Kai curses sharply as his fool of a Clan head passes out in Ilsa’s arms, going just as limp and unresponsive as the damn Shinigami laid out on Erich’s damn dining room table. He rinses his hands off in a fresh bowl of water and stalks over, already probing at Erich’s powers with his own; if that damn Shinigami brought something in— if he clipped Erich with something that he didn’t notice because of how damn sleep deprived he is—

Except all he can sense in the usual weight of exhaustion-restlessness-memories, mixed with adrenaline and shock. Even pressing a healing spell deep into Erich’s body doesn’t reveal anything else, which is both relieving and endlessly frustrating at the same time.

His damn-fool Clan head simply reached his limit and passed out.

“He alright?” Ilsa asks quietly as she shifts Erich’s body into a bit more comfortable grip.

“He will be if he would sleep for once in his damn life,” Kai grumbles as he switches spells, weaving calm-sleep-peace into Erich’s mind in order to keep the man asleep for at least a few hours. He wishes Erich would let him do that every night — or at least every other night — but he knows how Erich dislikes the way it makes his head muzzy and his body heavy.

(Side effects that would mostly go away if the man would just let his body catch up on the sleep it needs.)

(Not that Erich ever believes him on that score, the bastard.)

Kai shakes his head and turns back to their other problem with a scowl. “Right then, lets see what shocked him,” he declares as he steps closer and carefully lifts the Shinigami’s left arm and turns it. He has his suspicions, but—

But seeing Erich’s handwriting down the Shinigami’s inner arm is still weird, still hard to believe, even when he rubs his thumb over the graceful, clean letters and feels nothing but skin. The letters don’t smudge or blur or feel in any way different from the skin around them, and when he pokes them with his powers, he catches a trace of Erich lingering within.

The marks are real, then.

Unfortunately.

“Wonderful,” Ilsa declares over his shoulder, her voice dust dry. “Just what we needed during our unspoken truce: a Shinigami as our Clan Head’s soulmate.”

Kai sighs and sets the man’s arm back down. “Nothing to be done about it. Erich took the man into his home without coercion and then called me to heal him, so heal him I will. Where we go from there is… something we can decide later.”

“You know he’s not going to turn the man away once he wraps his head around the idea,” Ilsa grumbles as she bends to scoop Erich into her arms.

Which is true, and Kai knows it well; Erich’s always been fascinated by the idea of soulmates, and Kai has more than once caught the man tracing the nigh-illegible words running down his right arm. The fact that his soulmate is a Shinigami is… it’s a blow, Kai suspects, but after a good rest and some time to make peace with the idea—

Well, he has a suspicion that Erich won’t let the opportunity escape him, even if it means personal discomfort.

(Sometimes Erich is far too practical for his own good.)

(He’ll see the opportunity to force an actual truce and he’ll take it without hesitation.)

He’s going to need to keep an closer eye on Erich from now on, Kai decides grimly. His Clan Head is already suffering from nightmares and the resulting insomnia; keeping a Shinigami in his home, even under the auspices of a soulmate bond, isn’t going to make that any better.

“I guess I’m putting our illustrious Clan head to bed, and then talking with Alexis,” Ilsa says into the silence. “Is there anything you want me to pick up before I get back?”

“No.” He has all he needs for this situation in his bag. The Shinigami is wounded badly but not critically, and his body reacts well to Kai’s healing spells; the only real concern is how drained the Shinigami’s powers are, but there’s nothing Kai can do about that without being a Shinigami himself.

(Or Erich.)

(Erich can probably refill the Shinigami’s reserves.)

(Between his natural skill at channeling power and being the Shinigami’s soulmate, Erich won’t have an issue, Kai is certain.)

(But he’s not about to wake the man just to test a theory when the Shinigami will be just fine until Erich wakes.)

Ilsa hums and turns away, her footsteps heavy as she crosses the dining room and heads down the hall, leaving Kai alone with the unconscious Shinigami.

He frowns down at the Shinigami and reaches out again to resume healing the man, starting with the wounds that Erich already cleaned off. The sheer amount of damage on the man is… concerning, especially the lack of any lingering signature.

(If this is the result of a rogue Quincy…)

(No, don’t borrow trouble just yet.)

(There’s no evidence either way.)

Kai lets his focus narrow down to the man in front of him. Lets his hands and his powers move through practiced motions: clean, sanitize, heal, move on. Clean, sanitize, heal, move on. And on and on and on until finally, finally nothing comes to his notice. Until he blinks away his single-minded focus and finally looks, taking in scarred-but-whole skin and limp hair and an unpained expression.

The man needs a real bath, but Kai’s not about to manhandle him any longer. Not on his own.

(Damn this Shinigami is heavy!)

(Quincy tend to be much slighter in build than this man is.)

And anyway, the man is clean enough that Kai doesn’t feel bad about dragging him into Erich’s guest room to sleep.

He hears the sound of the front door opening and lifts his head, sending a tendril of power out in question—

Ilsa’s power brushes against his own in welcome as she steps back into the dining room. “Done, love?” she asks as she takes in the room with a grimace, and adds, “This is going to be a pain to clean up.”

Kai glances around him and winces at the sight; between the spilled blood, the spilled water, the spilled bloody water, the man’s torn clothing, and the utter wreck Erich made of the room in the process of laying the man down, Ilsa is right. Even just basic cleanup is going to take time and effort that he’s not looking forward to.

“Right then,” Ilsa says firmly, stepping forward to the table and reaching out to get her arms under the man’s shoulders and knees. “First thing first— I’m going to drag this lump into the guest room and you’re going to dump all the water, fetch some towels, and pack your bag away. Then you’re going to crash on Erich’s couch and I’m going to finish cleaning up before joining you. Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Kai says in relief, feeling one of his warm-helpless-loving smiles forming at Ilsa’s declaration.

(He loves her so very, very much.)

(Especially at times like this.)

(She’s such a lifesaver.)

Ilsa chuckles and hefts the unconscious Shinigami as if he weighs nothing. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she promises as she turns to carry the man out of the room.

Kai takes a moment to watch her leave, breathing in the sight of her strong back and broad shoulders and—

He pinches himself. Shakes his head. Tears his gaze away and tries to focus—!

(The sooner he gets his tasks done, the sooner he can curl up with his beloved and go back to sleep.)

(Now that’s a plan he can get behind.)

(Time to get to work.)