(I'm not entirely satisfied with how this came out, but I wrote it sort of on a dare and in fifteen minutes. XD So, take with a grain of salt…)

"…You're going to have to tell me why you do all this," Fai says at some point. Quietly, mind. Far be it from him to make an actual demand. Still, it's…abrupt.

Kurogane glances up. "All what?"

"This?"

"…what?"

"What happened to that perception? Kurogane." And now it's time for that amusement-that-isn't. It makes Kurogane feel a little sick. "You know what I'm talking about, right? Why you…" A shrug. "Do this. For my sake. Go out of your way to…for my sake, Kurogane, that's ridiculous. I can't stop you, but…"

--Kurogane's eyes darken. "Watch it. I'll hit you again."

Soft laughter. "Maybe you should?"

"Would it work?"

"…Why do you care?"

"…You want me to answer that?" says Kurogane.

Fai nods. His eyes—eye glints in the dark, with…something.

"Because I like you."

--and widens considerably.

"—What?"

"I like you," Kurogane repeats, flatly. "I don't like a lot of people. I respect you. And I'd trust you with anything, except your own life. Got it?"

…Fai's staring at Kurogane one moment and past him the next, seeing an unpleasant sight indeed from how pale he's gone; how strange and strained his expression is.

"You can't mean—"

"Yes I can," says Kurogane.

"…You…"

"Doesn't mean I can do a damned thing about that. Except 'this'. "

"…right," says Fai weakly. "Well, that's torn it."

"Sorry you asked?"

Fai nods again, with a barely audible "Yes."

"That makes two of us."

"…sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"S--…fine."

"…Let's say for now," says Kurogane, with characteristic pragmatism, "that this conversation didn't happen." –and that's that.

Well, except.

About two minutes later Fai speaks again—again, quietly; again, all innocuous.

"You know…"

"What?" –his voice muffled; he's facing the other direction.

"…"

"…what?"

"—I like you, too," is the murmured reply, "Kuro-chan," and the spark of mischeviousness—slight, almost invisible—is what makes the whole sentence; what sticks in midair.

Tomorrow is going to be something else.