“I’m going to head back in,” Ukitake said after a long stretch of silence. He pushed away from the railing and gathered Erich’s plate and chopsticks up, flashing a soft smile at Erich as he did. “Stay out here as long as you like, I don’t mind. I’ll make sure there’s food in the kitchen for you”

Erich watched the man leave, then breathed out a soft huff and leaned more heavily against the railing, staring at the pond below. Large, beautiful koi swum through the water, darting in and out of the shade as they made their rounds. He’d never seen such large fish before and it was fascinating to watch them move around each other, so smooth and graceful in their element.

He angled his head and let his gaze become unfocused, the brilliant markings of the fish becoming a colorful blur that distracted his hunter’s brain. It was nice to have something meditative to focus on while he tried to think for the first time in two days.

Everything had worked out about as well as could be expected, Erich acknowledged; he’d reached the Quincy boy before any permanent harm could be caused and then aided him in protecting his chosen people. The rebellion had been quelled before it could truly divide the Shinigami — not that he cared how the Shinigami were affected by traitors in their midst! — and the damage had been mitigated there as well.

(He’d announced himself as a Dragon and had not been immediately slaughtered.)

(That alone was cause for rejoicing.)

Erich scraped a claw across the wooden railing, shaving off a tiny splinter and flicking it into the water below. Everything had worked out, there was much to be satisfied about, and yet…

He wanted more.

There was a young, untaught Dragon sitting in the room he’d left, so uncertain of his own heritage that the idea of hoarding people had startled him. He wanted to curl his wings around Uryuu and shelter the boy until he’d caught up with everything he should know. He wanted to draw the boy’s hoard under his wings as well, wanted to shelter and guard and guide the way he’d always done with his own Clan.

(He was not meant for a solitary life and he knew it.)

(That he’d forced himself to continue in that manner for decades had only made his longing greater.)

Erich rustled his wings and sighed, missing his mate and her powerful presence. He’d rest easier with her sleeping at his side, would know better if his desire to cling was a product of his loneliness or an honest desire to help, but… he’d not found her in all the years he’d wandered the Rukongai. Wherever she was, it was beyond his wanderings and his limited information network.

Which meant he needed to take a step back and set aside his emotions. Decisions made in haste led to where he currently was, neck-deep in Shinigami and surrounded by children he wanted to protect. Decisions made in haste led to harming his allies and driving them into shell shock without meaning to.

He needed to focus. Needed to remember his military training and rein in his instincts.

Soft steps drew his attention outward, and Erich arched his neck and tipped his head to peer in the direction of the sound. He didn’t recognize the person’s scent, but there were enough traces of Uryuu’s fading power lingering around the other that Erich was certain they weren’t a threat.

“Am I disturbing you?” Kurosaki Ichigo asked when Erich’s gaze landed on him.

“Nothing that I cannot contemplate another time,” Erich answered as he straightened up and turned to face Kurosaki directly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Kurosaki approached, a thoughtful look in his eye and his untrained spiritual power poking curiously at Erich. It didn’t seem to be a conscious action, but Erich had no doubt the teen was subconsciously relying on whatever he felt in response. He’d seen it time and time again in young Quincy that hadn’t begun serious training; the fact that a human teen was displaying the same indicators was strange but within the bounds of reason.

(Especially if he’d grown up around Uryuu.)

He let his control relax, lightly meshing the edges of their powers like Dragons always did when speaking face to face. If Kurosaki was going to approach him like a young Dragon would, then he’d respond as if he was facing a young Dragon.

The way Kurosaki settled in response, Erich suspected he was correct; either there was some Dragon in Kurosaki’s lineage or the teen had grown up taking his cues from Uryuu.

“You’re related to Ishida, aren’t you?” Kurosaki asked as he stopped at Erich’s side, certainty ringing through his power.

“I’m not certain how closely we are related, but… if you are asking if we’re both Quincy, the answer is yes.”

Kurosaki frowned, his power rippling with a confusing swirl of emotions as he considered that. None of it felt negative however, so Erich didn’t bother to dig deeper. “So… he can look like this, then?” he asked with a gesture at Erich.

Erich bobbed his head and let confidence settle into his spiritual power. “He’s of an age where he should be beginning his training to shapeshift, yes. Has he never informed you of this?”

“No. But… I’m not surprised. We haven’t known each other very long.” Kurosaki tapped a finger against the railing, power smoothing out as his emotions settled and he started to think instead of react. “I don’t think he has anyone to train him,” Kurosaki added without meeting Erich’s gaze, but the level of surety in his power was staggering.

He stilled, narrowing his eyes and staring down at Kurosaki. The thought had been in the back of his mind since he’d rescued Uryuu, but to hear someone who knew him confirm the idea…

It made him want to fix it.

“Maybe you should come back to the Living World with us when we go,” Kurosaki said, tone almost an afterthought but his spiritual power intent-determined-hopeful. “I know he’s proud of his heritage, and I’ve seen the way he acts around you. It’d be good for him. Well… that’s my thoughts on it, at least.” He pushed away from the railing and turned to go, waving over his shoulder at Erich as he wandered off. “I’m going back inside.”

Erich huffed in amused disbelief as Kurosaki rounded the corner; if that wasn’t a pointed request, he didn’t know what was.

It did at least solve his quandary, however. If he was invited back, he wasn’t imposing his presence on anyone against their will.

Whether the Shinigami let him return to the Living World was another matter entirely, but…

He could be convincing if he needed to be.