Fairy Tail: Shinigami

Chapter 248: We Have a Deal.

If you wanna read ahead go to /cornbringer

Right now I'm on chapter 225 in Patreôn

Discord Server: Invite needs to be updated. Will get on that today.

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[Third Person. POV.]

The sun hung low in the sky, painting everything in hues of gold and crimson. Urahara approached the Visoreds' hideout once more, his cane tapping rhythmically against the ground. He could feel the strong spiritual pressures emanating from within, showing they were aware he was outside.

The door slid open with a creak, revealing Shinji, with the rest of the Visoreds in tow. "Took you long enough, Kisuke."

Urahara chuckled. "Well, you did say in the morning, but never specified what time in the morning, so I had a broad frame to work with. So, have you all come to a decision?"

Shinji glanced back at his companions, all nodding in unison. "We have. We'll help, but not without our conditions."

Urahara adjusted his hat, he had expected this, after all. "I'm listening."

"Firstly, we want a complete pardon. All past animosities, all accusations, everything wiped clean. We don't step back into the fray just to be backstabbed again."

Urahara nodded slowly. "That can be arranged. Anything else?"

Lisa stepped forward. "Recognition. We've been treated as outcasts for too long. If we're to aid in this fight, the Gotei 13 and the Soul Society need to recognize our existence and legitimacy, as well as their mistake in their judgment."

Mashiro jumped in, her voice quivering with emotion. "And we won't be under anyone during this fight. We're allies, not subordinates, or expendable assets."

Urahara took a deep breath. He had anticipated most of their demand. "I expected as much. And I believe, with Captain Yamamoto's current stance and Adam's influence, these terms can be negotiated."

Shinji squinted, trying to read Urahara's ever-mysterious expression. "You better not be playing games with us, Kisuke."

Urahara raised his hands defensively. "Honesty was always my policy, Hirako. Well, most of the time, but this time it is."

Love interjected, crossing his arms. "If we're to trust you and march into battle alongside the Gotei 13, you better make sure these terms are ironclad."

"I'll see to it personally," Urahara assured, with a short nod.

Kensei grumbled, "And once this is all done, we go our separate ways. No strings attached."

Urahara smiled. "Of course. As allies, we respect your autonomy."

Shinji extended a hand, sealing the agreement with a grin that promised retribution for the one that ruined their lives. "Alright then, Kisuke. Let's bring down Aizen."

Urahara shook Shinji's hand firmly, a promise made between two old acquaintances. "Together, I believe we will, old friends."

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[Third Person. POV.]

The quiet hum of conversations filled the corridors of the Gotei 13. Urahara walked with a composed gait, the shadows from the hallway lights dancing around him, painting his path with an ethereal touch. The air was thick with anticipation; every step towards Captain Yamamoto's office felt weighted with the enormity of the alliance that had just been forged.

Adam, in his newly donned white haori, was discussing some tactical aspects with a few seated officers when Urahara entered the precincts of the First Division. His aura commanded respect and annoyance, an influence that wasn't built upon the foundation of his former rank but his undeniable genius and spirit.

Urahara's presence drew Adam's attention. They exchanged nods, a silent acknowledgment of how things had gone for him.

As Urahara approached, Captain Yamamoto was going through some scrolls, his eyes reflecting the flames from the hearth nearby, pushing the papers aside. He looked up as Urahara entered, his gaze piercing through the man.

"Urahara Kisuke," Yamamoto addressed in a tone both stern and questioning.

Urahara bowed slightly, maintaining eye contact. "Captain-Commander," he began. "I've spoken with the Visoreds."

Adam folded his arms, his eyes sharp and attentive. This alliance, if secured, could shift the tides of the impending war. Every piece of the puzzle was crucial.

The more help they managed to gather, the easier this ordeal would be.

"And?" Yamamoto's voice was a mix of anticipation and skepticism. Old wounds, especially those marred by betrayal and conflict, were not easy to heal, now who would admit who betrayed who, that was another matter altogether.

"They've agreed to help," Urahara relayed, a smile on his face. "But they have terms."

Yamamoto's gaze hardened.

Adam, reading the silent signals of the old Captain-Commander, who was at the verge or raging, intervened. "And these terms are?"

"A complete pardon," Urahara stated. "All past animosities, accusations, everything wiped clean. If they return, they wish to do so not as outcasts but as allies."

Adam observed Yamamoto closely. The old man's face was a canvas of complex emotions. He was angry, more than not, he expected others to simply obey, even if said others were supposed traitors.

Not that they were.

The only thing they could be accused of, is abandoning their posts, and even that was because they were pushed out of their posts, despite being innocent.

Something that would take Yamamoto some time to admit out loud.

"They also demand recognition," Urahara continued. "They won't be under anyone. Allies, not subordinates. And post-Aizen, they wish to retain their freedom, no strings attached."

The room went silent. The crackling flames in the hearth were the only audible sounds, their fiery dance casting fluctuating shadows that seemed to mimic the oscillation of thoughts within Yamamoto's mind.

"Considering how they were treated, I say this is a pretty good deal for you old man," Adam broke the silence, his voice steady. "If I were them, I would say fuck you, no offense."

Yamamoto's gaze hardened as it shifted to Adam.

Adam continued. "Aizen played you all. Damaging every thread under your command, right now, your redemption from that shit lies not in forgetting the past but confronting it."

A silence befell the room again, a moment of reflection.

Eventually, Yamamoto, his gaze still locked on Adam, then turned to Urahara. "Very well, tell them that as long as they fulfill their part, I will meet their demands."

Urahara nodded. "Okidoki."

"If you excuse me, old man, I have something to talk about with Urahara," Adam said, walking towards Urahara.

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[Adam C. POV.]

With swift strides, I intercepted Urahara as he left the old man's office. "Urahara."

He halted, his eyes hidden beneath the shadow of his hat, offering no insight into the storm of thoughts that surely whirled within.

"I will be brief. We can't afford to delay our attack any further, Kisuke. Every moment we waste is a moment Aizen utilizes to entrench himself deeper," I stated, the cold, unyielding truth hanging heavily between us. For all we knew, we were giving him time to reach fucking godhood with the reality marble.

Urahara tilted his head, his gaze locked onto mine. "I understand the urgency, Adam. That's exactly why I recruited the Visored, that being said, do you think everyone is ready to move now?"

I clenched my fists, the white haori flapping against the silent increase of my reiatsu. "We will never be entirely ready for Aizen, and you know it better than anyone, Urahara. But I'll be damned if I let that snake slither further into his den, because if I do, going home becomes an impossibility. We need to strike, and strike now."

"I suppose you want me to summon the visored, right?" Urahara queried.

"Yes," Adam replied.

There was a silent acknowledgement in Urahara's gaze. As Adam had said, he, of all people, understood the chessboard Aizen played upon. A board where pawns and kings were but pieces, their wills subjugated to the whims behind his grand design.

And he was right. The more they waited to strike, the more time Aizen would have to plan, making his defeat harder and harder.

"I'll get them ready," Urahara replied after a moment of loaded silence. "I should be back here with them tomorrow."

I nodded, watching Urahara go.

A storm was coming, and amidst its furious winds, the precipice of war roared for everyone to hear.