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"Running away again?"

Kisuke's fingers flex involuntarily against the frame, but he otherwise remains still, his back turned to her. He seems to be hovering on the precipice of a decision, his shoulders stiff with tension, his body already half way out the window. After what feels like an eternity, he looks at her over his shoulder, then turns fully, taking a seat on the windowsill. "I guess that's… fair."

Truer words…

When it becomes clear that she won't be making this any easier for him, he speaks again. "I only…" He sighs. "The path you walk is hard enough without any added… complications. I didn't want to be an obstacle to this, to your future."

It is a tired old argument, an easy excuse, but one she cannot entirely fault him for. His constant presence in her life has been the cause for many a raised eyebrow, long before such a thing was even warranted. Her family has sought to put an end to their friendship in the past, and in that endeavor they once very nearly succeeded.

His fear is not an irrational one. And neither is hers. Ever since she had come to realize how she felt about him, the one thing that held her back from acting, other than fear on no reciprocation, were the consequences of what being found out would mean for him. Her future wasn't the only one at stake here; her clan had the power to end his at a moment's notice.

"You've worked too hard for too long to risk it all for…" Kisuke goes on, hands gesturing vaguely at himself. He lets his words trail off and for a second he breaks eye contact, as though steeling himself to say something unpleasant. When he meets her gaze again, a sad smile strains his lips. "Some people are simply not worth the risk."

"Don't you think that's up to me to decide?"

"Of course, but—"

"But… what?" she says, her impatience with his self loathing spiel reaching a critical point. "Whatever happened to having everything?"

"Everything you deserve," Kisuke says, his eyes filling in the words he left unspoken.

Yoruichi doesn't know exactly who, or when, but what she does know is that someone made him feel inadequate, once. And he's never stopped believing it since. She has no doubt whatsoever her family had an added hand in reinforcing that ridiculous fallacy. From then on, he built his entire life, his entire self around the conviction that he was broken, somehow, unworthy, putting up walls to keep people from seeing the truth.

He's even done it to her more times than she can count.

Shaking her head, she begins to close the distance between them. "You are still so ridiculously afraid I will one day see something that will scare me away."

He offers no defense for this, looking at her as though her suggestion is not only a possibility, but a certainty.

"And it pisses me off, because I deserve better than this," she says, coming to a stop before him. "After one hundred and forty years, I deserve to be trusted enough to not get spooked and run the other way."

This time, he does protest, his eyes blown wide and suddenly fearful. "I do trust you; please, don't ever say—"

She cuts him off by slamming her hand against his mouth, lowering herself until their eyes are level. "I'm not done."

He visibly recoils when she looms over him, his back flat against the frame, and when she shuts his mouth, his eyes follow the movement then flit back up to her. He makes no move to remove her hand, or anything other than stare at her in shock.

"I know exactly who you are," Yoruichi says. "I've known since we were children. And all those parts you're too afraid to show are not something I tolerate because I like the rest of you. Get that through your head, already."

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