A one-shot written for a fic exchange on AO3.
The damned mage was talking again.
As if sensing the deep scowl directed at his back, the blond head bobbed, its owner turning to shoot him a disarming grin. He couldn't make heads nor tails of the string of fluid syllables coming out of Fay's mouth – he wouldn't be surprised to learn that the damned mage wasn't fully human, really, because surely no human voice box could make all these sounds – but he caught two syllables of his name somewhere in there, Kuro-something. Probably some infernal bastardisation of his actual name, as usual.
"What are you saying about me?" he growled.
Fay only beamed back at him, all cheerful smiles and oblivious naïveté, and patted his arm consolingly.
Kurogane had to strangle the brief urge to rip the blond's arm off. The only thing stopping him was the fact that they weren't alone, and that those strangers now clustered around them had been pointing weapons in their direction a mere day ago. Apparently, in a complete reversal from Yama, this time they all shared Fay's language instead of Kurogane's.
Somewhere, Hitsuzen must be laughing her head off at them.
He wasn't oblivious to the looks directed at him. People often forget that body language was just as valid a mode of communication as a spoken one, and just because he couldn't understand the actual words didn't mean he couldn't understand the sneering tone or the condescending looks.
It wasn't hard to figure out why they looked down upon him, either. These people used magic as easily and as freely as they breathed, be it to polish their blades or to guard against the temperamental weather.
Even now, as they sat around a roaring campfire cooking their food – lit by a snap of the fingers, naturally – each of them held their skinned rabbit in their bare hands, as if the blue flames licking against skin were mere illusions. Kurogane's face grew steadily darker as his own rabbit – strung upon a hastily-procured twig that was already smoking at the edges from the very real heat – flopped sadly, one side beginning to char while the other side was still raw.
Just as he was preparing to go hungry to bed, there was a rise in the general hubbub – which he hadn't been paying attention to, since he couldn't understand a word of it anyway – and then Fay snatched the rabbit from his hands and casually tossed it, stick and all, into the fire.
"Oy!"
Kurogane made an aborted motion towards the fire, very nearly burning his fingers before Fay elbowed him none-too-gently out of the way. The ninja clutched at his mid-section, snarling at the blond. Well, if Fay was going to steal his dinner – never mind that he probably wasn't going to eat it in the first place – then he would steal the mage's right back.
He looked up, and stopped short.
His rabbit was floating in the fire, the last bit of twig stuck through it crumbling away. It made a complicated little weaving twirl, fiery sparks and the remnants of ashes trailing after it like glitter, and then began doing some sort of energetic tap-dance together with what was presumably Fay's own rabbit.
Fai gestured, flicking one open palm upwards with a rotation of his wrist, and the fire leapt impossibly high into the air, cascading over the prancing rabbits in a shower of fireworks.
One of the rabbits made an almighty leap and landed on Kurogane's head. The other hopped neatly into Fay's open palm, and the mage took a little bow as the applause started and he was bombarded from all sides with questions in that strange musical tongue.
Unnoticed in the general clamour, Kurogane quietly retrieved the rabbit from atop his head and took a bite. It was, he had to grudgingly admit in the privacy of his own mind, perfectly crispy on the outside and just the right shade of tender on the inside. Not that he would ever tell the mage that; Fay had enough of an ego as it were with all the cheering going on.
Kurogane poked the upright tent suspiciously. He wouldn't put it past the flimsy magical construct to collapse on them in the middle of the night.
"What kind of tent doesn't have any pegs or supporting rods?" he asked rhetorically.
Well, the damned mage and his newfound friends seemed to find nothing odd about these tents, and it was either take his chances with the fickle weather, or duck into a waterproof – he hoped – tent. Hoping that he wouldn't come to regret his decision, Kurogane tugged the door flap open and stuck his head into the tent.
And paused, and put his head out, and then put it back in again.
Fay was perched cross-legged on one of the bedrolls in the corner, and the blond sent him a beatific smile as he stomped – stomped! – in.
"Magic," Kurogane grumbled sullenly, swinging Ginryū down from his back to check that yes, the ceiling was indeed much higher than the exterior had suggested. "This better not fold back on itself while we're still inside."
Fay's smile only widened, bordering on something much more real.
Kurogane growled. If he found out that the troublesome mage had a translation spell of some kind and could actually understand him all along, he would kill him.
But for now, there was something more pressing at hand. "It's been a month," he told the blond, even though he knew the other wouldn't understand him.
Fay tilted his head to the side, a quizzical smile passing over his face, and spread his hands in the universal sign for what?
Kurogane stuck out his right arm brusquely and clenched his hand into a fist. He tapped at the bulging vein, and stared pointedly at the blond. Fay's smile dimmed, but he looked more resigned than anything else. Although Fay's vast reserves of magic could keep his vampirism suppressed most of the time, he couldn't entirely eliminate something so deeply embedded in his molecular makeup.
Once, Fay had abstained for ten weeks, saying that he wanted to test a theory. Kurogane woke up one morning to find him collapsed in the bathroom, blood oozing out from every orifice in his body. In a blind panic, he had run for Mokona, who had called Black Mokona, who had torn apart the shop searching for an answer.
"Well, maybe you should put some of YOUR blood back in his body!" Watanuki had finally yelled back in response after Kurogane had growled at him one too many times.
It worked.
Kurogane had never let him go more than six weeks without blood again.
Fay had settled into a more comfortable position, long legs stretched out in front of him. His expression was still mulish, but at least he had stopped fighting Kurogane on the matter. Kurogane dropped down on his own bedroll next to the blond, and without ceremony sliced open the vein in his wrist and offered it up to the blond.
Fay gave a deep sigh, as though it was such a chore for him, and then his own arm came up to grip Kurogane's as he bent his head to lap up the trickle of blood. Already the tiny cut was closing, and Fay gave a full-body shudder as his fangs dropped involuntarily, the sharp canines easily keeping the wound open until he was done with a delicate swipe of his tongue.
"Kuro-sama," the mage said clearly, followed by a string of syllables that the ninja chose to interpret as an expression of gratitude. Otherwise he'd end up attacking Fay again, and the stupid tent with its stupid expansion magic would probably implode or something. And 'death by magic tent' would be a seriously idiotic way to go.
"That's what these people are after?"
By his hastily-schooled expression, Fay hadn't been expecting this either.
A virtual wave of wriggling brown furballs surged across the tilled fields, leaving behind a storm of trampled stems and mangled leaves in their wake.
All that magic at their fingertips, and these people couldn't handle a pest problem.
"Ow!"
As if hearing his irreverent thoughts, one of the little critters latched onto his leg. Those teeth were sharp, as Kurogane now discovered first-hand. All around them, their temporary travelling companions had scattered, shouting futilely at the tiny pests that parted with a ripple for the humans and reformed their ranks in their passing. Fay had the gall to laugh at him, a clear ringing sound that pierced the general uproar like a bell, until several of those little monsters went after him.
Kurogane grinned in savage satisfaction at the startled yelp as Fay was dragged under, and then unsheathed Ginryū.
"Hama Ryuojin!"
Fay came up spitting hairs out of his mouth, blue-white arcs of electricity dancing across his body as he shook off the last of the paralyzed little creatures clinging to him. He absently ducked under Kurogane's next swing, the powerful magical blast flowing around him like water, and swept an arm out imperiously. A gust of wind tore past, picking up in speed until all the little brown creatures were swept up in the slipstream, spinning round and round in the miniature tornado. Finally, with a casual wave, Fay dispelled his magic. They fell to the ground, stunned.
Kurogane shrugged and sheathed his katana again. He didn't really want to kill the little animals anyway.
"– loyal, and so much more than a mere manservant."
Only long experience kept Kurogane's shock off his face when Fay switched to fluent Japanese mid-sentence.
"And he's a pretty decent warrior to have at your back." Fay blinked innocently at the strangers he was talking to, and it took all of Kurogane's training not to burst out laughing at their discomfited expressions.
But first –
"Fay! Kurogane!"
Like the rabbit from the previous week, the shiro-manju made a giant leap for Kurogane's head, perching there like the demented talking plushie it was.
"About time," he growled, and tried not to enjoy the half-horrified, half-stunned look on Fay's face too much.
The damned mage had it coming, anyway.