one
The lights were on by the time he and Syaoran returned to the cafe, albeit turned down low. Both of them were dragging their steps, Kurogane rather less than Syaoran; the oni tonight had been middling, but there had been a great deal of them and weariness was present in both their movements. Syaoran had blocked a blow with an arm he was already starting to favor, the skin bruising dark and heavy, and he moved with the tired listlessness of the young, too stubborn to know his own limits. Kurogane held the door open for him, and he tripped on the threshold, which told Kurogane all he really needed to know.
"Kurogane-san," Syaoran started to say as he swung the door closed.
"You should go to bed," Kurogane said, curtly. "Don't let the princess see that bruise."
It was a testament to how far Syaoran had pushed himself that he merely nodded, and Kurogane allowed the corner of his mouth to curve up, a slash of a smile. "You didn't do badly today. Get some rest. More tomorrow."
"Okay," Syaoran said, with a faint smile, and Kurogane watched him head slowly up the stairs as he began pulling off his gloves. There had been a bottle of sake that looked quite tempting behind the bar before they'd set out, and he intended to try some before he took himself off to his futon. He himself had taken a shallow gash along the meat of his upper arm he'd concealed from Syaoran; it wasn't good for the student to realize the master could be wounded just yet.
He tossed his gloves onto the counter and leaned over the bar, looking for the telltale label. He found where the damnable mage had left the glasses fairly quickly, along with the other drinks, including one that contained a clear amber liquid that smelled like disinfectant when he undid the cork, but he couldn't see the sake, and he was moving some red wine bottles aside to check behind them when he heard footsteps on the stairs.
"Kid," he began to say, and then stopped. It didn't sound like Syaoran's step, and he pulled his head out from under the bar to see the mage standing on the stairs looking down at him, arms folded on the banister and his typically obfuscating smirk on his face. "It's you," Kurogane said, rather ungracefully.
"Yep," Fai said. He didn't sound as exuberant as usual, and his hair was mussed slightly, but his grin was lazy and self-satisfied. "Welcome back, Kuro-tan."
"Shut up," Kurogane growled, and deliberately turned his back on the mage to continue moving the bottles.
"Big doggy is so mean! He doesn't even appreciate the sake I left out for him and Syaoran-kun on the coffee table," Fai said, cheerfully, and Kurogane put the bottle of vodka in his hand back where he found it with a sigh.
"It's pronounced sake," he said, already heading for the little couch and the coffee table in front of it with, yes, a bottle of amazake and two cups lying next to it. The cups were those strange bulbous things made of glass with long stems the mage seemed used to, rather than traditional sake cups, but at this time of night he didn't really care.
The creak of the stairs announced Fai's final descent as he threw himself into the center of the couch and reached for the bottle, and the mage himself perched on the arm of the sofa nearest the stairs. "If Kuro-grumpy doesn't mind," Fai said, "since he's incapable of closing a door without waking people up, I'd like to try this type. It's the drink of Kuro-rin's home world, isn't it?"
"Kurogane," he corrected, and sloshed a generous measure of the liquid into a glass, which he handed to the mage without looking at him. Fai took it carefully, his long fingers brushing against Kurogane's for the merest fraction of a second. Kurogane filled the second glass, put the empty bottle on the table, and sat back with a sigh. The sake smelled wonderful, and when he took a sip it tasted wonderful too, sweet and right on his tongue. He drained his glass far too quickly for good manners, but when he looked over at Fai the mage was sniffing the contents of the glass with a somewhat uncertain look on his face. "Just drink it. It won't magically turn into something else if you look at it long enough," he said gruffly, and Fai smiled his idiotic smile, shrugged, and tipped it back.
"Sweet," he mused, and then, grinning, "I like it."
"Figured you would. It's not very strong. Need another?" The bottle probably ought to be drunk one way or another, and he could do with a few more glasses; his muscles were full of complaints for the frantic ducking and dodging he'd been doing only a half hour ago.
Fai licked his lips and held out his glass with a toothy smile, and Kurogane went to take it. As he did his sleeve moved, and matted to the cut in his forearm as it was, it opened the wound again; he couldn't entirely suppress the wince. "Kuro-puppy is hurt," Fai remarked, as though he were commenting on the weather.
"It's a scratch," Kurogane said. "It's nothing. Did you see Syaoran?"
"Yes."
"We're taking down bigger ones every night. They just keep coming, and nobody can say from where. Did you hear anything?"
"Not today," Fai said. He sighed, and shifted off the arm of the sofa until he was sharing it with Kurogane. He was skinny enough that even though Kurogane was sat in the very middle, he still had room to fit in. "Let me see," he said, and though Kurogane made a noise of protest, his blue eyes held a cool look that meant Kurogane didn't stop him from rolling up his sleeve with firm, fast fingers.
The cut was long and shallow, on the underside of his upper arm where it was hard for Kurogane to see it. It had mostly scabbed over, he could tell by the lack of wet blood against his skin, but when Fai pushed his arm around into the light Kurogane could see the scab contained threads from his sleeve, black fluff embedded in the injury itself. Fai didn't say a word, just got up and went to the bar, returning with a towel and a small bowl of water, and dropped to his knees on the carpet next to the sofa. "Syaoran-kun will not be able to hide that bruise from Sakura-chan," Fai said, mildly, as he dipped the cloth into the water. "She will be upset to see it. And, I think, if she were to see big doggy with injuries too..."
"She won't," Kurogane growled as Fai pressed the cloth against his arm, sponging the injury clean with surprisingly deft, competent hands. In the dim half light Fai had to dip his head close to Kurogane's arm to see the wound, and as the excess water ran from the bathing site, goose-bumping his skin, Kurogane realized that he could feel the light, ticklish sweep of the mage's hair. The foolish friendly smile had faded from Fai's expression; he looked focused, intent, and his ministrations were gentle but firm.
They were close enough that the exhale of Kurogane's breath stirred the strands of hair hanging down the front of his face, and when Kurogane realized that he tried not to breath out. It had to be gross, having someone's damp breath in your face. Fai frowned, slightly, his eyebrows drawing together, and then he smiled and sat back on his heels.
"Done," Fai said, putting the cloth back in the bowl. It released a surprisingly bright cloud of swirling red blood, and the water as a whole was pink within seconds.
"... Thanks," Kurogane said, reluctantly. Something about Fai being so close unnerved him, although he couldn't put his finger quite on the reason why. Fai looked at him for a second, just a second, and Kurogane thought the mage looked as rattled as Kurogane felt before his face rearranged itself in his insipid, false smile.
"Big doggy is welcome!" Fai said, and Kurogane groaned.
"I'm going to bed," he said standing up, the amazake forgotten; and Fai grinned and waved, his features so airy and light that Kurogane could almost have imagined the expression he'd been wearing just then, the shadowed look of someone who had known loss and mourning.
Whatever, he thought. If the mage was keeping secrets it was hardly a concern of his. He turned and headed up the stairs without looking back.