The Adaptive Quincy of Bleach

Uryu stood there, confused. He wondered how his cousin had even managed to get him to agree to this.

"How would we even get into the casino? We are underage. You're 16, and I'm 15," Uryu added, looking at his brother. He was hoping to break Sora's illusion before he did something dumb.

"Let's get fake IDs," Sora said, as if it was the most brilliant idea ever.

"And where would you acquire such a thing? They're not exactly something you can just find. Furthermore, finding someone who could make quality ones without getting caught is a great risk," Uryu said, pushing his glasses back—a habit of his that made him look smarter than he actually was.

"You, my friend, were not born with a full deck."

Uryu always found ways to question divine intelligence. In Sora's opinion, if everyone were like him, or even had a fraction of his intellect, the world would be a much better place.

Considering Sora's blunt personality, he probably wouldn't do well as a doctor. Imagine visiting one and asking if your daughter had a chance, and the doctor bluntly replied, "No."

On the bright side, cheating on a partner would disappear, since Sora's bluntness extended to that too. Cheating on a test, though... let's not talk about it.

"Who do you know who could possibly make us usable IDs?" Uryu added, his brow furrowing.

POV change.

Both Sora and Uryu were seen standing in front of Kisuke Urahara.

"You're early? Are you that eager to work?" the man said in an innocent voice.

"Kisuke, we need fake IDs," Sora said bluntly.

The man's brow furrowed.

"And why would two young boys need those?" Kisuke said, waving his little fan in front of his face.

"We're going to gamble," Sora said dryly. Uryu, standing next to him, turned to look at his brother with a face that clearly said, 'The f** you mean, WE?'*

"Sora, are you French?" Uryu suddenly asked. Sora looked at him and replied, "No, why?"

"Then why are you speaking French? What is this we business? IT'S ALL YOU."

"Damn... just like that, you're going to throw me under the bus? After everything?"

"Unlike you, I'm no troublemaker."

"Probably why the only dates you get are on the calendar."

"....."

Kisuke's fan froze mid-wave as he watched the brothers bicker. This was comedy gold. He wondered how he was blessed by the heavens to witness this for free.

"Now, now, boys," Kisuke said with a lazy grin. "Let's not get too heated. Sibling love is a beautiful thing, and we wouldn't want that sullied by a little misunderstanding."

Uryu adjusted his glasses, still glaring daggers at Sora. "Misunderstanding? There's no misunderstanding here. I'm not the one trying to con a shopkeeper into aiding criminal activity."

Sora smirked, completely unfazed, as if he wasn't suggesting they commit a crime. "Con? I'm just looking to grease the wheels of opportunity, Uryu. You know, make life a little... smoother."

"Smooth is not the word I'd use to describe you," Uryu muttered, clearly regretting being dragged into this.

Kisuke chuckled a bit and waved his fan again. "Ah, such youthful energy! But as a humble shopkeeper and upstanding member of society, I could never—"

"Twenty percent of the winnings," Sora interjected smoothly, his tone cool and confident.

For a moment, Kisuke's expression didn't change. Then, as if on cue, a gleam lit up in his eyes. The fan snapped shut, and he leaned forward with an eager grin.

"Well, now," Kisuke said, his voice dripping with sudden enthusiasm, "why didn't you say you were a valued customer, Sora-kun? At the Urahara Shop, the customer is always right!"

Uryu's eyebrow twitched in disbelief. Such shamelessness... did shame not exist for those two people?

"You've got to be kidding me. That was the fastest 180-degree turn I've ever seen."

Kisuke clutched his chest dramatically as if Uryu's words had physically wounded him. "Oh, come now, Uryu-kun. It's not a change of heart—it's just good customer service! A businessman must always adapt to the needs of his clientele."

"Needs?" Uryu said flatly, wanting to make sure he was hearing everything right. "Sora's 'need' is to break the law and gamble."

"Invest," Sora corrected, pointing a finger upward like he'd just delivered a profound truth. "It's called investing, Uryu. Don't knock it till you try it."

Kisuke chuckled, rubbing his chin. "I like the sound of that. Investing. Very forward-thinking, Sora-kun."

Uryu groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You two are unbelievable."

"Unbelievably efficient," Sora shot back. "That's why you're the only guy I trust, Kisuke. Now, about those IDs..."

Kisuke put on a faux-innocent smile and waved his fan again. "Oh, I couldn't possibly—"

"Twenty-five percent," Sora interrupted.

"...Make fake IDs for you without ensuring the highest quality craftsmanship!" Kisuke finished seamlessly, clapping his hands together. "You've come to the right place, gentlemen."

Did shame not exist in this world? Uryu wondered if shame had left the mortal realm.

"You're shameless," Uryu said, glaring at Kisuke.

"And you're jealous," Sora quipped, nudging his brother. "See, Uryu? This is why you don't get invited to the cool table."

Uryu adjusted his glasses, trying to come up with a scathing retort, but all he could manage was a defeated sigh. "I'm going to regret this."

"Regret?" Kisuke said, chuckling. "No regrets in this shop, Uryu-kun. Only profits!"

As Kisuke whisked himself away to begin crafting the IDs, Sora leaned back, hands behind his head. "See? Easy peasy. You just have to know how to negotiate."

"You bribed him," Uryu deadpanned.

"Semantics," Sora said with a shrug. "Now, don't get too upset when I'm raking in the winnings and you're stuck being the responsible one."

"Someone has to be," Uryu muttered under his breath, glaring as Kisuke returned, already looking far too pleased with himself.

Kisuke handed the fake IDs over with a theatrical bow. "And here we are, gentlemen. I must say, these are my finest works yet."

Sora grabbed his and inspected it with a smirk. "Perfect. You're a lifesaver, Kisuke."

"Don't mention it," Kisuke said, the gleam in his eyes suggesting he was already thinking of how to spend his cut. "After all, the customer is always right."

Maybe now he could finally buy the new sofa he'd been thinking about. Finally, he wouldn't have to eat ramen noodles at a discount... life is truly good for the righteous...

....

....

Do not dig up his past.

A/N.