Hollow Hunters- Part Seventeen

She shrugged a shoulder subtly in a vain attempt to ease a little of the discomfort the harness currently holding her wings tightly to her back. Before the limbs had burst from between her shoulder blades, and her eyes had bled until their current coloring settled, she'd been sent on an undercover assignment which required she wear a corset in order to fit in with the rest of the women at the assigned event. That was the only thing she could think of which compared at all with the discomfort of the straps crossing the folded limbs against her back, and buckled tight over her chest and stomach under the black t-shirt and faded denim jacket she wore with jeans.

Kisuke had come up with not only that terribly uncomfortable harness to keep her wings out of the way more  easily, but also some sort of strange sort of holographic device currently strapped to a wrist which temporarily disguised her eyes, hair and teeth. There was a time limit of three hours before the power died on it, but while it was functioning, it was startlingly effective. The man was a genius, without a doubt.

So, instead of seeing a straight laced teenage boy in khakis, button down shirt and jacket walking with a blonde man in his 30s sporting a deep green t-shirt which stretched across his muscular chest with attendant jeans and something out of a nightmare in an altered jacket and bondage gear, people would see the aforementioned men and an ordinary Japanese teenage girl comfortable in denim, out for an evening on the town.

Their current outing was actually something slightly similar to the event that harness reminded Meg of. They were heading for the entertainment district to see if they could spot anyone doing rounds there, as well as to watch for any more Hollow activity.

Ishida glanced down at her upon the movement of her arm, as if sensing her unease. Meg gave the dark haired teen a reassuring grin in answer to his questioning glance. It was nothing. His lips turned up subtly in an answering smile, and navy eyes turned forward again.

When they'd first tried the contraption out, she'd had a hard time stopping herself from staring at her reflection. It had been years since she'd looked so normal. The illusion was not at all how she used to look, but that didn't change the fact that now she could blend into any crowd she wanted to. If not for the discomfort of the harness, she would have sworn she'd gone through another series mutations and somehow came out human in the end.

It had taken the others a little while to get used to as well. Ichigo and Renji had both actually poked at her wings to reassure themselves they were still there until she swatted their hands away. Uryu, on the other hand, had stared just as hard as she had, then cleared his throat lightly and looked away at the blush he brought to her cheeks.

Irrationally, she wondered if he preferred her appearance as she was under the influence of Kisuke's invention, or as she was naturally.

Why was she even thinking like that, at all? They had to look out for operatives. There could be arrancar lurking nearby. This was the worst of times for such frivolous thought.

Anyway, she was still new to even the simplest of friendships. The only things she knew about romance was the seduction side of the equation, and that her knowledge was far from typical. Unexpected emotion was forced back with determination.

She glanced around at the suddenly thick crowd as they entered the plaza. Babble comprised of mostly Japanese filled the air, but it was tinted with other languages. The girl caught wisps of English, Spanish, a little Russian and German – even an Arabic phrase or two. The people themselves were just as colorful as the languages. Here a group of teenagers cavorted with each other, each member of the little tribe decked out in bright clothing which screamed 'TRENDY' as loudly as possible. There a family of tourists sporting phrase dictionaries and bags for souvenirs begged an unfortunate bystander for directions to a shop clear on the other side of town. From the looks of things, the only things being successfully exchanged between parties was confusion. Just around the corner a small family gathered together, clad in traditional kimonos, fresh from a wedding and taking the rare opportunity to enjoy a night out with each other.

Instinctively, she stepped a little closer to Ishida, but was careful to keep her demeanor relaxed and easy going. The young woman hated crowds. She always had, and likely always will, but she did know how to handle herself in them.

Unobtrusively, the Quincy at her side squeezed her hand reassuringly – a gesture which she returned gratefully before they again separated. He was starting to pick up on her emotions with startling ease.

Oddly enough, she had the feeling she was starting to do the same with his. Concern rolled off of him more often than not, and she was constantly impressed with how impassive he kept his expression. His analytical, sharp mind was also a source of awe to her. At other times, restrained compassion pulled at his self-imposed bonds, or sorrow so much like her own drifted from the rich depths of his eyes.

Uryu was easily one of the most complicated people she had ever met. That complexity tugged at her just as much as the infinite emotion which so often roiled just under the thick walls he'd so painstakingly built over the years.

Almond eyes glanced up at Urahara when he paused, bringing the other two to a halt by default. His grey gaze was contemplating a trio of women chattering away at each other in English by a shop easily within earshot.

Two blondes and a brunette were dividing their attention between the handsome dirty blonde at her side and the display window. Clearly, the traditional apothecary was a poor cover for their blatant interest in Urahara. Not only did they spend most of their time glancing over and giggling, Meg found herself doubting that they were the types who would take much interest in the dried herbs and even less in the small, shriveled animals on display.

From their accents, she knew they were American – likely from somewhere on the west coast. There was nothing suspicious about them, honestly. They held themselves like typical tourists, and she was willing to bet the worst weapon in their personal arsenals was probably mace.

She just barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

On second thought, judging from the way their perfectly manicured hands fluttered as they talked and the way they let their purses hang so loosely, they would probably have no idea how to handle a fight outside of smacking ineffectively or screaming in their shrillest voices. Not even the best operative could fake the vibe they gave off quite so well.

Kisuke did; however, appear to be returning their interest, although she knew he was still keeping careful tabs on their surroundings. This supposedly harmless shopkeeper always watched the world around him carefully, regardless of how unfocussed he may seem at first glance.

However, she'd seen same the look in his eye in that of many other men, so she knew exactly what was on his mind. The girl immediately forgot all about the impending cramps threatening the muscles along her back, and the soreness in the joints of her invisible wings.

Oh, this could be fun.

She felt Ishida's eyes on her, and she shot him an exceedingly mischievous grin before pressing a finger to her lips in a request for his silence. Before anyone else could notice the wickedness in her masked eyes, she carefully returned her expression to that of innocent observation. He arched a brow, but shrugged and feigned interest in a group of businessmen conferring over a bench to their left.

"Meg?"

The young woman in question glanced up at Urahara's voice and tucked her hands in the jacket's pockets. Luckily enough, she'd diverted her attention from Uryu just in time for Kisuke to look down at her, "Yes?"

"Those girls," he nodded towards the group still tittering away, and spoke slowly enough for her to translate as he went. "They could have ah…information. Perhaps I can gain it over dinner?"

She was careful to keep her expression harmlessly attentive, although both she and the young man on her other side knew BS when they heard it.

"How would I ask in English?" The older man finally asked with a quirk of his lips.

The young woman nodded, after taking a moment to interpret and started in broken Japanese, "Ah. Well, you say," and she switched into carefully enunciated English, " 'Excuse me, miss, I saw your horse's face from across the way. Would you like a feedbag?'" She then returned to Japanese, "and then…they accept."

Horses were graceful creatures, after all. Quite lovely, really. What woman wouldn't want to be called graceful and lovely? She had only the purest of motives. Honest.

She nodded just as encouragingly at his repetition as he had when he'd pulled the laxative tea prank on her.

It was all she could do not to drop the sweet façade when she felt subtle waves of carefully restrained amusement from the Quincy. He studiously watched a gaggle of tourists stumble by – effectively blocking her and Kisuke's view of his face.

Urahara shot her one of his most charming grins, and then ventured over to the small group.

"Meg," Uryu finally turned, and leaned close to whisper the English words in her ear, his breath warm against the skin there, "that was very mean." Despite his whispered words, however, a small, amused grin twisted his lips.

The young woman smothered a laugh when the sound of an indignant exclamation followed quickly by a sharp slap made its way to their ears. She heard Ishida do much the same.

Ah, revenge was sweet.

They both watched as Kisuke stood there for a few moments in stunned silence after the trio had flounced off huffily. He stared after them before turning and rubbing his pinkened cheek. Deliciously puzzled look on his face, he made his way back to the two. This time, it was Uryu he addressed in Japanese. While she didn't quite catch all of the words, she knew exactly what he was asking the teen. It was just what she'd asked Captain Ukitake after the tea incident. "What did I just say?"

When Uryu dryly enlightened him, Urahara shot her an unreadable look, before he laughed and wagged a finger at her. "Karma, 'eh?"

She grinned slowly and nodded. "Very much."

He slung a friendly arm over her shoulders, and led the two further into the plaza. "You know," he again spoke slowly for her, "I am training you into the ground, when we get back." While his tone was light with good nature, she knew she was in for a world of pain.

That wicked grin remained firmly in place, however, as she kept the easy pace with him. "It was worth it."