Kisuke woke with a start, chased by swirling memories of teeth-claws-bright wings-dark eyes-song. Everything blurred together, a nightmare of sight-sound-sensation that left him trembling-aching-burning—

He closed his eyes. Grounded himself in himself until the memories — nightmares? — faded from prominence. His side ached but not as much as he remembered—

(Rescued, check. But not by Tessai.)

(Healing applied but not completely — limitations of the healer or simply wanting him handicapped?)

—and he was alone in the room, left to his own devices despite being an unknown. So his benefactors were either trusting or confident.

Either way, it gave him the time he needed to sort himself out.

Kisuke prodded at his wounds, remembering the Hollows that dealt them and the way his body had burned, reiatsu eaten away by something in the beast’s claws. He remembered stumbling away from the clearing, trying to find his way back and getting lost.

A lake. A swan.

An… angel?

He frowned and stared up at the ceiling, trying to piece together fragments of memory. People had found him, he knew that, was certain it had been a man and a woman, but…

A brilliant white wing stretching over his head to block the sun. Black, inhuman eyes staring down at him in concern. Black claws brushing against his side. Feathered skin against his cheek. An ethereal song that soothed his wounds.

(Hallucinations or something else?)

(Something real?)

(Something like… yokai?)

A final prod at his side and Kisuke gave up. His memories were a mess and that wouldn’t change; all he could do was keep an eye out and his mind open. Whoever they were, he’d figure out their secrets soon enough.

Carefully sitting up, Kisuke took in the room. It was clearly a guest room, bare of any identifying features, and told him very little about the nature of who had him. A change of clothes sat in a tidy pile by the head of the futon, a cup and a pitcher of water sat atop a nearby low table, and that was it.

It was all very traditional.

Kisuke examined his bandages, careful not to pull at the covered wounds too much. Everything looked fine, the padding was clean, and his movements were limited but not terribly restricted.

Whoever had bandaged him knew their business.

(But who’d found him?)

(And… where was Benihime?)

He scowled down at the blanket pooled in his lap, trying to think, trying to remember—

(Had he had her when he’d been found?)

(Had he dropped her somewhere?)

(He… couldn’t remember.)

Kisuke rubbed at his temple, already feeling a headache building. His reiryoku was low, his side ached despite the healing applied to it, and he couldn’t remember where he’d last had Benihime. Wonderful.

He mulled over his fragmented memories as he got dressed in the provided clothing — a bit tight around the shoulders and a bit short, not unexpected considering his height — and stood. Dizziness struck, making him sway and hastily brace himself against the wall before he could fall.

(Must have lost more blood than he thought. Damnit.)

(What the hell did those Hollows have on their claws?)

Kisuke breathed through the dizziness until it passed, then took a careful step away from the wall. He didn’t feel like he was going to fall over, and staying put had never been his strong suit anyway, so…

He crossed to the door and slid it open, peering out into the hallway. Soft voices drifted down from his right, indistinct enough that he couldn’t tell what they were saying, and a whisper of unrestrained reiatsu brushed against his senses.

(One signature was not a surprise given his healing… three however…)

(How unexpected.)

Curiosity aroused, Kisuke wandered down the hallway towards the voices he could hear. Hopefully whoever was there would know more about whatever had happened to him and Benihime, or at least where he was and how to contact Karakura.

(He was thoroughly sick of nature.)

(Next time he got bored and restless he’d do something other than hunting rumors of Hollows lurking in the wild.)

He paused in the doorway and scanned the three sitting at the table, taking in their casual clothes and easy posture; they seemed unconcerned about having a stranger in their home, their reiatsu signatures exposed and mingling together as if they weren’t revealing their very selves to him.

(How long since he’d seen anyone so comfortable..?)

Kisuke shook his head and focused. They… were no threat to him; there was strength in their signatures, a fierce protectiveness and a fiercer love, but… there was nothing that made him wary, nothing that set off his instincts.

(And that set off his instincts, but…)

(Sometimes kindness was just kindness, out here in the Living World.)

And then the man looked up and caught Kisuke’s eye and… and he knew that face. Knew that white forelock draping across the right side of his face and that curious head-tilt, but…

The man’s eyes were brown and the angles of his face were gentler, more human. No white feathers adorned any bit of his visible skin, nor did he have wings of any kind. His arms looked right and the hand holding the teacup had decidedly human nails, not claws like his memories insisted.

He was not the part man, part bird that his memories had painted.

(Blood-loss and shock or… something else?)

“Maa, nice to meet you properly, angel-san!” Kisuke announced before the silence his arrival prompted could grow awkward.

The man rolled his eyes. “There is still nothing angelic about me, so I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t.”

The other two laughed, then one turned and smiled up at him, gesturing for him to come and join them.

“I’m Mami,” she announced cheerfully as Kisuke crossed the room. “This is Ren, and your angel-san is Erich.”

“I’m not his anything,” Erich grouched without real heat, then gave Kisuke a pointed look and asked, “And your name would be..?”

“Ah, my apologies! I’m Urahara Kisuke,” he said as he carefully sat, ignoring the pain that flared in his side at the action. It wasn’t anything critical and he couldn’t do anything about it anyway—

A wordless song distracted him from the pain, drawing his eye over to Ren. They were leaning a bit forward, gaze focused on him and a strange song spilling from their lips. It settled over him like a physical thing, drawing reishi and reiatsu towards him and pressing in to cover his wounds.

Kisuke held still. Tried not to fight the unknown skill. The song was familiar but… the voice was wrong.

(That wasn’t the voice he remembered.)

(‘My mate rarely sings for anyone outside our family.’)

(What would it take to hear it again?)

Wrong voice or not, he could already feel the pain fading and his wounds stitching together just a bit more. The healing itched, unlike Shinigami Kaidō, and did nothing for his reiryoku reserves.

(So this was how he’d been healed.)

(How fascinating.)

Ren let the song fade and sat back with a small huff, leaning against Mami. “That’s about all I can do. You’ll need to heal naturally for the rest.”

“Maa, even this is quite an improvement!” Kisuke assured them with a smile, prodding lightly at his side and noting the lessened pain. “That’s quite a skill you have there. I’ve never seen something like it before.”

Mami laughed and shook her head, giving him a bright smile as she did. “There was a songstress in Ren’s family a couple generations back! She figured out how to use her songs for more than just entertainment, and then figured out how to teach others how to do it too.” Her smiled turned softer and she gave Ren a warm look, brushing a few loose strands of hair from Ren’s face. “Not everyone can, and we don’t really know what the difference is, but it’s a useful skill to have since we’re so far from town.”

“I can imagine,” he agreed, looking between the three and wondering what it would take to discover the full truth. There was more to the story than that, he knew there was; it felt too… practiced, too clean. It was a sanitized story designed for outsiders, just enough truth to sound good without giving anything away. “Ah… on the subject of being far from town… exactly how far are we?”

“About five hours walk,” Ren said with a wry smile. “My family has a tradition of living well away from things, and I’m afraid I inherited that inclination in full.”

Kisuke blinked, wondering if Ren was having him on. Five hours walk was… certainly farther from Karakura than he expected to be. If it was true, then his combat must have carried him further into the woods than he’d thought.

“It’s peaceful out here, barring the occasional wounded fool stumbling onto our land,” Erich added dryly, tapping a nail against his teacup and giving Kisuke a bland look.

“Get many wounded fools, then?” Kisuke teased.

“No. Most people have more sense than to go after monsters on their own in unfamiliar territory.”

Kisuke swayed back and pressed his hands to his chest, pouting at Erich as he did. “Mou, so cruel!”

Erich’s expression went flat at Kisuke’s antics. “Mmm, yes. Cruel. The one thing I’m known for.” Ren and Mami snickered at his words, then tried fruitlessly to muffle their laughter when Erich shot them a sour look. “Amusement of traitors aside,” he continued with a deadpan tone, “it’s probably best if you stay the evening and let Ren and Mami guide you back to Karakura in the morning.”

“Not you, angel-san?” Kisuke couldn’t help but prod, a sly smile pulling at his lips. “Whatever will I do without my guardian angel to lead the way?”

“I have better things to do than escorting fools.”

Kisuke laughed and rubbed at the back of his head. “Maa, maa, no need to be so harsh, angel-san—”

“Erich. My name is Erich and I would appreciate it if you’d use it.”

“Erich-tenshi-san, then,” Kisuke said, smirking at the frustration-exasperation-resignation that flickered across Erich’s face. Needling the man was probably a bad idea, but his reactions were so much fun that Kisuke didn’t want to stop.

“Boys, no fighting at the table,” Mami interjected before Erich could say anything else. “Urahara-san, please stop baiting one of the people who saved you. You sound like a boy pulling braids.”

Erich choked on his tea and shot Kisuke a perturbed look. “Married,” he said, raising his left hand into the air and waving it so that the golden band on his ring finger glinted in the light. “And even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be interested in an obnoxious fool like yourself.”

“I’m flexible,” Kisuke’s mouth said before his brain could catch up. But it was definitely worth it for the flush that crawled across Erich’s cheeks before the man glared at him. Then he caught sight of Mami’s expression and had to suppress a wince. Something about her flat, disappointed look was worse than the murderous glare Erich was giving him. “Ahahahaha… sorry, sorry. Sometimes my mouth runs away from me?”

“Please try to restrain yourself,” she told him firmly. “You are a guest in our home and a stranger to us. Such comments border on inappropriate even if you weren’t.”

He flashed her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I’ll try to restrain myself.”

“See that you do,” she said with a nod, then rose to her feet and stepped away from the table. “I need to see to the last of our dinner preparations. Play nice or you’ll be eating in the guest room alone, Urahara-san.”

Kisuke nodded in agreement, unwilling to risk her further ire. Weakened as he was — and faced with three unknowns with unknown skills — it wasn’t worth the potential fight just to continuing needling one of them. He’d have more chances to poke at Erich later, he was certain.

For now he’d play nice and observe everything he could, because who knew what he’d find out here.

(Everything about these people was fascinating.)

(What better way to kill his boredom?)