Erich pauses at the base of the stairs leading up to the ruin and takes a deep breath, letting his bayonet fade away as he prepares to ascend; it’s only been a few days since he was last here, but even now he can tell that there still aren’t any Lost in the area. And the odd weight to the air is back, which he suspects means the man is present, perhaps even watching them from some unseen perch.

“Is this truly a wise decision?” Io asks as she looks around and then tilts her head up to stare at the path. “There is something… strange about this place that I’m not certain I trust.”

“He didn’t seem inclined to hurt me last time, and he chose to run instead of fight when Yakumo startled him,” Erich says with a shrug.

Io gives him a considering look, then hums softly as she turns away and hops up onto a pile of rubble near the base of the stairs. “If you need me, call, and I will come,” she tells him firmly, planting the butt of her great halberd in the ground by her feet and leaning on it slightly.

“I will,” Erich says with a nod, then starts up the stairs, leaving her behind to wait.

Nothing’s really changed that he can tell; the broken stairs are still littered with odd, toppled logs, the shattered doorway is just as intact as it was a few days ago, and the ruined interior is still, well… ruined. Not that he really expected anything to have changed, but it almost feels like… like walking right back into a dream, for some reason.

Which might have something to do with the weird weight he can feel pressing down on him, he decides after a moment’s examination of the ruined room. It’s not a physical weight, for all that it feels sort of like it, but he really can’t put a name to it; whatever it is, it makes everything feel just a touch dreamlike, a touch unreal—

(Almost like the weight of all the relics, the weight of being Queen—)

“You’re back,” a familiar voice says, something like surprise threading through the quiet tones.

Erich turns and then looks up, to where the unknown man is sitting atop one of the more intact pieces of wall. “I am,” he agrees with a nod. “If you’d rather I go and never return, I will, but I, ah… accidentally walked off with this last time, and I wanted to return it,” he says as he pulls the man’s hat from his largest equipment pouch and holds it out.

The man stares down at him, fiddling with the— the cane he carries, then grimaces and looks away. “Thanks,” he murmurs, “I do appreciate you returning it.”

Erich watches him thoughtfully, observing the man’s rounded shoulders and tense posture, then takes a few steps closer and hangs the hang from the point of a jagged bit of rubble. “Do you want me to leave, now?”

“If… if you want to leave, by all means, do so,” the man tells him, still not meeting his gaze.

“That’s not what I asked,” Erich points out as he crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes; the evasion is certainly telling in terms of what the man truly thinks, even with all his missing memories and the social cues with it, but he needs confirmation. “I asked if you wanted me to leave.”

The man tenses and turns towards him enough to glare. “Why would you even care,” he hisses, one hand tightening on the handle of his cane and the other gripping the cane itself. “You don’t know me! You told me that you’re not Rerugen-san! Why do you care about a stranger?!”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Erich tilts his head and squares his shoulders, meeting the man’s glare with a steady look of his own, silently challenging the man to give him a straight answer. “Is there some rule out there that says I cannot?”

“Well… well no, I suppose there isn’t—”

“Then why can’t I care about the person in front of me who’s clearly alone and hurting?” Erich asks, arching an eyebrow as he does. The way the man swallows and looks away is not exactly promising, but he refuses to back down now, so he adds, “Louis and Yakumo taught me that the best thing we can do is offer help to others, because the only way any of us are going to survive is if we work together. No one should be on their own.”

“Maa, always so stubborn,” the man murmurs, freeing one hand from his cane and running it down his face as he does. “Very well, Reru— ah… sorry. What should I call you?”

“Erich.” He pauses for a moment to watch the little twitch the man makes at that, then asks, “Was that…?”

“That was always your given name, yes,” the man answers with a nod, then takes a steadying breath and says, “I suppose you can call me Kisuke, then.”

Erich narrows his eyes at the man — at Kisuke — and takes in his stiff, awkward posture. “If you’re offering your given name because that’s the only name I have left and not because it’s what you’re comfortable with, don’t. I’m not offended if you’d prefer to be called by your family name.”

Kisuke gives a short, brittle laugh and runs his hand through his scraggly hair. “No, no it’s… it’s fine. You might as well. There’s… not much point in formality anymore is there, given, well… everything.”

“There is if it makes you comfortable, Kisuke,” Erich retorts, then purses his lips at Kisuke’s shiver. “If you don’t want me to—”

“It’s fine,” Kisuke snaps, only to immediately wince and rub at the back of his head. “Sorry, sorry… just… it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Which is a lie if Erich’s ever heard one; there’s something about being called Kisuke that bothers the man, but since he seems intent on sticking to it and not providing an alternative, there’s little that Erich can do about it. Best to just leave it be, he supposes, and hope that things sort themselves out in time.

So instead of pushing further, he simply sighs and says, “Very well,” before pausing to consider his next words; he wants to ask Kisuke to return home with him, but he’s not entirely certain that Kisuke will react well to it.

(Given the way Kisuke reacts to even the faintest evidence of care, Erich feels justified in his caution.)

(But still, he doesn’t just want to leave the man out here.)

(So how to ask?)

“You might as well just say whatever it is you’re chewing on,” Kisuke says while slumping forward and bracing his arms across his knees, hands fidgeting with his cane and head tilted so that it looks like he’s focusing downwards.

(He isn’t, of course.)

(Erich can feel the weight of Kisuke’s gaze on him.)

(But if the man wants to pretend, so be it.)

Erich purses his lips and shifts his stance, fingers of his right hand tapping absently against his left arm as he considers his options. “You’re alone out here, aren’t you,” he settles on after a moment’s thought.

“Maa, that’s a bit of an assumption, isn’t it,” Kisuke says, clearly aiming for ‘cheerful’ and instead landing somewhere around ‘uncomfortable’. And when Erich just arches an eyebrow and stares up at him, Kisuke winces and grumbles, “I don’t see why it matters. I’m not… whatever it is you are. It’s not exactly hard for me to live out here on my own.”

“Maybe not,” Erich concedes, because this area is the safest he’s ever seen outside of the shelters or home base, and if that’s a result of Kisuke’s efforts then it is an impressive accomplishment—

(Could he help with the Horrors beyond the barrier?)

(Could he help them actually start to win back the world?)

(…no, best not to get his hopes up…)

—but it doesn’t change the fact that Kisuke’s still alone. “Maybe it isn’t hard for you, physically, but humans need more than just physical safety to thrive,” Erich continues once he’s pulled his thoughts back in order. Kisuke’s sharp, sharp gaze tells him the man caught his distraction, but since Kisuke doesn’t seem inclined to ask, Erich’s not going to give voice to those stray thoughts. Not yet, at least.

“I’m not exactly human,” Kisuke says with a huff. “I’m fine.”

Erich snorts at that and takes a step closer, eyeing the potential routes up to where Kisuke’s sitting. “You’re human enough,” he points out as he carefully switches which Gifts are closest to the surface of his Self and therefore easier to access. “You leaned into my presence last time. Can you tell me, without lying, that you wouldn’t do the same this time?”

Kisuke scowls down at him. “Just because I was shocked by your presence—”

“That was more than shock, Kisuke,” Erich interrupts, giving Kisuke a scowl of his own, even if his mask hides all of it except the narrowing of his eyes and furrow of his brow. “That was touch hunger. I would know.”

“So what if it was?! I’m a stranger to you! Why do you even care?!”

“I don’t need to know you in order to care!” Erich snaps back, even as he quietly activates a few Gifts to boost his capabilities just in case. “We didn’t know Mia when we brought her back home with us! Eva was practically our enemy when she stumbled into the base and asked for help, and we gave it! Jack actively threatened us several times and we still teamed up with him when needed and then welcomed him into our group! Why would we treat you any differently?!”

Kisuke stills at his words, staring down at him with an unreadable expression. “That’s different,” he forces out after a moment, knuckles once more turning white as his grip tightens around his cane. “That’s— it’s different. I’m not like you—”

“No one is like me,” Erich grumbles, cutting Kisuke off before he can babble something absurd about ‘not being human’ or something to that effect; it’s pretty obvious that the man isn’t a regular human, and the lack of mask makes it clear he’s also not a revenant, but frankly Erich doesn’t give a damn.

“Yes, I know, revenants have unique ability sets, and your lack of memories probably contributes to the difference—”

“No.” Erich heaves a sigh and runs his gauntleted right hand through his hair, wondering if he’s really about to tell the man about everything, but… it’s really not much of a secret at this point, is it? At least, not to everyone at home or to many of the surviving members of Cerberus. Still, he never actually told any of them, so it feels… strange to be considering it right now.

(But why shouldn’t he?)

(Kisuke will find out at some point, so why not just… tell him?)

Kisuke narrows his eyes and sweeps his gaze over Erich, clearly cataloging everything he can see in an effort to figure out what Erich means. “No?” he asks warily, leaning forward a bit on his perch, sandaled feet bracing against the wall as he does. “No what?”

“My original blood code broke,” Erich starts with, then hastily clarifies when Kisuke’s expression shades towards ‘puzzled’, “A blood code is a revenant’s, well… existence, really. It’s what gives us life, and our unique skills, and what keeps us alive. To say mine ‘broke’ means I don’t have any innate skills anymore, nor should I be as stable as I am. Instead, I can gain the skills of other revenants if I drink their blood or absorb a vestige from them, and I suspect my lack of memories is a result of the breaking.”

Erich takes a breath and runs his hand through his hair again, forcing himself to remain steady as he says, “I’m the only Void Type known to have survived longer than a single battle, the only revenant capable of reviving mistle or blood trees, and it’s only because of Io and Louis and Yakumo and everyone else that I escaped becoming just another Queen out to destroy our current, fragile situation. My blood—” he lifts his left hand and uses the sharp point of his right hand gauntlet to cut the pad of one finger, violet blood immediately welling up— “My blood is no longer red. It’s likely that anyone who consumes it, accidentally or not, will swiftly frenzy, just like what used to happen with the Queen.”

He starts as Kisuke vanishes from atop the wall and suddenly appears right next to him, cane tucked under one arm and both hands gripping Erich’s bleeding left in a gentle but firm grip.

“What in the world…?” Kisuke breathes softly as he lifts Erich’s hand closer to his face. “How…?”

Erich shrugs awkwardly as he eyes Kisuke, not entirely certain how to handle the man’s sudden approach and concern; he’d wanted Kisuke to listen, to not run, but he… he really didn’t expect this. “During Operation Queenslayer, I took a wound that clipped my heart,” he says as he tries not to pull his bloodied hand from Kisuke’s grip. “Soon after, I was assigned to Jack’s squad in order to approach the Queen and attempt to take her out. During the battle, my mask was knocked off my face, I started to frenzy, stabbed the Queen and drank her blood, really started to frenzy, and was then shot in the heart in order to prevent another Queen from being created.”

Kisuke’s hands tighten around Erich’s and he looks up to meet Erich’s gaze, pale eyes bright with concern and skin almost ashen as a soft, “What?” slips out.

“I lived,” Erich points out, arching an eyebrow as he does. He’s… probably miscalculated this conversation. Badly miscalculated this conversation. He kept these memories from everyone else for… a long time, really, and he… he probably shouldn’t have mentioned it to Kisuke, who used to know him — used to care about him? — especially when he knows how Louis and Yakumo took the revelation when they woke him from his nightmares and coaxed him into talking.

The soft, wounded noise Kisuke makes is evidence enough that Erich’s definitely miscalculated this conversation, and he scrambles for something — anything — to distract the man with; he doesn’t even know if Kisuke knew him after he became a revenant and Operation Queenslayer — and his subsequent years-long revival — was when the man lost track of him, or if the man lost track of him before that point.

(He doesn’t even know if it matters, either.)

(…nor does he know how to ask.)

(Ugh.)

“On the bright side, we’re all pretty sure I can’t permanently die at this point?” Erich tries for, a lopsided smile hidden beneath his mask. “Being… practically the Queen, and all.”

“That’s not exactly any better,” Kisuke huffs as he turns his attention back to Erich’s hand and the violet blood staining the tip of one finger. “I remember the first Queen—”

“Cruz’s fate won’t happen to me,” Erich promises as he lets his veil fade away and slowly turns his body to face Kisuke, hoping that the removal of his armor will put the man a bit more at ease. “Io and I have somehow… split the burden of being Queen between us, and while I’m still the Successor of the Blood, there are no other relics — no other pieces of the old Queen — left.” He suppresses a shiver at the piercing look Kisuke gives him in response, then swallows and adds, “Karen and Aurora believe that me being a Void Type prevents a lot of the issues that Cruz suffered when she was alive. And beyond an increased requirement for blood beads, there’s been essentially no change in my day to day life.”

Kisuke grimaces, glances once more at Erich’s hand, then slowly lets go and takes a step back. “I suppose you’d know best…” he murmurs as he looks away.

“If you’re worried, why not come back with me?” Erich offers again, hoping that this will convince the man, since appeals to Kisuke’s wellbeing didn’t seem to be working. “You can speak with Karen and Aurora about Project QUEEN and about all of, well, this,” he adds as he rubs his thumb against his bloodied fingertip to remove most of the blood from it.

“Your efforts to get me to follow you home are not exactly subtle,” Kisuke grouses, head slanted to give Erich a sidelong look.

“But you’re considering it now,” Erich can’t help but point out, wisps of amusement fluttering in his chest at the look Kisuke’s giving him.

Kisuke sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m considering it,” he agrees with a huff. “I might not stay, but…”

Erich takes care to keep the curl of satisfaction in his chest from showing on his face, even as he nods in agreement and says, “That’s fine. We have a room that you can use if you’d like to spend the night, but there’s no expectation that you stay. Just know that you’ll always be welcome to drop in.”

A temporary stay isn’t how he wants this to end up, but it’s a step in the right direction. At least Kisuke will know where they are if he ever needs help, which could save the man’s life if things go wrong.

(At least they’ll know that they’ve tried…)

Kisuke’s expression shades towards ‘puzzled’ again as he eyes Erich, before he shakes his head and turns away, reaching out with his cane to hook his hat off the bit of rubble and bring it closer. “Well then, I suppose we should get moving, hmm?” he says as he sets his hat back on his head and gestures for Erich to lead the way.

“My partner Io is waiting for us at the base of the stairs,” Erich warns as he begins to make his way back to the ruined doorway. “She’s curious to meet you.”

“Partner?” Kisuke asks, his tone light but his knuckles turning white as he grips his cane tighter once again. “Are you…?”

Erich tries to figure out what Kisuke’s trying to ask, then gives it up with a shrug; there’s probably some nuance or societal expectation associated with ‘partner’ that he’s missing still, given how many ways the word can be used, but it’s not worth the effort to try and guess, in his opinion. Best to just state what he means and leave it at that. “She’s who I came out here with this time. It’s best to never travel alone, especially for revenants,” he explains as they descend the steps, taking note of the way Kisuke’s grip relaxes at his words but entirely uncertain as to why.

(Maybe he’ll ask Yakumo later.)

(He’s certainly not going to ask Kisuke about it, after all!)

“Ah,” Kisuke breathes out. “I see. I suppose that makes sense, given the dangers. But if I may ask… why especially for revenants? You can revive, unlike humans, so…”

“Revival can take time, and comes with the risk of losing our memories,” Erich pointedly reminds the man, his lips twitching slightly at the sheepish look he gets in response. “If we’ve consciously partnered with at least one other revenant and one of us falls, the other can send some of their life force to get the fallen revenant back on their feet before they disperse,” he explains as they descend the last few steps and reach Io at last.

“Unless the fallen revenant has literally fallen,” Io says with a touch of exasperation before Kisuke can say anything himself. “That makes things… difficult,” she adds as she hops off the rubble and settles her large halberd over her shoulder, giving Kisuke a once over as she does.

“I sense a story,” Kisuke murmurs, gaze slanting towards Erich.

Erich rolls his eyes. “Fall off a cliff one or two times—”

“Dozen times,” Io cuts in with a huff.

“—a few times,” Erich repeats slightly louder, ignoring Io even as amusement bubbles in his chest at the familiar ribbing, “and you’ll never live to hear the end of the comments again.”

Kisuke makes a strangled noise that Erich can’t parse, then takes a deep breath and tugs at the brim of his hat as he asks, “A common event, I take it?”

“Eh, somewhat?” Erich answers with a small wiggle of his left hand, pleased at being able to use the gesture Yakumo taught him. “Honestly less than the others make it sound, but it’s become a running joke between them, especially after Jack showed up and shared that I’d apparently always been like that, as far he can recall.” He absently adjusts his mask as he considers what else to say, then settles on, “Edges don’t really… register in my mind, for some reason? And there’s always this… odd niggle of instinct that says they shouldn’t matter, not that any of us can figure out why— we’d initially considered it being a result of, well, drinking the Queen’s blood, because she could levitate and I’ve never quite figured out how, but Jack’s stories put an end to that idea, so it really is an unknown.”

“I… see,” Kisuke says, the strangest look on his face that Erich’s ever seen anyone make, almost like he wants to say something, doesn’t want to say something, and is also doubting himself at the same time. “That’s certainly odd.”

Erich and Io exchange glances, Io’s voice whispering through his mind as she says, ::Perhaps it’s something from when you were alive, then?::

::But humans don’t have Gifts like revenants do? Why would my human self not acknowledge something that could kill him easily? Especially to the point that it’s instinct?:: Erich can’t help but ask her in return.

Io just shrugs, as puzzled as he is about the whole situation, before turning her attention back to Kisuke — who’s watching the two of them with narrowed eyes — and redirecting the conversation by asking, “Are you returning home with us?”

“Maa, with Erich asking so politely, how could I not?” Kisuke replies breezily, only the slight strain to his smile giving lie to his pretense.

Io considers the man for a moment longer then nods and turning away. “Then we should begin moving before dusk starts to fall. It’s a bit of a hike.”

Erich shoots her a confused look — there’s a mistle plant not that far away — before her meaning abruptly hits him: Kisuke isn’t a revenant. Which means he can’t use the mistle.

Which means they need to walk him back to the old church that has become their home.

Which… isn’t a problem, exactly, because they both know the way back, but it’s going to be a slog. And they’re going to have to be more careful than usual, since they’re escorting Kisuke.

“Ah, I do know my way around combat,” Kisuke offers, his pale eyes darting between the two of them. “So there’s no need to worry about me. If… if that’s what you’re doing. Uh… sorry, I… shouldn’t be assuming…”

Io gives Kisuke a small, warm smile and says, “It’s more that Erich forgot we can’t use the mistle to return home, since you can’t use it, so now he feels awkward for overlooking that in his haste.”

Erich huffs and pointedly summons his veil and bayonet back to hand, though he can’t deny that overlooking such an obvious thing — he’d commented on Kisuke not being a revenant several times! Why had he forgotten that meant the man couldn’t use the mistle? — makes him feel unbalanced in all the worst ways.

Kisuke makes a soft, amused noise and tugs at the brim of his ridiculous hat as he focuses on the ground for a moment. “I see, I see,” he murmurs at last, gaze darting up to meet Erich’s, some emotion glimmering in his expression that Erich can’t quite place. “Well, I won’t complain about the hike, if that helps at all?” he adds with a tiny smile.

“Let’s get moving,” Erich grumbles, ignoring the rippling curl of warm amusement swirling in his chest as best he can and stepping past both Kisuke and Io to begin leading the way. “We’ll probably have to spend a night out here, so I hope you don’t mind camping rough.”

“Maa, I assure you, wherever we stop, I have undoubtedly rested in worse places,” Kisuke replies as he trails after Erich, hands fidgeting with his cane as he does.

Erich gives the man a sidelong look, then hums softly and turns his eyes back to the path ahead of them, uncertain how to react to such a statement; while the man is likely talking about his life after the Horrors arrived and the world fell apart, there’s a chance that he… isn’t. That back when Rerugen was alive, back when they were something-maybe-like-friends, Kisuke was dealing with conditions that make today’s situation seem… easy? Better? Kinder? In comparison.

(He really doesn’t want to think about that too hard.)

(There’s nothing he can do about it, but still…)

(He wants… he wants—)

(…he doesn’t know…)

Erich takes a calming breath and adjusts his grip on his bayonet.

Whatever Kisuke went through in the past, Erich will do his best to make sure his future is better-kinder-happier.

Whatever it takes.

He swears it.