"Many of us crucify ourselves between two thieves - regret for the past and fear of the future."
Why. That was the only word that ran through Fai's mind as they were absorbed by the force and sucked into another dimensional porthole. The blood was spiraling everywhere and Kurogane was on the edge of unconsciousness, and probably death. Fai could only wonder "why" over and over and over as he held the ninja so close and so tightly that it was a miracle he didn't suffocate. And as they land, Fai's sight was blurred worse with the onslaught of tears.
Even as an army practically charged toward them with no other purpose besides saving the ninja's life, Fai still couldn't stop crying, and that single word still ran around and around and around in his mind, echoing and intensifying with every passing round.
Why? Why in hell's name would Kurogane—who had everything to look forward to, everything in life, so full of vitality and potential—save a mage who's future prospects were death by isolation or more simply, just death. Why would he give up his arm—his sword-wielding arm, half of where his power sourced from—only to save an unworthy bastard of his immensely worthy fate? Why would anyone do that? Why wouldn't Kurogane just listen and shut the hell up and leave Fai? Why couldn't the ninja just mind his own business and appreciate what Fai had suffered through for him and mourn the mage's name in peace after his death?
As Fai was transported to Shirasagi Castle and led to the comforting dark of a bedroom, with soft candles and warm clothes and gentle washbasins, he found that he very well knew the reason why. But he couldn't bring himself to come up with it. There simply had to be another reason. It wasn't possible that the reason thrust into his mind was the actual one, because that was too farfetched and unbelievable and self-indulgent. It would be what Fai had always wanted to believe, but never could. It would be as if one of his self-lies had come true.
And they were never true.
Why would anyone in his sane mind—in a healthy mental state—still care (for Fai refused to think the awful L word) for a person after witnessing such a horrific, despicable past? Not that Kurogane wasn't considered insane, but really. Fai wanted so dearly to simply go on living his lie and pretend that Kurogane hated him, because it was so much easier than facing the truth. The terrifying, completely unreal, impossible, incomprehensible truth:
That Kurogane loved him.
Because no matter what Fai wanted to believe, the truth was much, much too clear. Kurogane loved him. Kurogane loved Fai in the purest, realest, most earnest sense. Kurogane loved Fai and everything the mage had been, was, and would ever be. Kurogane wouldn't care if Fai were a renegade, or the prince of a forgotten country, or some sort of foreign, diseased animal. Kurogane would love all the same and probably twice as much.
And for once, Fai didn't have to force the smile that graced his lips at that prospect—that Kurogane could love him like that, to that extent. He smiled to himself as he undressed and bathed and redressed. He smiled as he thought about the one thing he loved Kurogane for most of all. And he smiled as he walked down the hall, wondering what part of him Kurogane loved most. He smiled wider when he thought that there were parts of him that could be loved at all.
But Fai smiled the widest, the most beautiful, the most perfect, the most stunning and glorious and gorgeous and brilliant after his fist made contact with the side of Kuro-sama's head and the ninja grinned at him in return and spoke with such vigor and health that Fai wanted to cry more than smile. Or both.
It was a curious thing as Fai sat down on the cushion at the side of Kurogane's futon. Kurogane's remaining fist came down hard on the mage's forearm, causing Fai to wince slightly—still smiling. "And what was that for, Kuro-sama?"
"That," Kurogane growled, "was for thinking that your past would scare me off. It's flattering to know how that you think I'm such a priss."
"Now, Kuro-tan," Fai sighed, "when did I ever say that?"
Kurogane didn't scowl deeper; he merely shrugged, raising his eyebrows, and lay back on his pillows. His one arm bent around his head in a relaxed manner. "It was implied."
"Hmm." Fai tilted his head gracefully, the golden hair falling eerily around his eye patch. He regarded the empty sleeve, touching the cloth, careful not to put any pressure at all. "Does it hurt much?"
"Don't feel a thing," the ninja scoffed.
Fai smiled. "Really." His hand drifted to the inky strands that fell low on the tan forehead, running through them idly, vaguely—a mindless gesture, but a reassuring one. Kurogane's eyes closed slowly, his head leaning toward the touch, and his breath coming out softly.
"You're back to the nicknames," Kurogane observed, his eyes still closed.
"I suppose we are." Fai moved his fingers down to dance over the ninja's eyelids, and then back up to his hair. "Unless you rather I didn't?"
"They're annoying, but I can put up with them. I put up with you, don't I?" There was a low moan from the back of Kurogane's throat, causing another smile to flit across the mage's lips. His pale hand was already warmed from being against the taller man's throat.
"Put up with me?" Fai grinned. "That would imply that you'd rather I wasn't here." He removed his hand. "Is that better?"
Eyes still unopened, Kurogane's own hand shot out to catch Fai's midair. "That's cheating, mage, and you know it."
"You've never been one to play fair, either, Kuro-rinta." Fai twisted his hand around in Kurogane's so that their fingers were intertwined, and the mage was able to bring those callused fingers to his lips. Kurogane's eyelids lifted slowly, and the blood red spheres bore into the single sapphire.
"Which is better," Kurogane said, "To win cheating or to lose honorably?"
"Does it matter?" Fai smiled, placing the ninja's hand onto his own white cheek. Kurogane cupped the mage's face, brushing away the soft blond locks. "As long as we both choose the same—together—what we are choosing doesn't come into the equation at all."
"I ain't ever choosing death." Kurogane's thumb brushed across the smooth skin stretched over Fai's cheekbone.
"Then neither am I."
Fai never regrets that his brother wanted to save his life. Fai never regrets that his brother couldn't live with him. Fai never regrets being born a twin. Fai never regrets his attempt to save the clone. Fai never regrets Kurogane's decision to give his blood and his arm.
Fai doesn't fear the next world. Fai doesn't fear the end of this journey. Fai doesn't fear Fei Wong Reed and the battle that will inevitably happen. Fai doesn't fear losing. Fai doesn't fear the endangerment of his life and Kurogane's. Fai doesn't even fear losing Kurogane.
Why?
Because that's what Kurogane taught him—showed him.
Loved him.
That's why.