Pattern of Hitsuzen
This story exists for one reason only: 125 blew my mind. - Consequently, this is more a (spontaneous combustion of thoughts) longish drabble, than an actual fic. Don't expect too much and you won't be disappointed.
Coming to isn't that hard, this time around.
The pain has abated to a dull pounding in the back of his head and he can actually sense the healing magic as it restores what has been lost. Under the haze of impending death the injury hadn't quite seemed so grave, nor so terrible; but perhapsthe faulty assessment was due to shock. That half of his essence had been ripped away didn't register with him then.
Honestly, it all hadn't been that bad.
Dying back then had been a welcome option, and even logically, he'd deemed it best. Clone Syaoran would have lost the magic, making him a far less dangerous opponent – not some creature gone out of control.
Dubious, really, if this one would even listen to his maker, now. Because the clone without the original's heart but half his magic proved only that all best-laid plans had gone horribly, inevitablyawry like the road paved with good intentions usually leads to hell.
Perhaps he should have known; really, he should have.
Hitsuzen, fate or just general bad luck.
He hadn't meant to put Ashura-ou to sleep under the water either and then leave him there, preferably for eternity. Had never dreamed of such a thing coming to pass – had only acted with the best intentions in mind.
As Celes now lies in ruin and Syaoran bears a blue eye.
Well, he can always hope, like the original Syaoran did. Hope for the clone to grow a heart and … He doesn't really know what he hopes for exactly, but the heart seems a good enough place to start.
His mind is still so blurry and he find his lids too heavy to lift. Feels like sleeping in,however,not like dying, and he can't really decide whatto think of it.
The stage had been set so nicely. Shock numbed the pain enough and the feeling of death creeping closer with each passing second had lent him strength to open his eyes and speak. He'd just lifted his mask enough so that his true self could be glimpsed, and then apologized with an honest smile. Because, yes, he'd been actually happy then, happy that he could find his peace without having to deal with his past first, happy, because there'd been concern in Kurogane's eyes.
He'd felt warm, then. Warm and cared for and he didn't care that half of his magic just had been violently ripped away from him. This was all he'd ever wished for, somebody to hold him and honestly care.
Only this and nothing more.
But instead of mercifully dead he is alive and healing beyond doubt. Right now his senses are hazy and his memories inconsistent, though he recalls the sensation of blood trickling into his mouth quite clearly.
Very, very potent, vampire blood.
As of now, he can feel changes within himself. It's not only the healing properties he received, no, this blood carries a strange sort of raw magic of his own. Nothing like anything else he ever encountered, but he can tell it's powerful.
Kamui's power is fusing with his own magic and he isn't sure, how much of his original power will be regained once his injury has healed. He prays the left eye won't regain full strength, he'd rather have lost all – but he can tell this is another futile wish.
A lot of his wishes actually are.
Perhaps they'll land in Celes next, even though the thought of Ashura isn't quite that frightening anymore. Because after today he is far more powerful than the King of Celes will ever be. Hell, there are even some remnants of Clow Reed's and Fei Wang's magic left in him after taking Syaoran's heart onto himself for a couple of moments.
His magic is now as erratic and unpredictable as the clone's movements. Should he have a choice, he'll never utilize this ... monstrosity of power, but he fears this isn't his decision to make. A weary sigh, because, well, what else does he expect? When could he ever make the actual decision?
Not about the tattoo, not about Ashura, not about travelling, not about living or dying, about being turned a vampire... A long, long list and because it's that long he isn't even too upset anymore.
Then there is Kurogane's blood. Implying consequences Fai would rather not like to consider, but he can't deny the bond. Without opening his eyes he can tell that Kurogane is hovering nearby, radiating inner turmoil.
Fai hadn't expected that being cared for could amount to this.
Which isn't that surprising, really, because there'd been no room for true feelings in a court full of conspiring nobles and ambitious politicians.
Then again, Kurogane's "If you want to die that badly, I'll kill you." hadn't been a declaration of undying love either.
Nor had the ninja been very gentle with him after he'd opened his eyes – he remembered being shaken like a rag-doll, hands fisting in his hair, clenching around his upper arms hard enough to leave bruises.
But there'd been an underlying sense of affection, a subtle difference between the ninja's former gruff touches and the protective hold. He'd barley been conscious, then, just enough to remember being dragged around like an object, before strong arms had wrapped themselves around his torso.
It would be too easy to blame Kurogane's protective streak for that reaction, the way the ninja had cradled him to his chest and hadn't let go of him, even when faced with the crest of his mother's murderer.
Sweet, if it wasn't far too complicated.
"I'll do anything." Kurogane said. Fai had ever heard this phrase uttered once before, when he'd stood in the rain in front of Yuuko's shop. Syaoran, on his knees, had told Yuuko exactly the same thing, hugging his princess close…
Parallel lines frighten him, this time around. Because, if he considers everything, it's too similar written of as coincidence – a pattern of hitsuzen.
And this means, he has seriously misjudged the ninja's emotions. A tentative sense of friendship, or something like that would have been Fai's estimation of their connection. He'd done his best to keep the other man at arm's length, to keep from becoming attached. Which should have been easy, seeing as he just embodied everything the other detested.
But now…
Everything changed. Somewhere the line between hate and love had blurred, and Fai hadn't even realized it. But the ninja had, and even if his proclamations of affection came in form of threats and occult promises, the underlying emotion had been revealed.
Revealed, only to be perverted by a blood bond.
Kurogane had become his prey, or he dependant on the ninja's blood – neither way would bide well for any healthy relationship. This was somewhere beyond absurd, yet fell short of obscure. Whatever tenuous balance they'd built previously had been completely shattered, scales of power had to be weighted anew.
This is too complicated to contemplate with a hazy mind, so Fai tries opening his eyes. Lights are dimmer now, but the platter of rain against the window's remains a calming constant. His eye's focus is much better than before – actually, even better than when he had both eyes. Still, it will take time to get used to.
And Kurogane knows that he is awake and is going to address him. Fai senses this, moments before the gruff voice reaches his ears.
"Oi."
And the ninja leans down, staring into his eyes with unveiled concern.
"How are you feeling?"
It's not what Fai expected, though not unwelcome. There are a million other things they should be talking about, but now doesn't seem the time to.
And the magician tries to restore a sense of normality, straining himself to a small smile, saying:
"Well enough."
At which Kurogane growls and his expression darkens. Fai blinks, surprised and waits for a clue as to what his reaction should have been.
"Stop acting." The ninja hisses, betrayal shining in red eyes.
Betrayal.
Fai has to take a deep breath, because his mind is spinning out of control. Hell, betrayal – this cuts deeper than the thoughts. Reality is sinking in; Kurogane is honestly concerned – far more concerned than over the kids, because Fai can't imagine the ninja cradling Syaoran or Sakura to his chest and begging the dimension witch to save them – and now it's only Fai himself who tries to deny what binds them together.
Tries to deny himself the comfort he always craved.
So when Kurogane turns away, Fai reaches out and latches onto his hand, even though there's barely strength in his fingers.
"I…"
His voice is too hoarse, too raspy and still sounds so desperately weak. Nothing more than a choked gasp, really. Not allowing room for fanciful words. So he won't question Kurogane's motives, won't voice the fact that effectively, Yuuko has only granted the ninja's wish for him to survive.
Living, however, is another subject.
Because the debt which has been create and the degree of dependence provide a steep contrast to the idea of living. If Kurogane wishes so, he has the power turn Fai into a mindless puppet.
Ashura – an echo, somewhere in Fai's head, but he squanders the thought at once. For all the analogies, Kurogane isn't Ashura. Kurogane would never ever abuse his power like that.
… then again, Ashura hadn't meant to, either.
Perhaps he has been silent for too long, because the ninja turns around, eyes him with thinly veiled concern – Fai marvels at this, until he realizes his hands are trembling. There's cold sweat covering his brow, too, so Kurogane's worries aren't unfounded. Yet they unlock a tightly wrapped ball of turmoil within the wizard's heart, making him recall things he doesn't want to remember.
Somebody sits down on the bed besides him – he can feel the warmth radiating from the body, feel the mattress incline and, dear god, he can sense a pulse. Blood singing out to his overly sharpened senses, and, no, no, no, he doesn't even want to think about it.
Run, his brain screams, but Kurogane is there, placing a hand on his chest, completely unfazed by the wide, desperate smile playing on a bloodless face.
Those demonic red eyes harden in resolve, mouth forming a grim line and Kurogane leans forward, asking the awkward question Fai never wanted to hear.
"Do you need….?"
For a moment he has to clench his eyes shut to keep the bitterness from spilling, shaking his head adamantly. Not now, preferably not ever – if he could only turn out the implications or escape from this situation.
Guilt. Anger.
Emotions eating mercilessly away at his insides, tainting cherished memories and viciously destroying all those small, illusory save havens he created inside his mind.
"Well, then not…" Kurogane muttered, trailing off.
A strange silence settles over the room, the only sound being the everlasting platter of the rain, mixed with Fai's ragged breathing. Both hardly notice that, though, there's too much going on inside their heads.
Once more it's the ninja who summons up the courage to break the spell and address what weights them down.
"I'm sorry."
It sounds simple, inconspicuous – but Fai knows better than to fool himself into believing that. And Kurogane doesn't look like "sorry" in the slightest – rather determined and decided. This isn't a heartfelt, honest sort of sorry, this is only a prelude. So Fai waits, holding Kurogane's penetrating gaze with morbid curiosity.
And Kurogane straightens up, raises his chin and declares:
"I do apologize for forcing this onto you and am prepared to accept the consequences. If you want to hate me, do so. But this I promise: I accept my responsibility and therefore the … necessary duties."
Lovely, soulforged words form the warrior's heart. Just the sort of promise Fai had so dearly wished to hear all along; but right now he would gladly exchange everything to trade places with somebody else. Because... those promises have been born out of necessity and while Kurogane's feelings are as pure and honest as can be, it all is still so wrong.
"I, however, will not apologize for saving your life."
Fai flinches. This is worse than having your eye torn out, this feels like tearing out the soul. It stabs and pierces and effortlessly shatters each and every barrier the magician tried to erect, sends his heart soaring and tumbling in one and the same breath.
There's passion in Kurogane's eyes, dedication and affection and Fai's mind is flooded with guilt at having not seen this earlier. Thoughtlessly played on the ninja's feelings, not knowing that perhaps his words hadn't been meaningless in the other's ears. It feels like fire, warming and burning him from the inside. The world spins too quickly, or maybe it's because he's dizzy again –
Subconsciously his fingers tighten around Kurogane's hand; nails digging into dark skin and the last barrier falls. Before his eyes, the scene blurs, lines shifting to those of a distant memory.
It hadn't been blood, back then.
They'd used colour, pretty, blue colour with magical components.
Ashura had only meant the best.
Kurogane only wants to help.
"It's a full circle." Fai mutters under his breath, shuddering. He senses Kurogane's confusion, but his mind is too far away to care.
Results remain unchanged. His life is irrevocably changed by a person caring greatly for him, while he is struggling to return the same, untainted sentiment.
In the end, he cannot outrun the chains that bind him; to Ashura, to Kurogane, to fate.
Inevitability, Yuuko would call it.
A pattern of Hitsuzen.
So... I hope you enjoyed that one -
(even though the "pattern" wouldn't indicate anything good for Kuro's future... O.o)
P.S: Reviews make me happy...