“Rerugen-san? Is something wrong?” Kisuke asks in concern, wondering why Rerugen is standing in front of the Shoten at almost four in the morning. He waits a moment, worry growing deeper, as Rerugen just stares blankly at him, mouth slightly open and eyes wide, then frowns and steps back to gesture the man inside. “Maa, come in, come in.”

Rerugen’s mouth snaps closed and he ducks his head slightly, avoiding Kisuke’s gaze as he slinks into the Shoten and lets Kisuke close the door behind him.

Kisuke waits for Rerugen to say something in explanation, fighting the urge to needle the man the longer the silence stretches; it’s unlike Rerugen to show up so late at night, especially after being so vehemently against staying at the Shoten to recover, so the fact that he’s here, now, is concerning.

Except Rerugen just stands there, hands clenched at his side and head tilted down, his reiatsu coiled so tightly away that Kisuke can’t sense a thing from the man. And the more Kisuke looks, the more concerned he becomes.

Rerugen is a mess, his hair wild from sleep and dark circles under his eyes, skin slightly ashen, and his clothing is… well. It isn’t like Rerugen to leave his home in such disarray, no matter the hour, but right now… right now, Rerugen’s shirt buttons aren’t lined up correctly, leaving one side of his collar higher than the other, and his shirt isn’t even tucked in correctly.

(He wishes he had no idea why Rerugen would come to his door looking like this, but… well…)

(He knows better than most what nightmares can do to a person.)

“Come on,” Kisuke says gently as he reaches out to rest a hand on the small of Rerugen’s back, making sure to telegraph his motions. When Rerugen does nothing but tense slightly at the touch, Kisuke clicks his tongue and gives the man a slight nudge, guiding him through the public store and into the back. “Let’s get some food into you, hmm?”

“I’m fine,” Rerugen denies automatically, though he doesn’t resist being moved. “I’m not hungry. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Humor me, then, and join me for a late snack,” Kisuke says dryly, not wanting to fight when he has no idea when Rerugen last ate; he doubts he can get much into the man, but anything is better than nothing after the past few days.

Rerugen sighs but don’t protest as Kisuke guides him into the kitchen and towards the table, just takes a seat and slumps down, exhaustion becoming more evident the moment he’s off his feet.

Kisuke eyes him worriedly before turning to dig into the fridge, wondering exactly what he can heat up to feed the man; they keep plenty of leftovers around — between Ururu and Jinta being growing kids, and Kisuke’s odd hours, it’s a bit of a necessity — but most of it is heavier food, or spiced, or things that Kisuke knows that Eri— that Rerugen dislikes. And he’s not about to try his hand at cooking — he knows better than most how terrible his own attempts turn out — which leaves very little for Kisuke to offer.

Oh, there is a container of miso soup in the fridge, though!

With a noise of triumph, Kisuke pulls it out, and then reaches up to grab two large, thick mugs from the cabinet overhead; if he wanted to be proper, he should use bowls, but it’s four in the morning and why the hell shouldn’t he drink soup out of mug if he wants to?

(Besides, mugs mean that Rerugen doesn’t need to try and coordinate his hands to use a spoon.)

(Kisuke will take any chance to make things easier for the other right now.)

He ladles soup into both mugs, puts a paper towel over top, and then sets them in the microwave to reheat while he puts the container back in the fridge. He even gives the mugs a few extra seconds to cool off before he pulls them out and carries them over to the table, just in case. “Here we go!” he announces as he sets one down in front of Rerugen, then settles into the seat next to the man. “Enjoy!”

Rerugen eyes the mug warily, then lifts it up to give it a sniff. “Miso soup?” he asks, slanting an incredulous look at Kisuke as he does. “In a mug.”

“Ah, well, it’s easier to eat this way,” Kisuke defends, lifting his own mug up to blow on the surface of it. “I wanted something easy.”

Rerugen grunts and leans back in his seat, cradling the mug between his hands and just… sits, staring at it blankly instead of actually trying it.

“Rerugen-san—”

“I need your help,” Rerugen abruptly declares, still staring at the mug in his hands instead of looking at Kisuke.

Kisuke freezes. Swallows. Takes a sip from his mug to buy himself a moment.

(He never expected to hear those words out of Eri— Rerugen’s mouth.)

(What in the world is going on tonight?)

“What do you need?” Kisuke asks as soon as he’s certain he’ll sound curious instead of incredulous.

“I…” Rerugen pauses, fiddling with the mug in his hands, then slowly continues with, “I need you to help someone regain a body of their own.”

Kisuke forces his body to stay relaxed, even as his mind races with plans; he’d not expected Rerugen to come to him so soon about his guest, but he’s a bit relieved. Even if it means he hasn’t had a chance to fully consider his options, it’s one less worry, one less threat, hanging over his friend’s head. “Ah, it might take a bit to separate your souls—”

“No. Not— not him,” Rerugen interrupts. He shifts a bit restlessly in his seat, a fingernail tapping against the side of his mug, and says, “There’s… another. Who came with him. But she… she isn’t anchored to anything, and she can’t ‘reform’. If— if we don’t do anything, she’ll just cease to exist and she’s im— she doesn’t deserve that. Not— not when they both came here because of me.”

Kisuke hides his frown behind his mug, a bit worried by Rerugen’s words; he was about to say this other person is ‘important’, Kisuke is pretty sure, but… important to who? Rerugen’s guest? And while he supposes he can understand the sentiment— “You do know I can do both, yes? This isn’t an either-or situation, Rerugen-san,” Kisuke gently reminds Rerugen. “You don’t need to—”

“He’s fine where he is!” Rerugen snaps, knuckles going white as he grips the mug tighter. “Just… it’s fine, Urahara-san. If you don’t want to—”

“Maa, who said anything about not wanting to?” Kisuke interrupts, then sighs, drains the last of his soup, and sets his mug aside. “I worry, is all,” he says softly as he turns to face Rerugen. “I’ve never heard of a case like this, but the stress your soul must be under is… it’s worrying, Rerugen-san. The sooner you don’t have that strain on you, the happier I’ll be.”

Rerugen wrinkles his nose and gives Kisuke a dark look. “He’s a version of me, I doubt it’s as bad as you think,” Rerugen mutters. “Just… leave it be for now. Please. Trust that I’ll come to you if I start feeling worse,” he says, then pauses a moment, frowns darkly, and snaps, “And you can both stop worrying. We’ve discussed this. It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Guests giving you lip?” Kisuke can’t help but ask in amusement. He wishes he could hear the other half of the conversation, if only to confirm that the two are arguing against Rerugen’s decision to keep the other in his soul, which Kisuke never thought he’d hear. Rerugen never struck him as the sort to appreciate another sharing space with him like that, much less two, and though he’s apparently aiming to get one of them a body right now, he’s willingly letting the other stay as part of him?

(Or is he over-thinking things.)

(Does Erich want to keep the other close just in case Yhwach isn’t quite as dead as believed?)

Eri— Rerugen scowls and sets his mug down on the table. “It’s fine,” he repeats sternly, then pushes back from the table and stands up, arms crossing over his chest as he glowers down at Kisuke. “Will you help, or won’t you?”

Kisuke blinks up at him, surprised by the defensiveness in Rerugen’s stance and tone; he’d thought— but no, Rerugen is clearly exhausted and out of sorts, it’s perhaps not much of a surprise that the man is getting agitated by Kisuke’s deflections and questions. More concerning is the fact that Rerugen didn’t eat a thing the entire time they were talking, meaning the man still doesn’t have anything in his stomach. He really hopes Rerugen isn’t sliding back into his Rukongai habits, because that implies he no longer feels safe around Kisuke, and if that’s true—

(No, worry about it later.)

(It’s probably just the events of the past few days, nothing else.)

“Well?” Rerugen prompts, brows furrowing and body tensing, as if he expects Kisuke to tell him to get out at any moment.

That certainly won’t do, Kisuke decides with a touch of guilt; he hadn’t meant to remain silent like that, but he’s… concerned, his mind twisting into knots of what-if and how-come. So he rises to his feet and nods towards Rerugen’s mug as he says, “I’ll help, but Rerugen-san needs to eat if he wants to heal.”

Rerugen scoffs at that, but still swipes the mug off the table and raises it to his lips, drinking it in a few quick swallows before setting the mug back on the table and fixing Kisuke with a challenging look. “Better?”

“Mmmm, it will do for now,” Kisuke agrees, before gesturing for Rerugen to follow him out of the kitchen and down the hall to his lab. “Take a seat,” he says as he nudges a stool towards Rerugen, then turns to start pulling the supplies he needs to create a gigai out of one of the cabinets in the back. “There will undoubtedly be some trial and error involved in this process, since gigai are meant to house empowered souls while in the Living World and I’ll probably need to modify it for your guests, but I’m sure we’ll get something made,” he rambles just to fill the silence, not wanting Rerugen to think he’s being ignored all over again. “I’ll need to meet the one you want a gigai for first,” he adds as he starts to turn around, “Just to— ah!” Kisuke yelps and stumbles back, hip slamming painfully into a table, as he comes face-to— well, not face, exactly, since the glowing golden figure barely reaches his collarbones, but still! A little warning, please!

The figure giggles silently and waves at him, then extends her hand and looks at him expectantly.

Kisuke blinks down at it, then slants a glance at Rerugen in question, wondering what’s going on and if the man has any more of a clue than he does.

“She wants to shake hands,” Rerugen tells him, brown eyes warm with amusement. “She says hello, that her name is Io, and that she appreciates what you’re doing.”

“Huh.” Kisuke turns that information over in his mind as he awkwardly reaches out to grasp Io’s hand; ‘handshakes’ aren’t something he’s used to doing, but there’s no sense in being rude to someone that Rerugen-san seems to like. “Nice to meet you, Io-san,” he says, before he’s distracted by the odd sensation she’s giving off.

Io’s body isn’t a body, exactly — he already knew that just by Rerugen’s words and the color of her, of course — but he hadn’t expected her form to be… prickly? Almost like static against his skin. And trying to get a sense of her soul is difficult, not because she’s hiding like Rerugen does, but because every time he thinks he’s made sense of her presence, something in it catches his attention all over again and makes him have to reassess.

Io leans closer, rising up onto her toes, and peers right into Kisuke’s face, her head cocked and expression curious.

“She wants to know what you’re doing,” Rerugen explains before Kisuke can ask.

“Ahaha, sorry about that.” Kisuke releases her hand and sidles around the table to put some space between him and his odd guest. “Just distracted trying to, uh… trying to figure out how best to go about this, is all!”

Rerugen purses his lips, then shakes his head and looks away, apparently deciding against saying anything.

Kisuke frowns, concerned by the silence, and glances at Io in question, wondering if she has any insight she can give him despite her apparent inability to speak aloud in this form. When all she does is shake her own head sadly and look away, Kisuke’s frown deepens; he wants to ask, wants to pick and prod and pester until he gets his answers and Rerugen stops acting so strange, but he knows that won’t work. Knows that trying it will just lose him a friend, and that’s… he doesn’t want that.

(Eri— Rerugen is one of the few people who actually like him, not just tolerate his existence!)

So instead, he tries to set his worries aside in order to focus on the task in front of him: creating a gigai for Io.

Creating a gigai is not exactly a difficult task, but even the brief moment he held Io’s hand was enough to tell him that a regular gigai is not going to work for her; she’s not exactly of this world, which means a regular gigai won’t properly anchor her in a way that will let her survive on her own. He’s going to need to adjust it, tune it to her specific existence, which means—

“You won’t be able to leave this gigai once we get it right,” Kisuke warns Io as he adds the last ingredient and shapes the necessary kido to create a basic gigai. When she cocks her head at him in question, he considers how best to explain, then shrugs and says, “This isn’t your world, and you don’t have an anchor like Rerugen-san’s other guest, so… this gigai will have to do. Which means if you leave it, you’ll go back to looking like you do now.”

“She doesn’t mind,” Rerugen answers for her. “I… honestly, I don’t think either of them have had anything to do with, well… souls like us until now.”

Kisuke scowls at that, disturbed by Rerugen’s words. “You said he’s a version of you,” Kisuke says warily. “I know the skills he displayed aren’t exactly Quincy skills, but…”

Rerugen hesitates, gaze darting from Kisuke to Io and then away, before saying, “It’s… complicated. I don’t know all the details, but I think… whatever their world was like, it was nothing like ours.”

Flecks of amber bleed into Rerugen’s brown eyes as his guest draws closer to the surface, and Kisuke watches warily for any sign of… something. A struggle, maybe, or evidence of pain, or— or something, but the only thing that happens is Rerugen’s body relaxes into a more casual posture and his legs fold up a bit, balls of his feet bracing against a higher rung on the stool than Rerugen was using.

“I don’t remember much,” the other says with a small, twisted smile. “And neither does Io. So if we ever came across beings like you, we don’t remember anymore.”

“You lost your memory? Both of you?” Kisuke isn’t sure what to make of that idea; he knows how real amnesia works, and no one simply loses the entirety of their memory. Not without something very, very life-threatening happening, something that should have left signs on the two beyond the memory loss.

The other nods in agreement. “When a revenant disperses, we can sometimes leave bits of ourselves behind,” he explains, as if his words make any sense at all. “A bad dispersal can take even more. I… well…”

“Had a very bad dispersal?” Kisuke asks dryly, wondering if he should even be humoring the other.

The other’s gaze goes distant as he presses a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “You could say that,” he murmurs, then shakes his head, gives Kisuke a faint, fragile smile, and retreats before Kisuke can ask any other questions.

Rerugen awkwardly clears his throat as he straightens up, rubbing the heel of his hand against his chest as if he could feel something of what the other had. “I think that’s enough questions about that,” he declares firmly, gaze fixed slightly to the right of Kisuke instead of on him. “Do you know how long this will take?”

Kisuke looks down at the partially built gigai in front of him and considers what he’ll probably need to do to customize it to act as Io’s anchor. “A few hours?” he hazards a guess.

“A few—” Rerugen’s breath hisses through his teeth as he cuts himself off. “No, never mind. Thank you, Urahara-san, for doing this.”

“Ah, is that too long?” Kisuke asks worriedly; Io hadn’t particularly felt unstable when he’d lightly prodded her, but perhaps she and Rerugen know something he doesn’t? “I can probably get close enough in—”

“It’s fine, Urahara-san,” Rerugen interrupts, something odd in his voice that Kisuke can’t place. “Io-san isn’t in danger yet. Take your time.”

Kisuke sends a wary look Rerugen’s way, uncertain how he should take that, but actually looking at the man doesn’t make anything clearer; Rerugen’s head is turned slightly to the side, expression calm and attention focused on Io. Whatever surprised Rerugen about his estimate, the man isn’t giving any sign of it through any means Kisuke can determine.

Which is worrying, since if he doesn’t know why Rerugen was surprised, then he doesn’t know whether it’s a good thing or not. He hopes it is, he really does, but— but what if— what if it isn’t? What if he’s managed to disappoint Rerugen somehow?

Kisuke takes a careful breath. Squeezes his eyes shut. Tries to focus on the task in front of him.

(Whether or not he’s managed to disappoint Rerugen with his estimate, it doesn’t matter.)

(He refuses to disappoint the man even more by messing up due to inattention!)

He throws himself into his work, tweaking and building and rebuilding the gigai over and over again, every iteration getting him closer to a match to Io’s presence. It’s a fascinating challenge if he’s being honest; some things he expects to work categorically don’t, and other things do, and he’s pretty sure it has to do with whatever-it-is that Rerugen’s guest spoke of, about ‘when a revenant disperses’ and all. The implications of that are fascinating — and something he’d absolutely love to investigate further — but for right now it’s just causing him grief.

Suddenly, a hand grabs his sleeve and tugs, snapping his attention away from the gigai to— Io?

She smiles sheepishly up at him, then turns to point across the table towards Rerugen, who is—

“Shit,” Kisuke hisses as he hastily ties off his kido and leaps forward in a burst of shunpo, catching hold of Erich before the listing, half-asleep man can topple from the stool.

Erich inhales sharply and scrambles upright, eyes wide-hazy-confused as he stares at the lab and then up at Kisuke. “Kisuke…?”

“You’re falling asleep sitting up,” Kisuke says fondly, unable to hide the warmth bubbling up at the sound of Erich using his given name. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, Rerugen-san.”

Erich scowls. “No, it’s fine, I’m fine,” he protests as he tries to pull out of Kisuke’s grip, only to give up after a couple moments. “I don’t— you don’t need to baby me,” he grumbles.

Kisuke clicks his tongue and gently pulls Erich to his feet, only to immediately tug the man closer when he just sways with exhaustion. “Rerugen-san, please. You’re exhausted and you need rest. I know you don’t like to spend time under my roof, but—”

“That’s… that’s not it,” Erich mutters, shoulders rounding and chin tipped towards the floor. “I just… I don’t want—” he hesitates a moment, then shakes his head and finishes with a soft, “never mind.”

Kisuke tightens his arm around Erich as he considers his options; whenever he has a nightmare, he just works on something until he falls over from exhaustion, but Erich’s just been sitting and watching him for… however long it’s been. Which probably gave him plenty of time to dwell on it, even as he became more and more exhausted.

Maybe… maybe if Kisuke lets his reiatsu out and lets Erich sleep in his lab… maybe it will help? Maybe the knowledge that someone else is right there will let Erich sleep peacefully?

“I have an idea,” Kisuke says as he sweeps Erich up into his arms again and makes his way towards the back of his lab, ignoring the indignant noises that Erich’s making. “How about sleeping in here while I work?”

Erich raps his knuckles against Kisuke’s chest and asks, “Do I have any choice in this?”

“Maa, you could always sit up and force yourself to stay awake,” Kisuke answers with a small laugh, even as he darts up in a tiny burst of shunpo, bringing his chest level with the top of a specific cabinet. “Here we go!” he announces as he steps a bit closer, pulling Erich up in preparation to transfer the man to his hidden bed.

Erich starts in his arms and leans forward, reiatsu laced with surprise-curiosity-disbelief as he takes in the hidden bed sunk into the top of the cabinet. “You… put a bed up here?”

“Ah, well… it’s safe, and hidden, and warm, you know?” Kisuke says as he carefully lays Erich down and then reaches out to start to unbutton the man’s shirt. “And sometimes I’m just too tired to go to my room to sleep, so Tessai and I customized the cabinets back here to hide a bed atop this one.”

“That… makes sense,” Erich murmurs as he pushes himself up on one elbow and helps Kisuke pull his shirt off. “But are you… are you really fine with me being up here?”

“Would I have offered if I wasn’t?” Kisuke asks while folding Erich’s shirt and setting it atop the next cabinet.

The look Erich gives him for that is positively withering. “Yes,” the man bites out as he pulls his glasses off and folds them, before reaching over to set them atop his shirt. “You absolutely would.”

Kisuke snorts at Erich’s confidence and bites back the urge to point out that he absolutely would not be fine with offering this to just anyone else; the only other people who know about this bed are Tessai and Yoruichi, and he trusts both of them with his life. The fact that he’s also showing this to Io and Erich’s guest is unfortunate, but he’ll… he’ll live with it. Erich seems to trust them, so Kisuke will do his best to trust in Erich’s judgment about them.

“Hey,” Erich murmurs as he reaches out towards Kisuke, before freezing and dropping his hand to the futon, his cheeks tinting pink. “…never mind…”

Kisuke leans in, setting his hand atop Erich’s, and opens his mouth to ask—

Only to yelp in surprise as small hands touch the bottom of his feet and shove, sending him tumbling into bed atop Erich.

Erich gasps. Wriggles out from under Kisuke. Hisses out an infuriated, “Io!” even as he tucks himself against the raised edge and glares down.

Kisuke grimaces as he watches Erich grow tenser and tenser, but doesn’t dare move from where he’s managed to squirrel himself away; this bed is only just large enough for one, two if they lay on their sides and don’t mind cuddling, and there’s no way for him to get down except to crawl over Erich.

(This was absolutely not what he meant to do!)

(Damnit, Io!)

“I don’t need— Io, that’s not—,” Erich cuts himself off with a quiet snarl, then slumps and brings a hand up to rub at his face. “Sorry, Kisuke,” he mutters. “Io’s gotten it in her head that we both need sleep.”

“Ah, well… she’s… probably not wrong?” Kisuke offers with an awkward smile, abruptly remembering Unohana’s admonishment about staying out of his lab until he’s slept a decent amount; there’s no way even he can pretend that the handful of hours he got was ‘enough sleep’ to count.

(Well, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?)

(…right…?)

Erich sighs and leans back enough to cast a wary glance over his shoulder at Kisuke. “You’re… fine with this?”

“Mmmm, I don’t mind napping together, so long as you don’t mind,” Kisuke says, doing his best to keep his tone neutral; this is honestly more like a dream come true, if he’s being honest with himself, but if Erich is bothered by it, then Kisuke will absolutely climb out and get back to work.

Kisuke can almost see the war going on in Erich’s mind, before the man sighs and awkwardly edges a bit closer. “I get the feeling she’s not going to give this up,” he murmurs as he slowly arranges himself, head settling on one corner of the pillow and body stiff.

“If you don’t want to—”

“Kisuke,” Erich interrupts sharply, angling his head to give Kisuke an exhausted glower. “Just… go to sleep.”

“Well, if Rerugen-san insists,” Kisuke chirps just to make Erich groan in exasperation, then sits up enough to grab the blanket folded at the foot of the futon and pulls it over both of them. “Sleep well, Rerugen-san,” he murmurs, tucking his back against the wall and pillowing his head on his arm, trying to give Erich as much space as possible.

(With luck, he won’t move around in his sleep with Erich right there.)

(That would be… awkward.)

(Very awkward.)

(…he’s doomed, isn’t he…)