Characters: Soi Fong, Hiyori
: The meeting of the "We Hate Urahara" club will now come to order.
: slightly mentioned KisuYoru
: spoilers for Turn Back the Pendulum arc
: Turn Back the Pendulum arc
Author's Note
: I love imagining how they would interact if they were ever to meet.
: I don't own Bleach.

It's pure coincidence that they end up sitting next to each other in the bar, both staring moodily off into space and gulping down cups of sake at the sort of rate that gives everyone the impression that they're both old hands at this.

And the impression all the other patrons get is that they should give Soi Fong and Sarugaki Hiyori a wide berth. They're both notorious for their tempers, of course.

Eventually, Hiyori realizes that she's not alone, and mutters something for the benefit of Soi Fong's ears. "Some guys, huh?" They don't know each other, but Hiyori recognizes the sort of look the younger woman's wearing and can tell what's bothering her and making her turn to the siren song of drink.

Soi Fong nods moodily. "Some guys."

Leaning back in her chair, Hiyori lets out a humorless bark of laughter that sound more like a grunt of pain and shakes her head so her pigtails quake. "Don't you just hate it when they pretend they don't know when you're talking about?"

The Second Division Shinigami nods vigorously. "And when he pretends to be so innocent, so unassuming?" she asks with mingled scorn and disgust.

"When he just says "Yes, sure" over and over again—"

"—and you know he's lying about something, but you're not sure what—"

"—and then, he's got the nerve to tell you that you're just being paranoid, like you can't see that…"

Hiyori stops, and her widened eyes meet Soi Fong's.

Soi Fong's face has gone a peaked, slightly embarrassed shade of pink. "We're talking about the same person, aren't we?" she asks incredulously. She's fidgeting with her hands in her lap, plainly a nervous twitch—one she's been trying to rid herself of.

Hiyori's incisors show. "Urahara Kisuke?"

"That's the one."

Hiyori pinches the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes. "So what's the bastard done to you, eh?"

Soi Fong gulps down her sake before answering, rapping her hand on the countertop for some more. "He was the former Third Seat of my division. I'm one of Yoruichi-sama's bodyguards and no matter how I try I can not get her to see how utterly unreliable and unworthy of her friendship he is," she hashes it out, the line of her lips growing thinner and thinner as she relates her story, eyes narrowing in glacial dislike. "And you?"

"I'm his lieutenant," Hiyori admits in the sort of tone that hints that she isn't terribly proud of it. "He's really ineffectual."

The younger woman snorts contemptuously. "Why does that not surprise me?"

They fall back to silence for a few more moments, both taking gulps of increasing size from their sake cups and rapping the counter to indicate they want more when the cup is drained. Then, after her second refill, Hiyori seems to realize something and, smirking, turns an eye on Soi Fong. "So, I take it you hate Urahara as much as I do, right?"

She sniffs primly. "Probably more, at that."

Hiyori nods, and takes a moment to process this information. Then, her smirk widens to an absolutely predatory grin, sharp incisors gleaming. "Friend?"

It doesn't take Soi Fong any time at all to register what Hiyori's asking her. After a moment's hesitation, she nods. "Friend."