Uryuu strides across the Flight Field towards the back corner, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach and the curious looks of the Flying Knights that he passes. It’s just after breakfast like they agreed and Uryuu isn’t going to let nerves stand in his way.

(Oh, but what if Shiro decided otherwise?)

(What if he had only dreamed it up..?)

He bites the inside of his lip and slams that mental door closed. He can’t let doubts get in his way. Not now, not when he finally has a chance at his dreams…

Shiro’s waiting exactly where they agreed to, perched atop the fence with Getsuga’s head in his lap. He’s petting her like she’s nothing but a giant cat, talking idly with… with his twin.

Uryuu slows his pace and tries to assess Ichigo-sama’s state. He didn’t expect his Lord — his Commander — to appear as well, but… he should have. For all Shiro’s flippant words about poaching Uryuu from his brother, he doubts it’s truly that simple. Uryuu has a growing reputation amongst the field Knights, and if Ichigo-sama doesn’t want to let him go…

“’Ey! There ya are!” Shiro waves a hand and leans over Getsuga’s head, ignoring her disgruntled huff at being disturbed. “Mornin’, Uryuu.”

Ichigo’s expression sharpens at the casual familiarity and he fixes Uryuu with a piercing look. There’s no hostility present in the look, but the weight of it is… uncomfortable.

“Ichigo-sama, Shiro-sama,” Uryuu greets them as he steps within speaking range, struggling not to falter under Ichigo-sama’s regard. He doesn’t know what his Lord is judging him on, what might tip the scales one way or the other… or even what the scales are.

Is his Lord present to judge his suitability as Shiro’s partner? His potential as a Flying Knight? His right to even stay as a Knight at all?

All of it? None of it?

“Forgive me for not noticing or intervening sooner,” Ichigo-sama says with a far too deep bow for their stations. “I pride myself on keeping peace, and yet I could not keep it even within my own ranks.”

Uryuu’s mind grinds to a halt and he glances at Shiro in wordless panic. He can’t— he doesn’t— how is he supposed to react to that? He’d been the one who had hidden the truth from everyone but Urahara; he’d never expected his Lord to care about jibes and harmless tricks on the practice field. None of it interfered with his work, he made sure it didn’t interfere with his work…

Why is his Lord apologizing?!

“’Ey, Aibo, straighten yer ass up, yer makin’ a fool a’yerself,” Shiro says, leg swinging out to kick his brother’s thigh hard enough to make him yelp and stumble forward a step.

Ichigo-sama straightens up and rubs at his thigh, turning to scowl at Shiro as he snaps, “I’m doing the right fucking thing and apologizing, you ass.”

“Yer actin’ like a fool is what yer doing,” Shiro repeats with a huff. He levels a finger at his brother and sternly says, “Yea, ya shoulda paid more ‘ttention, but we ain’t perfect. We got shit we gotta deal with e’ry day an’ yer damn underlings shoulda fuckin’ caught it too!” Then, before Uryuu realizes Shiro’s intention, the man is pointing at him, expression gentling. “As fer ya… I ain’t ‘xactly thrilled with th’way ya hid this fer so long. I want ya t’make me a promise that you’ll speak t’me iffen anythin’ comes up, a’ight?”

Uryuu winces and looks away, his words caught in his throat.

(Of course he’d disappointed Shiro—)

(—everything was going far too well—)

(—couldn’t even stand in front of the man’s twin without everything falling apart—)

“’Ey, ‘ey, none of that,” Shiro murmurs. He drops from the fence with a thump and stalks over, one hand settling on Uryuu’s waist and the other reaching up to brush across Uryuu’s cheek. “Partners tell each other shit, right? They don’t jes… bottle it all up an’ hope fer th’best. They try’n help each other, an y’can’t help what y’don’t know. So… please? Will ya at least try?”

Uryuu shivers and risks a glance at Shiro. The man is so close, fire-warm and lightning-sharp against his senses, but he can’t see or feel any of the hate or disappointment he expects. Just warmth and care and a patience Uryuu never expected to sense out of his wild, willful Lord.

(But that makes sense when he actually thinks instead of accepts the mask his Lord wears.)

(No one tames a wyvern by being impatient. No one gains such a loyal, devoted companion as Getsuga without patience.)

Shiro draws him closer, stepping both of them back until Getsuga is suddenly there. Her breath is hot on the back of Uryuu’s neck as she cranes her head around and nudges him into her side, her wing-arm folding over-and-down until the world is all deep-violet shadows and bright beams of golden sunlight.

It’s like an entirely separate world, held in Shiro’s arms and hidden by Getsuga’s wing. It’s warm. Hidden. Safe.

(Safe the way only Urahara’s quarters are.)

Shiro’s golden eyes gleam bright with mana-shine as he watches Uryuu, but he doesn’t push. He seems… content like this. Content to let Uryuu take the time he needs to put his thoughts back in order, to put language to his wordless, scattered emotions that choke his throat.

“I’ll try,” Uryuu whispers at last, letting his head rest against Shiro’s shoulder. It’s all he can promise at the moment.

(He trusts but he doesn’t trust… not the same way he trusts Urahara. Not yet.)

(Hopefully… hopefully that will come.)

(Hopefully Shiro will have patience…)

“Good. S’all I can ask fer.” Shiro smiles and kisses Uryuu’s forehead, murmuring, “An’ if yer uncomfortable t’start, y’can always speak with Hat’n’Clogs first. Talk it out wit’ ‘im. Y’trust ‘is judgment, right?”

“I do, yes.” He’d ignored Urahara’s words because he hadn’t wanted to be a bother, hadn’t wanted to draw more attention to himself than necessary. But… but if he is Shiro’s partner…

(Partners. People who help each other in turn…)

(He’d never thought—)

(Equals. He… he could do that, maybe?)

“There ya go, then. Talk it out wit’ ‘im so y’can get yer thoughts in order, then come t’me.” Shiro frees one arm and reaches back, murmuring a soft, “Down, girl,” that makes Getsuga snort in what feels like exasperation.

She settles though, her body lowering to the ground and her tail curling around them as Shiro pulls Uryuu down with him. They curl into her side, still hidden in the deep-violet gloom beneath her wing. Except this time there are fewer beams of sunlight leaking through, leaving them in darkness broken only by mana-shine and tiny sunbeams caused by Getsuga’s movements.

(The darkness is more freeing that Uryuu expected.)

He closes his eyes and breathes, forcing his body to relax. “Sorry,” he mutters, “for… this. Being… like this. I know we were going to—” Uryuu cuts himself off as a finger presses against his lips and looks up at Shiro in puzzlement.

“Don’t ‘pologize fer needin’ moments. Ya ain’t seen it yet, but… I get times when I jes… can’t. E’rything’s too much an’ it all jes turns into one giant tangle an’ I can’t… do anything. Jes gotta… sit like this till it all sorts out. Usually with someone cause I don’t wanna be alone but I ain’t much company like that so…” Shiro shrugs awkwardly and leans back, tucking them more firmly into Getsuga’s side. “An’ Aibo gets his own moments too, an’ so does Zan. Ain’t make them or me any less cause of it. Ain’t make you any less cause my ass of a brother decided t’surprise ya like that.”

Uryuu bites back his immediate instinct to deny the cause of his reaction — trust, Shiro is worth his trust, he knows this — and slowly nods. “He… doesn’t need to apologize to me.”

“Does though,” Shiro says casually, pressing his finger back to Uryuu’s lips when he goes to protest. “His job’s t’make sure th’ Knights are workin’ t’gether. Gunna be a lot of shake-up ‘cause of this. People either turned a blind eye or were actually ignorant a’what was goin’ on. Neither’s a good look fer an Order dedicated t’noble ideals an’ protectin’ others.”

Said like that, Uryuu can almost understand Ichigo-sama’s position. “I should have spoken up sooner,” he tries, watching Shiro carefully for any reaction.

“Eh. Maybe. But it’s Aibo’s job, an’ mine fer the Flying Knights, t’keep an eye on things. We’re jes as guilty as any a’the other knights fer overlooking obvious signs.”

He grimaces and shakes his head, but… he can’t articulate why Shiro’s words feel so wrong.

(They weren’t… it wasn’t their fault.)

(If he’d only been… different. Better. More suited to life at the castle—)

Shiro huffs and drops his chin to rest atop Uryuu’s head. “How ‘bout this, then. We all fucked up an’ we all made mistakes in this. Th’only way forward is t’accept that an’ learn from it, right?” A pleased rumble escapes Shiro’s throat when Uryuu gives a hesitant nod. “Good,” he continues, “then we’ll rest here until yer feelin’ better, an’ then go poke around th’dens an’ stables. Sound like a plan?”

“You… still want to?”

“Course I do! I wanna see what sorta companion ya pick out,” Shiro reassures, tightening his arms around Uryuu. “I think there’s a couple that’ll really catch yer interest.”

“There are? Will you… tell me about them?”

“‘Course I will. So startin’ with th’wyverns…”