Summary: In Infinity, the black and white tones of the world are broken up by splashes of red and gold.
Written for clampkink's festive event. I... turned it into an angst fest. lol.
dirty bloody gold
Most worlds they visit have a reason to celebrate. In Hanshin, bright fairy lights hang from bridges and loud music plays from the speakers in the malls. In Outo, glowing gold lights are tucked into trees and snow falls softly onto the ground, never really piling up to obstruct foot traffic. In the world with talking rabbits, the rabbits dance when the tornado dissipates. In Recourt, statues and fountains are enchanted to sing festive music whenever someone walks by; the trains are transformed to take the shape of gold-scaled dragons in the sky.
In Infinity, the black and white tones of the world are broken up by splashes of red and gold.
It happens one day a month into their stay, when they step out into the drab corridor and the fluorescent lights are not quite as coldly bluish as before. The children pause in the doorway; Sakura looks up curiously, her footsteps faltering.
Syaoran reaches to take her arm. The slightest contact makes her flinch; she jerks her gaze back to the tiled floor and faces forward, murmuring a low apology. (It isn't right, watching the princess do this.) They step out of the apartment and move away, footfalls measured and very faintly echoing off the concrete walls, and behind, Kurogane glances up at the lights. There is definitely a yellow tint where there wasn't before (blue to yellow like Fai's eye). He's instantly wary, wondering if this has anything to do with the cameras watching their every move.
Fai brushes past him, following the kids. Kurogane is left to lock up. After, he jogs down the corridor to the elevator, shoving the card key into the tight pocket of his jeans. The rest of their group waits silently past the open elevator doors, motionless. Only the new kid is watching him; Fai and Sakura have their attentions planted elsewhere, though the princess, at least, attempts a weak smile when he steps into the little space with them.
(Kurogane doesn't like elevators. He can't see where they're going, what's going on outside these walls. There are cameras watching them in the ceiling.)
When the doors close, he sees colors on them that weren't there last night. Kurogane frowns. It's a poster of gold ribbons looping around red words, the shades so unfamiliar here that they burn into his eyes, even if the colors aren't vivid by any standards. Season's Greetings.
No one looks at the poster on the door. Even Kurogane can't bring himself to acknowledge it, because it's like a slap in the face. It brings to mind the festivals on the other worlds, back when Fai still had his stupid grins and the princess blushed and reached hesitantly toward the kid. It brings to mind colorful gifts and carefully-unfolded wrapping paper, little trinkets the children exchanged, and the pout Fai wore when he found out that Kurogane wasn't going to give anyone presents at all.
Fai had given him a dog bone, and then some wine. Plenty of wine. They'd split the booze between them over the course of several nights, drinking themselves mellow and drinking their guards down.
In Infinity, they do not share wine. Kurogane gives some of his to the kid, who falls asleep instead of trying to fight with ladles. There are no cheerful smiles, no soft gazes, and Fai is sullen, refusing to feed, refusing to come back alive. (Maybe Kurogane has killed him, but he refuses to think of it that way.)
The tension in the elevator breaks when the doors finally slide open, like rain in summer's heat. There are no more reminders of happier times—
Until there is, in the gold streamers stretched across the lobby of the ground floor, too bright in the midst of white and black. Kurogane sighs, steps out of the elevator. The rest troop out behind him like soldiers in a robot army.
There aren't just gold streamers in their apartment building. On the streets, there is tinsel tucked into quiet corners, around lampposts and telephone booths, and there are red ornaments hanging from the doors of shops. The arena itself is still black and white, but there are colors in its cracks, red ribbons on metal door handles and golds lining the reception desk.
Everywhere they look, there are colors, bright shades that the people themselves do not seem to wear. But the decorations have gone up overnight through the world, and it is unnerving, uncomfortable. They don't need to be reminded of happier times. (Do they?) All Kurogane can think about is the gold of Fai's eye, the one time he sliced into his finger in the kitchen because Fai no longer cooks, and someone has to make food for the kids.
(Kurogane is good with weapons and sharps. Food handling, not so much.)
Red should have reminded Kurogane of Nihon, where it symbolizes luck and happiness. There are red robes and red flowers in Tomoyo's garden, and Kurogane knows his eyes are red. What he thinks of, though, when he sees that blood-red hue, are the angry scars on his back. They still hurt, worlds away from acid rain, though he won't admit that they do. He thinks of the blood Fai won't drink, wonders what it'll take to make the wizard finally feed.
Kurogane has plenty of blood. He doesn't have as much good blood between himself and Fai.
(He misses those days.)
There isn't much else they can do but soldier on through these invasive reminders of times long past. The princess isn't happy anymore, and Fai hasn't spoken to him in a long time. Kurogane has tried breaching the gap. His words are water off a duck's back, and he doesn't know how else to reach the idiot. (But the one thing he knows is that Fai cannot die. He won't let Fai die.)
So, Kurogane keeps his head up and glowers at the red and gold. Maybe they'll help return the old times to him somehow.
A/N: ... Merry Christmas?