Summary: In which Kurogane sews a bleeding cloth for Sakura, and Fai uses magic when he said he wasn't going to.
This is where the exciting things begin... at least, they're exciting to me. ;) Thank you to all of you who left a review on the previous part! :)
Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me.
the sword to my shield
(Part 2)
They were out on the streets a while later, with window measurements from Kurogane (handed over with much disgruntlement and muttering), and a short shopping list. Like in many other words they visited, the town square was where most shops were located—from bakeries to produce shops, to florists and appliance-sellers, all tucked neatly behind shopfronts of brick and glass. Since it wasn't market day, however, the place was rather empty, with just a few townsfolk doing their shopping this early in the day.
"How have you managed to get by since we began travelling, Sakura-chan?" Fai asked curiously. It hadn't really occurred to him that she would have such a need—the rest of their traveling group was male (Mokona was not subject to human bodily functions like the monthly flow)—and in-between all the fighting and mystery-solving of the different worlds, there had been more than enough issues for them to be concerned about.
The princess blushed and shrugged. "Come to think of it, I haven't bled since we started this trip," she said thoughtfully, "I'm just glad there was a memory about bleeding in one of the feathers—I would have been so surprised otherwise."
"I'm glad for that too," he agreed, casting his sights about for some sort of clothing shop, or a place selling fabrics. Had the wave of magic yesterday triggered the girl's bleeding? "What did you use to deal with the blood? I'm afraid I don't have much experience with this occurrence," he mentioned with a grin that was almost a grimace.
Sakura frowned in thought. "Well, in Clow Country, we used wads of cloth or rags. My... bleeding has never been consistent, though. The nanny I was with, she said that women bleed monthly... that was never the case with me."
Now that they were moving between worlds so often, it was difficult to track the passage of time, Fai acknowledged. "The women in this world should have their own way of dealing with their bleeding, don't you think?"
The girl brightened, emerald eyes lit inquisitively. "But where would we go to find that information?"
"Any woman would be able to tell you, I think," he answered with a grin.
One encounter with a plump, smiling lady later, they found themselves in a medicine shop of sorts. It wasn't quite a medicine shop, per se; there were all sorts of products on the shelves, from medicines, to shampoos and soaps, to supplements and cosmetics. The man at the counter was dark-haired and dark-eyed, and looked very familiar.
"I don't know what I'm looking for," Sakura whispered to Fai. Her eyes had glazed over at the sheer variety of things on the shelves.
"Ask Touya-san?" he offered, glancing towards the guy manning the register.
"No!" Sakura mumbled, cheeks flushed a bright red. "I know he's not the same person, but... it's just weird, asking my brother about something like that."
"We can't spend forever in this place, you know," Fai reminded her with a smile. "He'll get suspicious. I'll ask him."
The girl squeaked behind him, though he was already striding towards Touya, bright grin pasted on his face. (Somehow, in the worlds he existed, Touya always seemed to wear the plainest, dullest clothes he could find.)
"Excuse me, we're looking for something for a lady's... bleeding?" he began cheerfully. "Could you please tell me where I can find that?"
Touya looked at him with a deadpan expression, glancing briefly at Sakura. "Pads, or painkillers?"
Fai blinked at him. Did the princess require painkillers as well? "Both, I think," he said, just in case.
"Pads are on the aisle right at the back," Touya answered with a jerk of his chin. "Painkillers are further down the aisle."
"Thank you!" Fai smiled brighter, and turned towards the girl. "Come on, Sakura-chan."
Once behind the aisle, he bent a little closer to the blushing girl. "Do you need medicine for the pain? I'm sorry, I didn't know it hurt," he told her apologetically, face falling.
She smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry, Fai-san. It doesn't really hurt for me. I have cramps sometimes, but not often."
He allowed his shoulders to droop in relief. (They really should have acquired all these things earlier, so they weren't left wanting after the fact.) "You looked very uncomfortable yesterday, though."
Sakura shook her head again, emphatically. "I'm feeling fine today, Fai-san." With a smile, "Let's look at what the women in this country use."
The supplement of choice looked to be long, oval padding of some sort, mostly in shades of pink and white.
"Can you read this?" Fai whispered, pointing at the writing on the packages of plastic.
Sakura frowned. "I can't," she said dismally. The flush on her cheeks deepened. "Syaoran-kun is the one who can read different languages."
They brooded over the prospect of asking Touya to read aloud the wordings on the different packages to them, and (Sakura) balked.
At length, Fai decided to compare the different bags of padding. "It seems that there are some which are longer than the others," he said, looking at diagrams on one package. "Which size do you think you might need, Sakura-chan?"
She made a face and scrutinized the different designs and brands, and finally decided on one. "I... think this might work."
"Well, to be safe, we should ask Touya-san to read it to us, don't you think?" Fai suggested, tapping his chin with a finger. Sakura squirmed next to him. When they were back at the cashier counter, he smiled brightly at this version of Sakura's brother again. "Excuse me, we aren't really from this place... Could you read the writing on this package to us?"
The princess looked as if she might faint on the spot. Touya glanced between the two of them, mildly bewildered, so Fai waved his hands to try and bring his point across.
"We just need some important information about it," he said blithely, "You know, things like the size, the material, whether it can be washed..."
Touya stared at him. "These are meant to be disposable."
"Oh." Fai felt his grin slip a little. Disposable things meant that they had to keep spending money on them, and purchase a stash, in case they ever ran out. "Well, that's fine."
"Fai-san," Sakura said in a small voice next to him. "It's okay, we don't need that."
His brow furrowed. "But it's for your comfort, Sakura-chan—"
She shook her head; he bent his knees and leaned in so he was closer to her height, setting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Don't worry so much," he told her with a soft smile, "Give it a try—we don't have to get more if you decide that you don't like it." When it seemed as if she would protest further, he offered, "We'll get the cloth too, so you'll be able to decide which you prefer."
The princess seemed to be swayed by that, and eventually nodded, dipping her chin. "Sorry for the trouble, Fai-san."
"It's not a big deal," he answered, straightening to pay for the package. "All of us—Syaoran-kun, Kuro-pon, Mokona and I want to see you happy, you know."
It was a low blow, perhaps, but Sakura smiled at him. "Thank you."
Two hours later, they were done with shopping. (Fai had somehow convinced Touya to explain how exactly one used "pads", as they called it in this world. Sakura had blushed to the roots of her hair, and Fai wondered if most men in Nagare knew information like that.)
"I think that's all we need for the next two days," he remarked, looking between the paper bags they cradled in their arms.
They had found a fabric shop easily enough; Sakura expressed an interest in white cotton. From its texture, Fai could tell that it was lightweight and absorbed moisture easily—a material very suited for clothing in a hot world. Thus, he had bought a little more than they needed, in case the time came when they had use for such a material. (Thankfully, they hadn't been to a desert country like the princess described... yet.)
"And we've ordered the glass for the windows," the princess added, glancing at the receipt tucked in her paper bag. "I'm glad we don't have to carry it back between us!"
Fai grinned at her. "Same here, Sakura-chan."
Most of the things they'd bought were for sustenance—without knowing when exactly they would leave this country, none of them were keen on stocking the pantry or fridge especially fully, hence the need to purchase food every couple of days or so.
"What would you like to have for dinner?" he asked suddenly, going through the contents of their kitchen in his mind. "We have sausages, and some chicken..."
"You make anything taste good, Fai-san," Sakura beamed. He smiled back at her.
"I'm just glad you like my cooking," he lilted. "You know, I can teach you how to cook the things I've been making, just like in Outo."
The girl perked up. "Really?"
"Yup!" Fai smiled. "Plus, it really helps to have an assistant in the kitchen!"
(It would help because then he wouldn't have to keep thinking about depressing things.)
The attack came so suddenly that Fai was caught unawares, until it was almost too late.
He grabbed Sakura by the elbow and twisted her sharply to the side, so black streaks narrowly missed hitting them both. Inky, hissing puddles formed on the asphalt and concrete; Fai frowned. How were there attacks so early in the day? He hadn't forgotten the wave of magic from yesterday; was this yet another world in which Seishirou was attempting to control the demonic forces?
Kurogane had mentioned the figure behind the arrow attacks; Fai spotted it some ways off, on the roof of a building. It raised an arm again, and he knew with glaring certainty that another wave was about to be launched.
Two options: stay and fight, or run.
He shoved his paper bag into Sakura's arms with a murmured apology. "You know the way back to the house, don't you, Sakura-chan?" She nodded. "I need you to run all the way back without stopping to worry about me, okay?"
Her brows drew together, concern glittering in her eyes. "But Fai-san—"
"Go!" He made a grab for a tree branch hanging low over the sidewalk and tugged on it; it snapped under his weight. Fai brandished it in front of him, hard pressed to keep up any semblance of cheer when the princess was in danger like this. She took off with a patter of shoes on concrete.
The wave of arrows descended; he waved the branch to catch any going in Sakura's direction, nimbly twisting away from the arrows aimed at himself. Unlike the black tar that bounded off the road yesterday, these ate into leaves and twigs with an ominous sizzle.
Fai glanced towards the princess, running backwards where he could to keep up with her. More projectiles flew at them, covering a wider area so it got harder to protect Sakura—there was still some distance between him and her, and he couldn't reach all the arrows in one fell swoop.
One arrow did get past him, landing dangerously close to Sakura's feet, and his ribs tightened.
His heart thundered in his chest; these tar arrows were made of magic, and there was little he could do to stop them, save for attacking their wielder head-on, or casting a wall of defense.
But if he could distract their attacker by diverting all their attention...
With a last look back at Sakura's retreating figure, he dashed forward when there was a break between the waves of arrows, down the pavement towards the figure standing on the roof.
Are you always going to come to me for help doing things you're capable of accomplishing yourself?
Fai gritted his teeth when another volley of tar arrows flew at him. He swung the tree branch in a wide arc—the inky streaks caught and clung and burned, but there was a couple that flew through the gaps in the leaves, one grazing the line of his shoulder. Pain seared into his flesh; he gasped, pressed on regardless. If he could have the figure focus all the arrows on him...
Their attacker raised both arms right then. Fai braced himself for a blast of an attack—but what streamed out of the figure's hands was a swooping mass of black that headed straight into the distance, where Sakura probably was.
His gut constricted. He didn't think then; all he knew was to fling the branch aside and carve bright purple runes in the air with a desperate finger (no, no, he could be the one injured but no one else would suffer because of him—)
The runes sliced through the air towards Sakura, not quite fast enough to catch up with the headway the figure had gained in the space of seconds. He began to run, this time away from the figure, pushing all his magic into the point of his finger. Fai grit his teeth, forcing his limbs to move faster, runes from not-so-long-ago pouring into his mind, the most powerful defense he could conjure for a princess as important as Sakura.
He made it in time—barely, as the violet of his magic swooped in front of the black and repelled it just as it was about to take a sharp downward turn.
There was the bone-deep ping of the spell as it wound around Sakura and sealed around her, forming a resonance. Fai turned away from her, confident of her safety now, and lifted his arm to deal with the figure that had caused all this in the first place.
But the figure had vanished into thin air, like it did yesterday.
Fai growled in frustration, adrenaline coursing through his blood. He surveyed the street—it looked rather normal, even then. The tar stains had somehow faded away, and the breeze rustled through tree canopies on either sides of the road.
He had used his magic.
The realization struck like a heavy blow to his stomach; he thought about Ashura-ou, and I will follow your magic through worlds. He thought about the crimson blood on his foster father's hands, the death he had yet to execute, the sleeping man beneath deep pools of water, and trembled.
He had to remove the traces of magic. Chii would inform him if Ashura-ou woke, but what if she was unable to?
Fai gulped. Tried to breathe. He half-stumbled, half-jogged to where he remembered seeing his defense spell, and his knees weakened at the sight of Sakura, deep green eyes staring at him in distress, trapped in the dome that was an elegant weave of thick, impenetrable swirls. He had to get rid of the spell, now.
Jerkily, he made his way over to her, pressing his hand to the metallic surface of the protective dome. It melted when he sent a brief command into it, all curls lifting away from each other, sucked backwards into his open palm in the wink of an eye.
"Fai-san," Sakura gasped, falling forward, burdened by their two paper bags of shopping. "You're hurt!"
He blinked at her, only then looking down at himself. The cut on his shoulder was bleeding, oozing sticky blood down his shirt, but he wasn't thinking about that. There were still traces of his magic in the air here, and it was a damn beacon to Ashura-ou. They had to leave (now now now), or he had to find some way to remove the faint scent of cinnamon that he could taste on his tongue, that wasn't detectable to all but magic users like himself.
"S-Sakura-chan," he whispered, raking his eyes over her face. "Are you hurt?"
It was a miracle that his voice was still steady, when he was scared, so damn scared. (What if Ashura-ou came for him, what if he brought Fai, what if—)
"I'm fine, Fai-san, you protected me—" The princess paused abruptly, her eyes wide with concern. "But I thought you weren't going to use your magic..."
He gulped and attempted to smile at her, but his face was frozen. "I— I was worried about you," he told her, clenching his fists so he'd stop shaking. "Let's not mention this to the others, okay?"
Sakura frowned at him. "But you saved me from an attack, and you're hurt."
Fai bit his lip, wiping at his shoulder so it would stop bleeding. (It didn't.) "I'll be fine. Let's get back to the house first, okay? It's just a small attack. We'll have Kuro-rin take care of the attacks next time— You know, I think if Syaoran-kun is awake, it'll do us a great lot of good if you and him could sort out the mess that Mokona has been storing for us..."
He took his shopping bag back from the princess and distracted her with an incessant flow of chatter, to the extent that she was back to her smiling self by the time they reached the house. He was even able to grin widely again at that point.
Kurogane took one look at them and narrowed his eyes.
Fai continued his chatter, smiled blandly at him, before following Sakura to the kitchen. "Why don't you give the pads a try, Sakura. I'll put the groceries away and rest for a while, and we'll attempt to make those cotton things for you later tonight."
"Will do," she answered, beaming, though that slipped when her gaze returned to the cut on his shoulder.
He stopped her before she could say a word. "I'll take care of this right after," he said, pulling the plastic bag of pads out of their grocery bags. "All right?"
"Okay," Sakura replied reluctantly, glancing back at him before she headed out of the kitchen.
Fai supposed that his luck had to run out at some point, when Kurogane stepped in two seconds later.
"There was an attack to the east ten minutes ago," the ninja told him without preamble.
He could tell that Kurogane was watching him carefully for a reaction; he kept his face blank, and raised his eyebrows. "Really? What did you see? It's just like Kuro-rin to be so observant—"
"I saw black, like the attack from yesterday, and there was purple next to it."
The man was glancing at his shoulder; Fai emptied the paper bags onto the kitchen table, setting the glass receipt and the bundle of cotton aside. It was when he began storing the potatoes that Kurogane spoke again, "Where were you when the attack occurred?"
Right there, Kuro-tan. "Um, I think we were to the west," Fai said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
"Don't give me that crap. The market's to the east." Kurogane folded his arms across his (wide, wide) chest, pinned him with his crimson stare. "Where were you and the princess?"
"Safe," Fai told him defiantly. He lifted his chin a little, refusing to back down.
The other man studied his injury, still bleeding traitorously. "The last time you were injured, we were in Outo, fighting oni. Before that, it was the Kishiim."
"Hyuu, Kuro-pin has such a good memory," Fai sang. He grabbed a few cans off the kitchen table, shoved them into the pantry.
"Both times, the injuries were from something you were unable to dodge while fighting."
Fai shrugged, ignored the man leaning against the kitchen wall. He tucked the fresh vegetables into the back of the fridge and put the herbs away—his work here was done, and he really needed to find a way to erase those traces of magic...
"It was just a tree branch, Kuro-wan," he tittered, stepping towards the kitchen doorway, leaving as much space as he could between himself and the ninja. "Should I be flattered that you're so concerned—"
A large hand shot out, grabbing his arm, and Fai found himself spun around to face Kurogane. Red eyes bore through him; he swallowed.
"You smell like cinnamon," Kurogane muttered.
Shock almost bowled him over; his mouth fell open. Only magic users could detect magic—yet he had definitely not sensed an ounce of magical energy on the ninja.
"We were at the market, Kuro-rin, there were herbs everywhere. Did anyone attack the house today?" he asked, in a feeble attempt to divert the other's attention. Kurogane nodded. "Did they get in?"
"No." Kurogane released him then, leaving warm imprints on Fai's arm. "But not for lack of trying."
"Oh," was all Fai could get past his lips. (The wards had worked, then.) "Well, I'm sure your scary face was enough to make them stop."
The look Kurogane gave him told him that he clearly thought otherwise. Fai swallowed, turned to go.
"My mother was a miko, a shrine priestess," the ninja said quietly behind him. "She always smelled different after she used magic."
Fai didn't dare acknowledge his words when he finally stepped out of the kitchen, but his heart was thudding loud enough that he was sure Kurogane could hear it anyway.
The second bedroom was still cluttered when he shut himself in it. Thankfully, the prying ninja had not bothered to follow him in; this would have been difficult to explain. Fai picked his way over to one of the broken windows, carefully lifting the curtain aside to survey his surroundings. Around, the neat brick homes were intact and pristine as ever, and people wandered down the street, watering their gardens or whatever it was that they did.
The important thing was that he didn't sense any sort of interfering magic, or feel any malignant presences. That was enough for now.
Quickly, Fai crossed the room to where he'd set a roll of parchment paper on the bedside table. This was one of his baking supplies he'd stored with Mokona; paper though it was, it was waterproof, and he had drawn the building wards on this material because of its durability.
For runes to absorb magic, though, the material they were written on would have to be prone to being drenched, so the runes could bind magic to themselves and the writing material... And that was if he even knew what he was doing. There had been no books on Celes about removing magical traces—that, and he had not needed to hide from Ashura-ou until he began this journey.
Fai winced at the memory, fished a hand-sized notebook out of a pile, and sat himself against the side of the bed.
It really was one thing to work with runes... And another to work with runes to make them draw upon the life forces of the things around them. Already, the trees and plants around the building were beginning to wilt, just a little; he had instructed the wards to absorb and use magical and physical energy from attacks on the building, if they occurred. Add that to the permissions he'd written, the intricacies of energy storage, the exact life forms the wards could draw living energy from, as well as a token invisibility spell, there really had not been much space to write at all. Fai was very thankful for the invention of ball-point pens... as well as tea. The creation of these magic-absorption sheets was going to be yet another tiring endeavor.
He had painstakingly written out three iterations of spells when the door opened suddenly behind him.
Fai subdued his flinch and turned to face the intruder, stretching his lips wide in a smile.
Kurogane chucked an open envelope at his face. "Oi. Read that. The town council legalized a new level of Sword-Shield partnership."
With a frown, Fai grabbed the envelope (that had landed on the floor, after he tilted his head to dodge it) and pulled the thick stack of material out. Garbled strings of nonsense stared back at him. "I can't read this."
The ninja scoffed and strode over, tugging the papers back out of his outstretched hand. "On the first page, it reads, 'Blood bonds now legal for all levels of Sword-Shield partnerships.'
"'After 11 months of public discussions and various comprehensive studies, the Nagare Ministry of Employment has ascertained that blood bonds between Swords and Shields are not detrimental, contrary to previous announcements. In this letter, you will find various materials on blood bonds, a list of which is on Page Two of this document. Blood bonds are hereby declared legal starting from—'" Kurogane stopped reading and looked back at him.
Fai felt his forehead crinkling. Blood bonds? They had only been in Nagare for a few days, and had hardly interacted with other Swords and Shields enough to catch wind of the controversy. Worse, what kind of disadvantages did that bond have? He had a sinking feeling that it would involve giving Kurogane access to more of his mind than he really preferred.
The larger man stood over him, waiting for a response. Now that he wasn't reading, those crimson eyes were wandering onto the torn pages from Fai's notebook, looking at the runes with narrow-eyed suspicion.
Fai flushed and shoved the pages away, out of sight. He really had to be working on recapturing his magic, Ashura-ou could be— "What are the implications of the partnership?"
Kurogane's gaze pierced him. (Could he see how Fai was waiting for him to leave? Could he see the fatigue and lingering fear that Fai was trying to forget?) "Energy-sharing. Constant awareness of your partner. More of feelings than thoughts. Depending on blood, our attack strength could increase. Tied life lines, which was why it was illegal until now."
"That means I'd die if you do?" Fai asked wryly. It didn't sound as bad as he thought it might be. Kurogane didn't strike him as someone who'd die easily. "Are there other disadvantages?"
"It's permanent."
He drew a sharp breath. A permanent bond wasn't something he wanted to share with Kurogane, even if it lasted only in this world. He could even put up with the other man feeling his (stupid) bouts of fear, but Kurogane catching the emotional residue from his nightmares, from trying to fix the traces of magic in this world... There wasn't any privacy at all.
"No," Fai told him flatly. "I think you're strong enough, Kuro-pon, we don't need some nonsense partnership when we've been doing just fine with the demons—"
"What was that you were writing?" the ninja interrupted. "On those pieces of paper."
He wanted to hide, but there was nothing he could shield himself with, save for a smile. "Just drawings, you know, I thought we could have some pieces of art hanging around the house, don't you think?"
Fai realized his mistake just as Kurogane said evenly, "Let's see them, then."
The grin that erupted on his face was thousand-watt, and brighter than the sun. "Oh, no, Kuro-wan, you'll just tear them up like a bad puppy, you know? They aren't done yet!"
"I won't tear them up." The ninja stepped closer, large feet making no sound on the hardwood floor.
"Why don't you go see if Syaoran-kun is feeling better?" Fai babbled, inching away from the other man, his heart racing, trying discreetly to tuck the notebook and pieces of paper under the bed. "It really is more important than seeing a few worthless drawings!"
"Why don't you go check on the kid yourself?" Kurogane countered, ruby eyes glinting. "Surely a few 'worthless drawings' are going to be fine by themselves here."
He swallowed hard, wondering if there was any way he could leap over the bed with minimal damage. The other man had the distinct advantage here—he was on his feet, and would be quicker than Fai trying to get any momentum going in this mess of a room.
And all this time, his magic was lingering around out on the streets, waiting for Ashura-ou to come find him.
The wave of panic was back. Fai snatched his notebook and papers, clutched them in his arms, and shoved himself to his feet, barreling straight into Kurogane's chest to knock him backwards. The larger man stepped back in surprise—things crunched beneath his feet, probably possessions that would have got them a hot meal in another world.
Fai didn't have time to feel sorry about the loss. He had to get out there and remove those traces of magic (would the three spells be enough?) and maybe the wards on the house would accept them as magical energy to be consumed... He twisted to leave—
A strong arm snaked across his arms and chest and yanked him backwards, into a solid wall of warmth.
"Mage," came the low growl in his ear, "You're up to something."
He gulped, darted his gaze around the room to find an escape. Perhaps he should've made the wards capable of flight, so he could have just thrown them out of the window... "You're seeing things, Kuro-chi," he chirped in a higher pitch than usual. There wasn't any point in struggling—the ninja possessed way more brute force than he did. "One would think you're hallucinating, perhaps—"
"You used magic for the princess's sake earlier," Kurogane said quietly, and Fai tensed. "It wasn't even for yourself, or you wouldn't have got hurt."
He could feel the other man's heartbeat in his back, powerful and sturdy, like an anchor, like something that could protect— "Really, Kuro-rin, do you know what you're saying?" Fai mumbled unevenly. "You should probably let me go, you know, what if the children see this—"
"They're all resting." Fai had a moment to wonder at how Kurogane cared enough about them to know (how the ninja never failed to surprise him), and then he felt the other's breath against his scalp, soughing through his hair. "You put yourself at risk to save the princess. Your magic will have your past catching up with you, and you used it for her sake."
"Let go of me, you brute," Fai protested, struggling so Kurogane wouldn't feel the way his heart was pounding in his chest. "Or are you hugging me because you're secretly interested in me, Kuro-pipi?"
The man dropped him like a rock then, and Fai didn't glance at him. All he was concerned with was getting out of that room, away from the suffocating air that Kurogane carried with him. He had to finish those new spells—hopefully his magic hadn't scattered by now...
(If he had turned back, he would have seen the discomfiture on Kurogane's face, edged with horror and embarrassment.)
Fai finished a total of five wards, and patched both himself and his shirt up before searching out the princess. (The little bits of first aid he'd picked up over the years came in handy now and again, even if he would never be capable of working miracles in healing.)
Sakura glanced up from her sentinel by Syaoran's bed when Fai knocked on the bedroom door. "Fai-san!"
He smiled at her. "How are Syaoran-kun and Mokona doing?"
The boy was steadily gaining color to his cheeks; Fai thought he might stay awake for longer soon. None of them had any idea what sort of ailment he had—he hadn't been coughing or sneezing, or showing signs of strange spots or rashes. All the indication he'd presented since first collapsing were bouts of dizziness and fevers, and long stretches of unconsciousness.
"He's doing better," the girl smiled, wiping Syaoran's face down with a damp cloth. Her face fell the moment she glanced at their furred companion. "Mokona hasn't felt any better since yesterday, though."
Fai wandered into the room and stopped by the bedside, next to Sakura. Yuuko had not seemed troubled last night, when she heard about Mokona's condition, so he thought it safe to assume that she would recover at some point. "It's just been a day, Sakura-chan. Why don't we wait and give her a little more time?"
There was stark relief in her eyes; he felt compelled to smile back at her, to help soothe her worries.
"Now, how about we start making you some of those bleeding cloths? It doesn't look like Kuro-rin is hankering to go out hunting yet." Fai reached a hand out towards Sakura; she placed her fingers in his trustingly, with more gentleness than a person like him really deserved.
The idiot mage and the princess were in the kitchen, and Kurogane couldn't help but listen in on their chatter.
"You see, I thought it would be easier to wash them if we kept the cloths as flat sheets, and roll them up into a wad when you need to use them," the man was saying brightly. Kurogane had passed the doorway earlier; they had a bundle of white cloth spread out between them, as well as some thread and scissors to the side. "And I figured that it would be easiest to keep them in place with buttons on both ends, like so..."
"That's very similar to how it's done in Clow Country," Sakura told him warmly. Kurogane could already imagine the smile in her voice.
Why she chose to trust a liar like that, no one knew. The skinny twit was far too tight-lipped, adding more lies and secrets to his repertoire every time Kurogane looked at him. He was so fucking tired of those lies, and they didn't even have anything to do with him.
All the same... the mage was a good man at heart.
Kurogane could not turn a blind eye on the magic he'd witnessed hours ago, how the stupid blond had showed up with the princess, both unscathed save for the cut on his shoulder. It had been a defensive spell—he had seen it unfold from the bedroom upstairs while watching over the kid and white pork bun. The ebony swathe had shot towards him, closely followed by vivid purple runes of a language he couldn't understand, and the violet had cut the black off in a protective swirl.
He wasn't sure when exactly Fai sustained the cut on his shoulder—but he was damn positive that the princess was in true danger of some sort for the idiot to go all out to defend her. And he'd returned smelling like magic (sweet like his pastries), the scent of which still lingered about the house.
As if taunting Kurogane, for all the attraction that he'd been trying to stifle.
The idiot was probably blindsided by all the secrets he was mired in, and Kurogane wasn't certain what to think about how Fai's duality crawled beneath his skin. The mage was who the kids turned to for reassurance, supporting them when he could barely sustain himself, when all he did was run and hide and pretend to smile.
It was an aggravating train of thought, so Kurogane stalked out of the house, into the fresh breeze outside.
Word had spread about the treasures in the building, apparently. Through the day, there had been attacks upon the house by various ragtag burglars.
Kurogane had waited outside for them at first, early in the morning, heading off kids who didn't know whom they were up against. A quick patrol had him coming across some unconscious thugs, men he had sensed for a while during a fight with some others before their auras died down. It was as if there were an invisible force protecting the building, so he had hidden himself in one of the trees to investigate; it wasn't as if he couldn't come up behind intruders after.
His suspicions were confirmed when a couple of scrawny boys approached the house and attempted to surreptitiously pry a window open—they had been thrown backwards into unconsciousness, and that was that.
(Kurogane tried to open the window himself; nothing untoward had assaulted him.)
At first, he'd thought that Fai had bought the barrier off the witch. There were wards on the four corners of the building, that he could almost see if he tilted his head a certain way. But the minute writing on them was the same as what he'd seen on the notebook that Fai was so desperately trying to hide.
The mage had stayed up to create those wards. And he was trying to conceal the fact that he'd done anything to protect them all.
There was a tight, intense knot of feeling in Kurogane's chest that he didn't want to pick apart, so he returned into the house, and headed upstairs to the bedrooms. Syaoran was still sleeping next to Mokona; the other bedroom door was shut.
He figured that no one would mind if he spent some time in the midst of their hoard. Kurogane closed the door behind him.
Curiously enough, it didn't take him long to find that notebook—either Fai didn't expect him to go hunting for it, or he knew the mage better than he thought. It was shoved under the pillow on one of the beds, smelling very faintly of cinnamon.
Inside, there was a stack of torn pages, some intact, some not. Precise, neat runes covered each page, written with a steady hand. (He'd seen those long fingers, could imagine the mage with his head bent, brow crinkled in concentration, a contradictory picture to flapping hands and stupid smiles.) Looking at these runes was almost too intimate, because they showed him a side of Fai that Fai kept secret from everyone... a side that made him very real, very human.
(If that endeared him to Kurogane any, he wasn't acknowledging it.)
He hadn't the patience or knowledge to tell if the runes were the same between the pages, or what they were for, but Kurogane didn't particularly care, either. The mage's belongings were not something Kurogane should be rifling through.
Voices sounded outside the door.
With a little guilty beat of his heart, he shoved the pages back into the notebook, slid it back under the pillow and straightened, looking up just as the door opened.
"I have the most delightful collection of buttons," Fai chirped over his shoulder, before he froze at the sight of Kurogane. There was no missing the way his gaze flickered down to the pillow, and back up at Kurogane. In that split second before he covered it up with a grin, Fai had looked frightened, aghast, and reproachful all at once. "Kuro-wan, I wasn't expecting to see you in here!"
Kurogane shrugged awkwardly, glanced at the expectant countenance of the princess, which was glowing in the orange lamplight (it was past noon and the curtains had been shut tight since last night).
"I was just looking for something," he muttered, for lack of a better explanation.
The look on the blond's face turned a little sly, very nearly spiteful. He stepped into the room and waved the princess in. "Well, if you're looking for something to do, Sakura-chan needs a few more bleeding cloths, and more hands will get the work done quicker."
He hadn't wanted to, but the glance of pleased surprise from the princess sealed his agreement.
And so Kurogane found himself squeezed into the kitchen with Sakura and Fai, with a long stretch of cloth in front of him that he had no idea what to do with.
"Have you sewn in your life, Kuro-pon?" the mage asked sweetly, threading a needle with remarkable ease. To his right, Sakura had started on her piece of cloth, concentration scrawled through her face as she did something along the edges of the material.
Kurogane shrugged. His mother had been the one to mend tears in his clothes, and after, when he'd moved to Shirasagi Castle, he'd only patched his uniform with untidy stitches that were more suited to sewing bloody wounds up.
Fai clicked his tongue. "Well then, I guess I'll have to teach Big Puppy to sew as well."
He felt his hackles rise. "I'm not a puppy!"
The mage waved his outburst away, scooting closer with his chair. He handed a threaded needle to Kurogane; those slender fingers were cold when he took it from them. "See, Kuro-puu, you start to sew by pushing the needle into the cloth—"
"I fucking know how to sew!" Kurogane snapped, shoving the point of the needle into white fabric. The needle was awfully tiny between his fingers, and he couldn't imagine having the patience to do this on repeat, even if he had lain in wait for demons in situations a hell lot more uncomfortable than this.
Fai smiled patronizingly at him. "Well then, maybe you'll do better if Sakura-chan told you how you should sew, no?"
Kurogane could have killed the man.
He did absorb the instructions better when the princess pointed out where his stitches should go. Little barbed remarks, like You should try to keep the stitches all the same size, and You shouldn't space them so far apart, and Is Kuro-pon bested by a mere little needle? came up time and again, and it really was for Sakura's sake that he saved all violence for later—he swore he would punch the idiot's skull in.
Somehow, Kurogane sat through it all. He reinforced the edges of the cloth with simple (messy) up-and-over stitches that were nothing like Fai's (beautiful) L-shaped ones, and the princess smiled encouragingly at him, brightening when he (miraculously) plodded through the entire border of the material (cotton, he learned). In between, Fai made a late lunch for them all, fed the invalids upstairs, and cleared the table so they could return to sewing.
He didn't ask what the bleeding cloths were for. (Back in Nihon, some of the kunoichi had to take a day or two off sometimes. Cramps, Souma had told him, and proceeded to explain in gory detail what that was all about.) Kurogane couldn't say he wanted to be a woman at all, but he did feel a little contrite that he hadn't been aware of Sakura's situation until Fai had brought the issue up.
Damn mage.
In the end, they completed three bleeding cloths between themselves. Kurogane's looked the worst, if workable. Sakura's was decently neat, and the stitches on Fai's were so uniform that one would have been hard-pressed not to believe it was store-bought. All three cloths were sewn with buttons that the princess had picked out from Fai's collection—there were summer-sky blues and sunshine yellows and red like the ruby of Kurogane's eyes—an odd combination, if anyone asked the ninja's opinion of it.
Fai inspected all the cloths for workmanship, gave a hum of approval, tidied the kitchen, and promptly whisked Sakura away to wash the cloths, so they could dry and be ready for her use as soon as possible. They busied themselves with dinner next (how had the day slipped by so quickly?), and it was with much yawning and stretching that Fai declared he was ready for bed, an hour after sunset.
"Oi," Kurogane muttered, nudging the blond with a foot when the latter curled up on the floor outside the children's bedroom. "We haven't been out hunting today."
The mage cracked a glimmering blue eye open. "We can go tomorrow, Kuro-pon. It's late."
"It's not even midnight yet," he huffed. "Don't give me that crap."
"But my eyes are tired, don't you see?" he lilted, and squinted up at Kurogane for emphasis. "I won't be any good if I can't see straight."
There was something suspicious about Fai's behavior, that much Kurogane knew. (The notebook with spells still lingered at the forefront of his mind.) He decided to prod a little harder, to see how far the idiot would maintain this pretense. "Drink some tea and you'll be fine. I know you don't sleep much."
Fai pouted, wispy golden hair splayed out on his pillow. "But Kuro-pii, we've been sewing all day—surely you need some rest as well."
It was true that the sewing had sapped some of his alertness, and that closing his eyes for a bit would do them some good. He wasn't about to acknowledge that the other had a point, though, so Kurogane muttered and stalked downstairs, where he could spend a while in the shadowy living room.
Scarcely half an hour had passed before there came the light tread of feet on stairs.
Kurogane kept his breathing slow and even, and wondered if the mage was stupid enough to think he was asleep—they had been through too much danger at this point to willingly fall into deep slumber. Even so, he did not move, merely listened out for the way Fai padded quietly across the living room, paused for a moment, before slipping out of the front door with a quiet click.
He unfurled from his place on the floor. By the time Kurogane reached one of the windows by the door, Fai had already made his way to the end of the street, heading eastwards.
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