Apparently, Urahara's formalities had been bested by this woman's. He nodded with a smile as he sat down in the chair, appearing to busy himself with eating his food when in actuality he was sizing his new companion up. Her body language gave away what her formal speech didn't; she was the kind to be cool, controlled, but tense as hell beneath the surface, somewhat like Kuchiki in her worse moments. It occurred to him that she spoke more like a shinigami noble than an average human, and though he wondered about the implications of that, he kept his contemplations to himself.

"My name is Urahara Kisuke, and I'm a lowly shopkeeper," he said amiably. He raised his eyes towards the woman; she was elegant in a warrior princess kind of way. "May I ask your name and profession?"