Title:Lost in Translation.
Lesson IX: Choices.
(No. 9 of ?)
Pairing: KuroFai
Disclaimer: These
two were hatched from the collective brain of CLAMP. Not
mine.
Spoilers: I don't think so, but it is set during the
Shurano/Yamano arc. I'm writing a few short stories based on the
adventures of Kurogane and Fai in Yasha territory (aka "Yamano")
with a focus on the language barrier.
Rating: PG-16. For
all the stories as a whole (language, some violence... and possible
"adult situations.")
Word Count: 3539
Notes:
heed the violence warning for this chapter. Expect further
violence in later chapters as well.
"Kuro-wanko! For last night, thank you very much for me doing!"
Kurogane nearly dropped his change of clothes. "WHAT?!" he sputtered, his fingers twitching. "I didn't do anything to you, moron!"
Fai's sleepy smile mutated into a full-lipped pout. "Did too," he insisted, pushing his blankets aside and snatching up a beaded pillow. He pressed it against his shoulder. "Kuro-sama did this to me!"
Kurogane grunted as he pulled on his Sharano top. "Oh, that. Yeah. It's called carrying. I carried you."
"Carrying. Carrying. I carried you," Fai repeated, his eyes thoughtful, his fingers brushing against the pillow idly.
"I sure as hell wasn't doing that to you," Kurogane muttered under his breath, his face flushing. He'd just hauled the idiot back with absolutely minimal touching, and he certainly hadn't been the one sitting suspiciously close to Fai at the camp fire.
Kurogane listened to Fai repeat the words a few more times before he nodded his grudging approval. Fai's ear for Japanese had definitely improved because he'd learned to listen for the lengths of vowel sounds. (His one glaring, consistent failure remained the mangling of his teacher's name, but Kurogane knew full well to attribute that to Fai's perversity and not his lack of actual skill.) Later, Fai would undoubtedly pester him to write down the kanji for "carrying" into his "book," a little scrap of discarded papers Fai had sewn together with yarn. The pages were mostly full of kanji along with annotations in Fai's strange language, and occasional sketches (Kurogane had once caught a glimpse of the hated "Big Puppy" avatar while recording a kanji for Fai, but the mage had snatched the book away with a glare before he could "improve" the picture.)
"I need many arrows. I will go to Chiba-sama's tent," Fai was saying as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. Kurogane honestly didn't know why Fai bothered every morning; the hair was as perverse as its owner and simply returned to its usual messy state after feigning compliance for a few moments.
"Okay, then meet me at the field when you're done. Also, see if you can learn anything from Chiba about Yasha. Be careful."
Fai nodded, then picked up a basket of berries before leaving the tent, probably to give to the archery instructor as an apology for the early morning intrusion. The camp diet didn't include much fruit, so Fai had been rather pleased to find edible berries growing wild in the bushes behind the archery targets. They'd both wanted to explore the outlying wilderness further, but they'd only been given permission to use the training field because Girl Braids had interceded for them, so it would be poor thanks on their part to wander off.
Kurogane unwrapped Souhi from its blanket wrapping, attaching it to his belt as he strode outside. A few evening stars still flickered in the paling sky, and the camp was completely silent except for clattering from the mess tent as breakfast preparations started. Kurogane preferred to purge his mind of extraneous thoughts before sword practice, but his conversation with Fai about the Yasha business lingered. Fai had agreed that the key was "what they're after", obviously some secret that was being concealed from the general camp. Perhaps only the officers knew, or maybe even just a select few officers like Gion. According to the friendly soldiers, the bandits had always been an annoyance, springing the occasional raid on the supply wagons or attacking remote outposts, but they'd never waged outright war like they had in these past few weeks. No one had any idea of what could possibly be driving them to behave so insanely; the bandits were outnumbered and outclassed and had thus suffered heavy causalities. Obviously the bandits felt whatever they were after was worth death: possibly, one of the princess' feathers. It wouldn't be the first time people had been willing to die for a feather. A feather would also explain why the camp leadership were being so secretive, and Kurogane couldn't entirely fault them. He could certainly think of a few soldiers he wouldn't trust with such knowledge.
Then there was the matter of the mole. Kurogane rolled his eyes as he started his routine calistenics. That Urauke jerk thought they were the bandits' moles. Idiot bastard. What self-respecting organization would use the most obvious fellows in camp as moles? Back in Japan, he'd been involved in a few undercover operations, and he knew the best moles were average-looking with bland personalities. Neither he nor that idiot mage fit the profile. Kurogane reached forward, grabbing his foot with a bit more force than necessary. It was going to be difficult for Fai and him to discover the truth about the bandits' goal, especially if other people also suspected they were moles. They wouldn't be privy to such sensitive suspicions.
Morning calistenics finished, Kurogane unsheathed Souhi. He ran through a drill, angling and dipping the sword with a slow grace. The matter of Yasha and his mysterious illness also bothered him. Judging from the conversation, Yasha was eager to leave the tent, but for whatever reason Gion wanted to keep him in the tent, and Yasha was (for now) acceding to his wishes. Why did Gion have that sort of influence over Yasha? Yasha certainly didn't seem like the type to need the approval of a Man-Braids. And apparently, Yasha wanted to spar with him. Kurogane sliced through the air with gusto. Maybe if he got bored with waiting for Yasha, he'd bust Yasha out of that tent and they could go ahead and have their little spar right then and there. Damn army protocol and all that, he was spoiling for a good, knock-down-drag-out no-holds-barred fight and he had the feeling Yasha could give it to him.
The ground tremored.
Kurogane froze, Souhi halted in mid-air as he stared into the distance beyond the practice fields. There were small, unmistakable dust clouds rising into the air. Someone – several someones – were riding rather quickly in his direction. The ninja squinted. He couldn't quite make out the figures, but something was terribly off. The speed of the riders was far greater than he'd ever seen the dragon mounts of Yasha's men achieve. The mounts' weight prevented them from attaining such speeds, and the soldiers also tended to load them down with weaponry.
With a stab of foreboding, Kurogane suddenly recalled a soldier's remark: "The 'plainsmen' – or the crazy psycho sons of sand bitches, as we like to call 'em - don't use proper mounts like we do. They got these dragon critters that run on two legs instead of four so they can go helluva fast. But they're mean little buggers and would just as soon eat ya as let ya ride on 'em. Guess that don't matter to crazy sand psychos, though. All they want is speed so they can strike hard an' strike fast an' strike ya dead."
The camp was too far for Kurogane to race back in time to sound the alarm. On foot, he'd be run down in a matter of seconds. Concealing himself was also not an option; all vegetation had been efficiently cleared from the practice field. So he would have to make his stand right where he stood.
Kurogane flexed his hand around Souhi's grip and exhaled slowly, preparing his mind for the battle to come. By now he could see that there were twelve riders. Twelve battle-ready men from a tribe reputed for ferocity and insanity against one unarmored man. Twelve to one.
A predatory smile of anticipation spread across Kurogane's face. He had been wanting a fight, after all.
As the riders drew within fifty meters' distance, Kurogane saw that the riders were shaking thick throwing spears in the air, and their faces had been decorated with strange, colorful patterns. In lieu of armour, they wore iridescent reptile skins with holes cut for arms and necks over their bare torsos. Resourceful, Kurogane thought approvingly. The skins weighed little compared to armour, but the hide was thick and glancing blows would fail to penetrate.
An arrow whizzed through the air towards his neck and Kurogane swung Souhi upwards, batting it out of the air almost perfunctorily, then he quickly traced the arrow back to a rider with an eagle pattern on his face. Luckily, Eagle Face was the only one clutching a bow. Good archers were troublesome; he'd deal with that bastard soon.
"Not bad for a muck-eyed lackey of an infidel," crowed an old, weathered-beaten man with matted hair as the riders encircled Kurogane, their dragon mounts stamping impatiently and chomping their wicked jaws. A necklace strung with suspiciously familiar incisors hung from the old man's neck, and his face was smeared with white markings like whiskers. Kurogane's estimation of the old geezer rose - the mutant fire bunnies were no joking matter.
The circle of riders around Kurogane tightened as the riders continued to circle Kurogane (a rather pathetic and fruitless effort to disorient him, he thought disdainfully.) "I hope you're ready to die, lackey! I know I am!!" chortled Bunny Geezer, jabbing his bunny tail-festooned spear in Kurogane's direction. The other riders all joined in, laughing with glee. Kurogane kept his expression impassive, but privately he found something disturbing about their behavior. An adrenaline-induced pre-battle rush was hardly unheard of, but these riders all shared a look in their eyes that seemed... disconnected. Unreal.
Then the riders charged, rushing at him from all directions, spears pointed forward. Hope those damn things aren't tipped with poison, Kurogane thought as he leapt upwards. His reflexes were excellent, but avoiding even a scratch with so many combatants was impossible.
Two of the riders were unable to halt their mounts in time and crashed into each other instead, spears intended for him impaling one another. Their beasts screamed in rage at being entangled and began to slash at each other with taloned feet, oblivious to the feeble protests from their wounded riders.
Kurogane controlled his downward fall, using his momentum to land upon the hindquarters of Eagle Face's mount. The animal reared back fiercely, but Kurogane had anticipated this and was already on the ground to the side of the dragon, out of range of its talons. Eagle Face lost his grip on the reins and fell off the animal. Kurogane sprang forward and drove Souhi into the man's bow arm, digging into the muscle of the shoulder until it was partially severed. The man's green eyes glazed over and he slumped to the ground. One pest out of the way.
Spears whistled through the air, and the ninja back flipped, neatly evading them, then he charged towards the throwers who were currently weaponless, slashing at their chests – but not deep enough to cut to their hearts. One of the men staggered as his blood spurted out, but he kept moving as if still capable of fighting. Damned curse! Kurogane thought as he sped towards several dismounted combatants. If not for Tomoyo's little parting gift, he could simply unleash Chiryuujinenbu and be done with these smelly psycho bandits.
Bunny Geezer met his charge with a block from his spear. Kurogane was surprised that Souhi did not cleave the wooden spear in two, perhaps the wood was a special desert variety. He tried to press forward rapidly to overwhelm the old man, but the Bunny Geezer had good footwork and managed to match his blows well. Then two more bandits joined Bunny Geezer and Kurogane found himself on the defensive, surrounded and backing away. It wasn't that the bandits were particularly skilled, with the exception of Bunny Geezer, but they lacked a healthy sense of self-preservation, pushing forward with risky lunges that left them exposed. Kurogane took advantage of one such lunge and took out one bandit's kneecap, then followed up with a quick slash at the other bandit's thigh.
"Not bad, not bad! But we'll win and feed your filthy body to our mounts, lackey," laughed Bunny Geezer, disturbingly unencumbered by the injuries dealt to his men.
"What do you have against Yasha?" growled Kurogane as he nimbly ducked under Bunny Geezer's spear.
Bunny Geezer's grass-green eyes flashed with the fervency of a zealot and he jabbed towards Kurogane's chest with the spear. "The gift from our goddess, we'll bring it back home walking over the corpses of Yasha's army!"
So it was the feather. What else could work the bandits up into such a fury, and possessed powers that could be attributed to a goddess? Still, deducing the source of the bandits' rage did him little good; it wasn't like he could explain that he wasn't the one who had originally stolen it but that he meant to steal it all the same. He'd just have to keep fighting until --
Kurogane's eyes went wide and he clapped a hand up to his neck. Sticky blood leaked over his hand where an arrow had grazed his neck. Surely he must have made a mistake, one of the other men had also been carrying a bow. Kurogane spun around.
Several paces away, Eagle Face smiled at him manically as he notched another arrow, blood gushing down his nearly ruined arm.
Impossible. Kurogane felt his hackles rise. That man had been in so much pain that he'd passed out. There was no way Eagle Face should have been able to regain consciousness and force that arm to move, yet several more arrows were rushing towards him. Kurogane batted them away cleanly and then dashed sideways to avoid a thrown spear.
There was a shuffling sound behind him, and Kurogane looked back quickly with sense of growing dread. All the men he'd injured – the ones slashed across the chest, the ones he'd dealt crippling blows on the knees and thighs – were moving towards him, their expressions just as eager and wild as Eagle Face's, as if their bodies didn't register their pain.
With a sudden epiphany, Kurogane understood that strange, glazed look in their eyes. They didn't feel pain or fear. They had hyped themselves up on so many drugs that their bodies weren't responding normally to the injuries he'd dealt. Kurogane gripped Souhi grimly as the injured men were joined by the still fresh riders he'd had yet to engage. Curse or no curse, he was going to have to kill to save his own life.
The bandits circled around him, and Kurogane stepped back with his right foot as he raised Souhi behind his head, tip pointed towards the earth. White tendrils of energy began to coalesce around the blade.
Ten lives. How much of his strength were ten lives worth? Kurogane stared sharply at the painted-smeared faces of the approaching men, wondering if the lives of bandits counted as much as the lives of warriors.
Static electricity crackled against Kurogane's clothes as the energy pulsed outwards from Souhi.
Would he be left gasping in the dirt, weak as a kitten after Chiryuujinenbu exploded through his enemies' bodies?
Swiftly, Kurogane stepped forward with his right foot, rotating Souhi into position in front of him. He braced the flat of the sword against his left hand as the blade started to vibrate violently, signaling that it was time to release the attack.
At this range, there was no chance that any of bandits would survive.
He wondered if he could die from too much loss of strength, and who would take care of that idiot mage if he never returned. He thought of Fai waiting and waiting, fake smile plastered on his face, eyes full of empty pain, hands clutching that little book of scraps.
Kurogane felt sick.
Thawck.
One of the bandits gasped wetly, his hand scrabbling vainly at the arrow neatly skewering his neck. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he wanted to protest, but then his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the ground wordlessly.
Thawck. Thawck.
Two more arrows sang through the air, and two more men fell to the ground, arrows buried in their hearts. The bandits whirled around to face their new attacker, and Kurogane swung Souhi upward, harmlessly releasing the energy into the sky instead.
The new combatant – a man wearing a hooded cloak – advanced forward, pausing only to release arrows periodically with deadly accuracy. Kurogane remained motionless as the bandits around him fell, knowing that to shift his position would interfere with his ally's targeting. A bandit to Kurogane's right grunted as his eye was pierced; he shivered violently before slumping over.
The cloak slipped from the archer's head, and sunlight glinted off his hair. Kurogane's pulse jumped: only one man in camp had hair like that.
Fai's face was completely expressionless as he continued firing rapidly, cutting down the bandits before they could even run a few steps. In a matter of seconds, only the old leader remained. Fai fixed flat eyes on him, and aimed.
"Demon," choked the old man as Fai released two arrows in quick succession into his stomach and chest. The old man thrust his staff into the ground with the last of his strength and leaned against it, wizened hands gripping the tail tassels like a vise. As Fai walked by him, the old man spat blood on Fai's boots. "I won't fall before you, demon, cursed one! The goddess take you!"
Fai did not stop or even turn to look at the old man. He kept walking towards Kurogane, his face still blank and his eyes looking through Kurogane, as if he did not see the ninja. He halted mechanically when he was almost on top of Kurogane. "Chibi-sama said I wear this cloak today. It's so early, but it's already hot. Too much sun for me, right? How was your sword practice?"
Kurogane stared at Fai in disbelief as the man continued to rattle off inanities, switching to his native tongue when his Japanese began to break down. He's shaking, Kurogane suddenly realized. But the other man continued speaking as if oblivious to his own shock. "Quiet," Kurogane growled, placing his hand over Fai's mouth. Fai stared at him in surprise but did not move.
Kurogane found himself drawing the shivering man into his arms, awkwardly running his hand along Fai's thin back and stroking that soft hair with the other. "Stupid idiot mage," he said softly, mildly surprised with himself; he'd never expected to be comforting anyone on a battlefield littered with bodies, and certainly not a grown man. Kurogane had witnessed breakdowns after battles before, but he'd always pointedly ignored them – he had little tolerance for weaklings. If a man wasn't prepared to kill and accept the consequences, he simply shouldn't get involved.
But Fai wasn't weak, and he hadn't had a choice. Because Fai had wanted to save him. Kurogane swallowed, his throat dry. He'd saved the mage on numerous occasions but had never once imagined Fai saving him; he'd never thought he would be the one to need rescuing.
"Sorry," Fai mumbled, pulling away as his shivering subsided. He drooped his head, his bangs covering his eyes. "It's just... been long time. Not ready."
"Don't apologize, dumbass," Kurogane growled, grabbing Fai's chin to gently tilt the man's face up. "And... thanks."
Fai smiled shakily at him, but there was genuine relief in the smile. "So Kuro-pin to me olasan!"
Kurogane dropped his hand. "I don't know what 'olazany' means, but the answer is hell no. And let's get out of here. Before these bodies start to stink more than they already do or more of the bastards come."
Kurogane pretended not to notice that Fai was walking much closer to him than usual as they headed back to the camp. He didn't mind so much – he did 'olazip' the mage, after all.
Hope you enjoyed! I hope the action scenes were well-written; we haven't had that much fighting the story so far, but it will logically continue to escalate when Kurogane and Fai are accepted into Yasha's army. But perhaps the comrade-bonding will balance it out for those of you who don't care for violence. (cough shameless excuse for me to write snuggling cough).
Much thanks for all the kind feedback:smiles: Your encouraging words mean a lot to me.
