screen. "And I am really thirsty."

Yamamoto stared at him.

Sora stared back, looking hella nervous.

Shit was, in fact, not sweet.

A/N.Trust he is not scared