Yuko said nothing. She merely frowned and thought it over.
Technically, she was on the Seireitei's payroll now. She ought to warn Old Man Yama about Yhwach and those Quincy.
The Quincy were preparing something big right under his nose. What if they launched a surprise attack?
But when the words reached her lips, she swallowed them.
It wasn't that she had no conscience. Well, she had a little—at least a fingernail's worth.
Seeing her deep in thought, Kisuke Urahara seemed to read her mind. "Yuko, there are things even the all-knowing, all-powerful Soul King chose to stay silent about. Perhaps that silence was part of his will."
"The Soul King's will?" Yuko looked up. She didn't think he was talking about the same thing she was. "You mean he foresaw this future and still chose to let himself be made into a human stick?"
"Who knows?" Kisuke Urahara shrugged. "If you ever get the chance to visit the Royal Palace, you could ask him yourself."
"No thanks. I'm not the sort of person who chats with a figurine."
"You... just said something pretty awful."
Yuko stood and brushed the dust from her pant legs. "Anyway, let's leave it there. It's getting late, so I'm heading back."
"Come by whenever you have time."
"Oh, right. Remember to send the money." Yuko waved, then remembered to call back that reminder before stepping out of the Urahara Shop.
She looked up at the sky.
The Soul King's will?
What a saint.
If even her existence was something the Soul King had foreseen, she would leave things as they were for now.
If the sky fell, someone taller could hold it up.
In the end, she hadn't learned much from Urahara. She'd only heard about the world's origins and the conflict between Quincy