The Beginning

It was easy to fall in love with Tomoyo-hime. She was delicate and beautiful and yet, awe-inspiring and extremely capable. But no matter the courtiers who fawned over her and the lords and princes of foreign lands who swooned at the mere sight of her… she would always remind me of my mother first.

Yes, the similarities were there – they were both miko, and they could be both gentle, delicate and yet hard and firm at the same time. And when Mother died, she was there, she looked upon me with compassion and that same compassion was in her eyes when I was lying on a bed, in Shirasaki Castle finally awaken from the nightmare that had changed my life forever. I lost all I loved and lived for, and in the midst of all that, I found her.

There was no doubt about it, she saved my life, and for that I would always be grateful. I would serve her until the end of my days, and nothing would stand in my way. I made a promise, and I intended to keep it.

I remember the moment I was sent off, Tomoyo-hime was firm. She stood her ground and consumed by anger and underneath it, a bewilderment at why I was being punished for something I saw as my duty, I was sent to the Dimensional Witch's shop.

A Fateful Meeting

And there I met him. I had not seen such a pale skinned man before, so pale and so thin that he almost looked like a devil with his yellow hair. He had those exaggerated gestures, to match his frilly white coat with all the strange fastenings all about it. I took an instant dislike to him, he seemed to be the opposite of everything I was. Especially since he said emphatically that he did not want to return home. What was wrong with this man? I was sure that was a man, although I suspected it was possible he was a woman.

He had a long and clumsy name – but I never did have to call him all of that. It was just 'Fye'. He, on the other hand, took a perverse pleasure in calling me cutesy nicknames which I felt degraded my ninja pride. And when he and Mokona, that white manjyu bun got together – it was hell.

But as time wore on, I discovered more facets to him – he was intelligent and capable of fighting. In fact, he was a pretty good fighter although his style differed greatly from mine. In the nights, when Syaoran had gone to be with Sakura, we used to talk. About what, you ask? The events of the day, mostly. Sometimes about Sakura and Syaoran. I could see that he had a soft spot for both of them, especially Sakura. Come to think of it, he always liked pretty, cute girls. The same way Tomoyo-hime did.

Which reminds me – the mage always did remind me of Tomoyo-hime. They had the same gift of eternally exasperating me, annoying me. They were both quicksilver, mercurial, whimsical. And they were full of surprises. Especially Fye.

I was not much of a talker, but Fye was a surprisingly good listener especially in the nights when he seemed to quieten down. I found myself telling him about the things I missed about Japan, and the homesickness hit me especially hard when we were in Piffle Country and we met the Tomoyo of that world.

For what it's worth, I found myself missing the feeling of protecting her, slashing up the bad guys with Souma and the other ninjas and just being in Japan – the feel of the wind and the Castle standing in the middle of the city, so imposing. I missed home. I wanted to go back. But hell, we couldn't, unless we finished up this quest double quick and the manjyu bun could send me back or by some freak chance, we ended up in Japan, my Japan as I knew it, and I could go back to my old life.

Fye was understanding. I never felt as comfortable as I did then in those nights. He sat there like a cat, as comfortably and as gracefully and he would look at me seriously, quite unlike the day time, manic, restless and fidgety Fye. I relished those moments, and they seemed like something so far away from everyday reality especially since he irritated me a whole lot less at night, when we were by ourselves.

What are you hiding?

Even then, we never got around to talking about the past. Except that one time when I saw his eyes widen and his face turn an ashen white when the name 'Ashura-ou' was mentioned. I came to sense that Fye was hiding something, and that cheerfulness was just a mask. What was he hiding underneath? I wanted to know, because it ate away at him surely as a fire burns paper into nothing but ash. Mokona sensed it too, but how often did that mask slip? Almost never. But I did not press him further, because I was only met with that wall of silly nicknames and a wave of his slim fingers. I would not be waved away.

From the very beginning, he kept his distance – there seemed to be a bond between him and Syaoran and Sakura, but I saw through it enough to know that it was his way of keeping us all away from the real Fye: those jokes, those funny remarks, the smiles. The smile I came to hate for its insincerity and worse, for the fact it hid a person who refused to face up to his past and move forward into the future. How many times I wished I could shake some sense into him! If only it were that simple!

I knew I had begun to care for him, I could feel it – and he felt the same way. Only he knew of his feelings earlier, and made it a point of showing them in sensible and not-so-sensible ways. I deplored the cake incident most, but the cups of tea, the delicious breakfasts and bento he prepared (although he had too free a hand with sugar), the wounds he tended to and of course, his company at night … for those I was grateful, although I was careful not to show it because I knew he would pounce on it and turn it into something cute, girly and unbefitting of my status if he did know how I really felt.

We made a great team together. We had good timing and instinctively knew what needed to be done, thinking in tandem. And he was an amazing archer. I saw that in Yasha country for myself. His speed and accuracy were uncanny. And the bow and arrow suited him, for he had an equally sharp and precise mind, when he was not acting the fool. I respected that of him, at the very least. He was more than what he made himself out to be …

Then there came a point when I could not take it any more, the more I saw that smile, the more I wanted to punch it off his face, and those evasive and shifty answers only infuriated me. I demanded of him to decide, decide what needed to be done with what he had now.

I had a vague idea of some bad guys on the run after him, maybe this Ashura-ou person, but Fye obstinately refused to divulge any further details. Well, what could be worse? He should just despatch them and save himself the trouble. Maybe the story was more complicated than that, but hell, if he wasn't going to tell me, then I was prepared to assume that things were simple and thus, demanded a simple solution.

Anyway, as I told him, it had nothing to do with me. What I did not say (and hoped he would understand) was that we had faced so much together, and been through so much, I would face this with him, no matter what. And he did not get it. This was a man who had an amazingly complicated mind and perhaps an even more complex past which I was unable to comprehend.

From Death to Life

Anyway, as things transpired, Fye lost his left eye to the Syaoran clone. That is a moment I hope I never have to go through again in life. The horrifying sound of something wet being crunched up and seeing a Syaoran with a brown eye and a shining, bright blue eye while Fye lay unconscious with blood pouring out of his empty eye socket … I was filled with anger, a hot and blinding rage that enabled me to fling the clone against the wall and take Fye back. I had not felt as angry as I had then, only when Mother was killed by Fei Wong Reed in the inoriba.

All the while, I was hoping that Fye would recover, although I knew realistically his chances were slim and getting slimmer with each passing minute. His pale face became even paler and I was whispering prayers in my heart, urging him to keep hanging on. And for him to live. Because I could not imagine life without him, he was too much a part of mine, even the annoying parts of him … it's amazing how much becomes clearer in such moments of crisis…

At that point in time, I cared about nothing except saving his life, no matter how much it would cost and what it would take. My frustration raged and burned within me, how could he simply give up all hope and resign himself? So I could not help it when he wanted us to stop trying to save his life so much so that I yelled at him to shut up. Believe me, I would have killed him there and then if I did not truly believe there was something worth living for in his life yet. Wasn't I … his friend? And didn't we share something?

But as it was, he was able to be saved by Kamui's blood, as well as my own. The screams Fye gave were heartrending, almost inhuman, and he tore at my shirt in throes of agony and pain. And I was there, through each scream and shriek although it pained my own heart. I had seen much on the battlefield in Japan, but this must have been an even worse pain than any soldier I had seen suffer there.

I was to be his bait and he would drink my blood for survival, but only until we managed to find back his stolen eye from that clone. That damned witch had provided a way out after all. But still I was grateful. And mindful that Fye himself did not wish to live, and I was responsible for him continuing to live. I knew that there were consequences, unpleasant ones, but I was prepared for anything.

Yet, nothing really prepared me for the moment when after a vigil I kept over his unmoving body, Fye finally opened his eyes. I thought I caught a flicker of a cat's eye, rather like Kamui's, then the eye returned to the blue I had always known and he smiled at me, an empty, vacuous smile and greeted me with 'Good morning, Kurogane.'

I was taken aback. This was the second time that he had called me by my proper name, the first when we were at Yuko's shop at the very beginning. What could I say of the sharp and sudden pain that was like a knife twisting in my heart? No more nicknames, the one thing that had characterised the moments between us – and I knew that something had come to an end. He had not forgiven me. And there was a coldness in his tone, the way he said that he would not run away. I was not fooled by the smile.

Nevertheless I was glad he was better, and I told him not to move yet as I threw him a cloak. Now that he was all right, I wanted to give that Syaoran a cloak to protect himself from the acid rain, seeing that he stood outside, waiting, I suppose, for Sakura to come back.

Fye was angry, something I had never seen before, and he demanded to know why we (or rather, I) had allowed her to go out alone to get the price for the water. I explained in simple words the reason why - I had seen how determined she was, the spirit that had seemed to come from hidden depths inside her, and I knew she would succeed. And I had faith in her, and our promise to her. Fye was disbelieving. He was about to storm off angrily, and I for once, found myself at a loss, facing the one whose wishes I had expressly rejected, only able to utter the single word 'Wait.'

In the end, it was Syaoran's words and Sakura's return that stopped Fye from running into the darkness. I knew that Fye would never listen to what I said again.

Quo Vadis?

Fye looks at me with his cat's eye. It is somewhat discomfiting, but I am getting used to it. He has not given me any more trouble, I am still coming to terms with the vacuum that used to be filled up with those annoying and yet light-hearted moments, moments I took for granted.

He is alive, and dare I say it, more alive than he used to be? He is quieter these days, and I see a hardness in his eye. Almost as if his broken self has now been reshaped into something tougher. I see a spirit of determination and he speaks slowly now, carefully choosing his words which are often sharp, with an almost hidden edge (when addressed to me) and soft (when addressed to the princess). He is wary, almost too wary, and I remember the time I told him not to take the race at Piffle World so lightly and he only laughed. I have never heard that laugh since. I miss it.

There are times when I look at him, and I see the inklings of where he came from, now that his mask is half gone and with it, that smile. I have come to see a man who resorted to something desperate and dangerous. And yet was afraid to face consequences.

The days pass by quickly, we fight very hard and I notice that Fye no longer dodges but he attacks with a cold, calculated force that I admire. He may have lost his magic but he is still strong, very much so.

And the nights? We never talk anymore. He simply undresses, and he lies in bed silently. I have not heard him ask for blood, but I make sure he drinks, and always that same forced smile as he bends towards my cut wrist. He hates me with an unbending and slow-burning hatred, reflected fully in his yellow cat's eye.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring, he is not any closer to forgiving me than at that critical moment and he keeps his distance. But as I have always believed, where there is life, there is hope – hope which can only lead to a better and brighter tomorrow.

And someday he will understand that everything that happened, that I have done for him, that Sakura has done for him was for his good, and he will appreciate life to the full. And someday he will smile, with a sincerity that shines from within – no more empty and evasive smiles. I wait for that day.

Quo Vadis Latin for 'where do we go from here?'