Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, any part of Bleach, or its characters. I also do not make any money off of this ficlet.

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Crimson by thatreevesgirl

(Benihime is Urahara’s zanpakuto if you didn’t know.)

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Kisuke Urahara didn’t call his Benihime out on many occasions, and never without good reason. She was a powerful and proud zanpakuto; that, and she didn’t put up with Urahara’s crap. Her hair draped over her shoulders in long, cascading wisps of tiny, crimson braids. It reached her waist and whipped around her body as she moved. Her pale skin was remarkable, and her heaving breasts were barely covered by the strips of red, satin ribbon that criss-crossed her body in the shape of clothes. In parts the ribbon had unraveled and fluttered behind her. She was a graceful and beautiful creature. Human in appearance, but power emanated from her and made her seem more ethereal.

Benihime grimaced when she saw her partner Kisuke Urahara. He was drunk and slumped in the corner of his shop, stroking her sheath provocatively like he wanted something from her.

“You fool, you called me out for no good reason,” she hissed. Her voice was sultry and dark. It hinted of pain and pleasure, but mostly of annoyance thanks to Urahara.

“My Benihime, my beautiful, beautiful, Benihime,” the older blond man mumbled drunkly. “Ban…kai,” he whispered again, then chuckled amusedly at his own joke. “And I brought you out for a very good reason.”

She crouched near him and scowled, “And that would be?”

“I think we are a bit rusty, dear. You and I can’t sync the way we used to.” The way Urahara stressed “sync” made one of Benihime’s thin, red eyebrows raise in a high arch above her eye. She knew how incredulous this man could be, but she had never been treated with such disrespect by him before.

She snorted haughtily and rose to her full height, glowering down and the man below her. “I’m leaving, Urahara. There is no need for what you are asking.”

Three sheets to the wind, his mind on only one thing—this otherworldly woman who resided inside of him and was the source of his strength—Urahara grasped for her and found purchase on Benihime’s bare leg. He ran his fingers up her calf and then further up until he was softly stroking her thigh.

“Benihime, you have served me so well over the years, can’t you help me out tonight too?” Kisuke whispered. “I’m lonely, and you are so very beautiful.”

Her hand found purchase on his and pulled it off her leg. Lowering herself to his level once more, and staring at him with eyes the shade of ice, flecks of red hidden in her white-blue irises, she told him a decisive, “No.”

“Benihime…” he whined. He wanted her so badly. She ran around in his mind, talked to him, protected him, consoled him, was him in a way; so it was impossible to accept that she didn’t want this at all.

She blinked slowly, as if she were considering carefully what he was proposing to her. They were partners, and there wasn’t a part of this man Benihime didn’t know intimately. Leaning in and kissing him on the forehead, Benihime imparted two promising words to him and dissolved back into her unreleased state.

Urahara held his zanpakuto in his hand, sighing as he re-sheathed her and made his way to his bedroom, her voice still ringing in his ears.

“Not tonight,” she had told him. But because she was a part of him, he knew for certain that “not tonight” did not mean “not ever.”

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A/N’s: I was trying to write a bleach meme request, but it didn’t turn out like the requester wanted. Therefore, I just turned it into a one-shot/ficlet for general viewing pleasure. This is my take on Benihime, who is Kisuke Urahara’s sword. Yes, she is female for those of you who didn’t know. Wikipedia tells me that Benihime means “Crimson Princess” (thatreevesgirl is NOT good with the Japanese translation), so I based my ideas off of that.

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