Heya all! I'm sorry it's been a while between updates. Have been working on a new book! More on that in the author's notes below. In the meantime, I hope you like the next Piffle chapter, and don't mind the typos if you find them (I don't know if this has even been proofread, omg)
Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me. My writing does, though.
in Piffle, we play Pretend
Chapter 11: Love Is
The video, according to Tomoyo, turned out according to plan.
First, they'd recorded the lullaby in one of Piffle Princess's studios: voices and musical instruments for the edition to go on sale. Then, Tomoyo and her crew had taken them out to various locations around Piffle World, dressed them up in various things, and there had been makeup artists, cameras, and a great many people watching them do the same things on repeat.
Kurogane had been relieved when it was all over, except Tomoyo had arranged for them to perform at several locations to boost sales, and all of it had eaten into a great amount of their time.
Kurogane did not like performing. This was not to say that he did not enjoy the music. Weeks of singing the same thing had rubbed off on him, especially when Fai worked time in to practice harmonizing with the kids, and he'd done a very decent job with it. Listening to their voices meld together raised the hairs on his skin. When Fai'd asked him to join in, easy smile playing on his mouth, Kurogane had not taken long to agree.
The music video, on the other hand, had been embarrassing. Fai and the kids loved it. Kurogane had thought it overtly cheesy when Tomoyo first showed them the video storyboard: a group of people moving to a new place and thinking of home. Both Mokona and Opi featured alongside them in the vignetted, yellow-toned video, and Fai had worn a button-down shirt with his sleeves folded up. Kurogane had not been able to take his eyes off him.
Tomoyo had teased him. Kurogane had not been happy.
Yuuko, on the other hand, had been delighted with the video. They'd watched as she'd received the copy of it on a shiny disc, and waited as she played the entire thing, on full volume and full screen. Then she'd looked knowingly at all of them, Kurogane especially, and Kurogane had itched to wipe that smug smile off her face.
"The debt for the carpet has been paid," Yuuko had said.
(That was the singular redeeming thing about that call. The less Kurogane saw of that witch, the better off he'd be. )
It had been strange, too, watching the music video air on TV. They'd seen it a number of times, when Tomoyo had her assistants play the bits and pieces out for them, choppy before it was streamlined. When it was finalized, Tomoyo had showed it to them again, asking how they wanted their names to be written in the credits. Syaoran had decided that on their behalf.
When it finally made its debut on TV, they sang along with the song as it played, and Kurogane had to admit that the video made Fai more graceful than he already was. On it, Fai played his kokyu, while Kurogane hung around at the back, sometimes on the borrowed drums, sometimes standing around with Syaoran and Sakura. There were plenty of scenes with Mokona, Opi and the kids, doing all sorts of domestic things together in a way that (Tomoyo assured them) would melt the hearts of the population.
So, their video had been on TV for a week, it was their final public performance, and Kurogane couldn't wait to see it all end.
They were on a bright-lit stage, one band in a string of many others. Like all the other times they'd performed, Fai and Sakura were right in front, waving at the dense, shadowy crowd in the hugest hall they'd been in yet, and the four of them weren't enough to fill the entire stage.
For his part, Kurogane was comfortable sitting behind the drums. It gave him a good view of everyone, enough to protect them with, and Tomoyo had said that he just didn't have the stage presence to be put in front. Which suited him perfectly fine.
Fai slanted him a look, a signal to begin. In response, Kurogane tapped out the beginning beats of Homeward Bound, a rhythm that he understood as easily as the beat of a fight. The wizard had been mildly dubious about his musical ability, at first, and damn it if Kurogane had even wanted to learn how to sing. But that had been then, and he took them into a smooth, quick cadence now, that had Fai's kokyu singing in time to his drumbeats.
It was a different kind of sparring between him and Fai, one that was predictable and practiced and intimate all the same, even as their voices carried over the instruments, blending like they'd done every day for the past month. His heart reverberated along to the bass drum, and he wondered if the rest of them felt it as well.
"On this dark night when I'm all alone, The stars shine bright and I hold my heart and pray."
The crowd was singing along with them, Kurogane realized, a low, powerful sea of voices that was stunning in its presence. Their video had only been airing on TV for a week, and yet.
Somehow, Tomoyo's "it's shooting up the charts!" had never quite registered with them as anything quite like this.
Fai stepped right up to the edge of the stage, waving his arms along to the beat, and the crowd roared, raised their arms in return, a sea of singing, waving arms. It reminded Kurogane of tall grass swaying in the breeze, pale in the high-ceilinged hall.
He flicked his eyes up to look at the rest of them occasionally, catching the golden glint of Fai's hair, the slow wag of Opi's tail as it rode on Sakura's shoulders, tangling in the sequins of her outfit. Syaoran hung back with Mokona, closest to Kurogane, solemn as he watched the crowd and Sakura. He'd loosened up enough now to hold his arms out so Mokona could walk along them, and Fai had been very proud of him for that. Even if Syaoran couldn't move fluidly in a dance, he could interact with Mokona, and Fai'd said that would make all the difference on stage.
When they drew to the first instrumental section of the song, Fai took the time to introduce all of them. Kurogane watched as he sauntered over, glitter on his cheeks and thick lines of black around his eyes, fingers sliding over the strings of his bow as he said, "And this grumpy dog here is Kuro-tan. He hasn't been playing the drums for very long, did you know? He's very good, isn't he?"
The crowd roared again. Fai grinned at him, cheeks flushed, and he stalked back to the front of the stage so they could continue with the next lines of the song.
What Kurogane didn't expect was for Sakura to double back on the stage midway, grabbing Syaoran by his hands and leading him into a dance. They weren't bad at it, actually. Kurogane had never seen them dance before, but they fell into this as though they'd learnt it together in a past life—and maybe they had.
Fai turned around, his raised eyebrows the only sign of his surprise, and met Kurogane's eyes. They were still singing, still playing, so Kurogane gave a tiny shrug, focused on his drums because one of them had to.
The crowd loved the dance. They cheered; Mokona danced onto Sakura's arms and back to Syaoran's, and when they finally broke apart, Fai walked along the stage, playing to the crowd, before he turned around, walked up to Kurogane, and played at him, thin lips quirked in a mischievous smile.
Kurogane had nothing to say to that. He smirked, though, drummed right back at Fai, and Fai's smile grew delighted just as he spun on his heels and walked away.
When the song drew to a close, they stood up and bowed, and cleared the stage. The kids hurried over to help with the drums when the lights dimmed, and Fai had to catch Syaoran before he tripped on the cords snaking across the stage.
"You all did great," Fai said to the kids, kokyu tucked beneath his arm as he ushered them past the stage-side curtains.
Backstage, it was quieter, the sounds of the crowd and the next band making their entrance muffled ever so slightly. They wove their way past various white walls and waiting bands, slipped into the dressing suite that had been labeled as theirs for the night. Once the door shut behind them, Mokona took the drum set and the kokyu back into storage, and they sank into chairs around the room, eyes still bright from the rush of adrenaline.
"Sakura-chan, Syaoran-kun! Did you learn that dance in Clow Country?" Fai asked, leaning forward. "Both of you danced very well!"
Sakura wrinkled her forehead, no answer falling from her open mouth, and Syaoran nodded hesitantly.
"We did," the boy said. He glanced at the princess, blushed, and stuttered, "Well, it was a traditional folk dance, so everyone had to learn it."
"I don't... remember learning it," Sakura added quietly. She looked to Fai for help, and Mokona hopped onto her lap.
"Yuuko says it's 'memories of the body'," the white thing said. "Sakura must have done it in the past, so Sakura's body remembers it."
Maybe that made sense, and maybe it didn't. Kurogane thought it did where it came to fighting—he didn't have to think for his body to move the way it did, attacking and dodging and flowing across the battlefield. Fai probably felt the same.
He sat out of the ensuing discussion, standing up and pacing the dressing suite because as much as he wanted it to be over, their segment of the concert had been way too short, and his limbs buzzed with restless energy, a rhythm in his blood that still had yet to abate. It was all white in here, a sharp, bleak contrast to the colored lights and shadows on the stage, and it felt sterile, like a hospital.
"What's wrong, Kuro-rin?"
He glanced at Fai, who had pulled out a bag of wipes and was distributing it between the kids. Fai, himself, had not used any of it. In this light, there was an excess of cosmetics on his face, all eyeliner and lipstick and powder, and through the mirror, Kurogane saw the same on his own face.
"Waiting to go already," he told the wizard.
"Tomoyo-chan says she'll come around soon," Fai answered. "We do have to return the drums, you know."
"Tch."
The wizard set the bag down, got to his feet, and wandered over to sling an arm around Kurogane's shoulders. Kurogane cocked an eyebrow. Fai hadn't done this in a while, not since they'd begun whatever it was between them, and this felt welcome and familiar, like... a memory.
"What," Kurogane said.
"You look odd with all that on your face," Fai told him, grinning wide.
Kurogane rolled his eyes. He stalked across the room to pull wipes from the bag Fai'd left, and returned to the idiot, grabbing his chin so he could wipe the awful stuff off his face.
"I can do that myself," Fai protested. He squirmed, leaving streaks of powder on Kurogane's fingers, and Kurogane clicked his tongue, scrubbed at his face with wet fabric so Fai was forced to scrunch his eyes shut. "Are you turning a daddy on me as well?"
He stilled at that, staring at the idiot in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "You're an idiot."
Fai beamed up at him. "Kuro-daddy doesn't think so, does he?"
"I'm not your 'daddy'," Kurogane muttered, glaring. On impulse, because he could, because it wasn't like the kids didn't know, he ducked his head, pressing his mouth to Fai's makeup-smeared lips because there was nothing 'daddy' about this.
When he pulled away, the room was deathly silent, and Fai had frozen in his grasp.
"What," Kurogane snapped at the kids, whose eyes had grown saucer-round.
Mokona was the first to move. She hopped onto Syaoran's shoulder, paw to her mouth, and said, "When Daddy loves Mommy a lot—"
Kurogane turned and reached for her, swearing. "Who said anything about that," he spluttered, heat surging into his cheeks.
Sakura opened her mouth to answer, thought better of it, and shut her mouth. By the time Kurogane looked back at Fai, the wizard had a bright, brittle grin on his face. It was painful to look at.
"Kuro-pon sure loves playing jokes on all of us, doesn't he?" Fai said.
Kurogane wanted to hit him in that instant. But he knew Fai, and Fai couldn't stand the thought of something like love, so he snorted and turned away, grabbing wet wipes for himself so he could clean the chemicals off his face. To help dissipate the sudden tension, he threw the bag of wipes at Fai. Fai caught it, made a face, and pulled wipes out for himself.
"Sakura-chan, catch!" Fai said, tossing the bag over to the princess. She caught it with a yelp. Fai cheered, announced, "Now, throw it to Syaoran-kun! You can't hold it for longer than three seconds! Throw it to Moko-chan too!"
It turned into some sort of catching game. By the time Tomoyo knocked and stuck her head in, there were no traces of botched kisses or awkward silences left, only excited squawking as Fai held Syaoran in front of himself, trying not to accept the bag of wipes again.
Kurogane looked at Tomoyo, gave a long-suffering sigh.
"You guys were great out there," she said.
"Yeah, well." Kurogane huffed. He folded his arms together, looked back at the kids and Fai, who had stopped their horsing around to greet Tomoyo. "We're just waiting to return the drums."
"Nothing good to say, Kurogane?" Tomoyo grinned, stepped inside and shut the door behind her. "And that's the last of the public performances we agreed on."
"I really enjoyed it," Sakura said, pink-cheeked and eager, and Tomoyo brightened at her enthusiasm. "Thank you so much for the opportunity, Tomoyo-san!"
"So did I," Syaoran said. "We really appreciate it."
Tomoyo smiled. "What about the rest of you?"
"Mokona had fun!"
"I'm sure Opi liked it as well," Fai said, looking towards the blinking creature around Sakura's neck. Opi yawned. "We weren't sure if it was a good idea to bring it along, but it's been fine at the other performances so far."
"So I saw," Tomoyo agreed. "What will your plans be now?"
"Sakura-chan and I will start a bakery," Fai said. "Syaoran-kun and Kuro-rin will probably do odd jobs around..."
Fai looked over reluctantly. Kurogane's heart fumbled when their eyes met, and Fai looked away before he could start to speak.
"We'll be working on the dragonflies," Kurogane said. "One more to go."
"You've certainly got a momentum going with them!" Tomoyo said, beaming. "I'd love to film Sakura with the dragonflies sometime—both during the construction, and in the race. What do you think?"
"I'd love to help," Sakura answered brightly. Kurogane didn't expect any less, and he didn't really mind, if it meant that this Tomoyo would be around so he could protect her.
(He still hadn't really forgiven his princess, but Daidouji Tomoyo had done him no wrong.)
"I'm glad to hear that," Tomoyo answered, heading over to clasp Sakura's hands. "If the rest of you require jobs, feel free to contact me. I'll do my best to accommodate your requests."
Fai and the kids thanked her in a chorus, and Mokona spat the drum set out so Tomoyo could have it back.
"I'll never cease to be amazed by you," she told the white thing, reaching out so Mokona could hop into her hands. "Just leave the set here. I'll have someone collect it later."
Kurogane followed her out when she finally left the dressing suite.
"How's the other Tomoyo doing?" he muttered, glancing at the other singers lingering around the backstage corridor, all made-up with strong colors and sprayed-solid hair. The entire place smelled like cosmetics and hair chemicals and who knew what else, and Kurogane was tired of it.
Tomoyo turned back to him, smiled softly. "She says she misses you," she replied. "But she is still glad you're on this journey."
"I'm not going home anytime soon, am I?"
"I'm afraid not."
He sighed, shrugged. It didn't matter as much anymore, going home. There were people he had to protect on this journey, idiots he had to stop from doing stupid things, and returning was a priority that he'd unconsciously pushed further and further down, until he couldn't see it anymore, when he tried to look for it.
Tomoyo had sent him away, no longer needing him... and there was a place for him here with Fai and the kids. Here, he made himself useful, teaching Syaoran and Sakura how to fight, keeping the white thing away from their booze, and Fai—
"I was warned that you might be angry about it," Tomoyo said. She'd led them to a refreshments area, where there was bottled water aplenty, and she handed one to him. "But you don't seem to be."
Kurogane shrugged again.
"How is Fai?" Tomoyo asked.
"Do you have to keep talking about him?" he muttered. It wasn't enough that he ran into constant trouble with the wizard—Tomoyo, even Sakura, had to ask about him—but at least he'd got some pictures of Fai on the phone now, that Sakura had shown him how to secret away. She'd even complimented him on the pictures, the brat.
Tomoyo grinned at him. "Your princess wants to know."
He glared at her then, felt a surge of angry heat in his chest. "She sent me away, and now she wants to know about that idiot?"
"She wanted to know about Syaoran and Sakura too, of course. But I didn't need to ask you about them."
He grumbled beneath his breath. Tomoyo was Tomoyo in any world, and she had her ways of finding things out. "None of your business," he said anyway. (He didn't know how they were, now that he'd kissed the idiot and Fai was quite possibly angry with him again.)
"I do have Fai coming in for more shoots, though. Dresses. He's said he doesn't mind trying them on."
Kurogane remembered Fai in dresses. He'd worn one once, worlds back at a fair, and he hadn't looked half-bad in it. Here, though, there was one thing that Kurogane hadn't been able to get a picture of Fai in. He wanted—
"He has this yukata," he said haltingly. When she raised her eyebrows, he clarified, "Kind of like a robe. Blue with birds. You might want to see it."
Her dark eyes gleamed. "Are there any others that might interest me?"
"Just that," he muttered. "But make sure he wears it the right way. Left over right."
"Left over right," Tomoyo echoed, and nodded. "Okay. You seem to know a lot about it."
He turned away, clicked his tongue so he didn't have to explain the heat on his cheeks.
She chucked lowly. They didn't say a word, though, merely stood with the refreshments sipping water, until other groups began to swarm in, grabbing plastic bottles from the cabinets.
"I'll get in touch with Fai," Tomoyo said at length, turning to the exit. "Do you want a copy of those pictures? The... yu-ka-ta?"
Kurogane rolled his shoulders. "I don't care," he said.
"All right, then." The way she smiled meant she'd seen straight through him, and she didn't say a word about it. Maybe he was a little bit grateful for that. "I'll drop by sometime. Fai's cakes really are something!"
"It's just sweet crap," he said.
"For once, Kurogane," Tomoyo sighed. "Won't you say it's nice? Just to make him happy?"
He scrunched his face up, incredulous. "I'm not gonna lie to him just for that."
"It's not so much the fact of the matter," she told him disapprovingly. "Sometimes, feelings are more important."
But a lie was a lie, and he'd be damned before he lied to the idiot. Tomoyo's words struck a chord in him, however. Did he have the power to make Fai happy? If he did, would he?
—
"So," Fai muttered later, when the door was shut behind them, and it was the three of them in the bathroom again. The kids were in bed, and it was quiet out. Like it always did, their voices bounced off the linoleum and the bathroom walls, loud for the enclosed space. "What were you thinking, Kuro-tan? You shouldn't have done that."
Kurogane shrugged out of his clothes, replaced Opi on his shoulder. "Kiss you? It's not like they don't already know."
"They don't know," Fai said flatly. "And you shouldn't mislead them."
He was sure he heard right. "Mislead? You think that's misleading them?"
Fai narrowed his eyes, followed him under the spray of the shower, and pulled the curtains shut. "I don't see what else it can be."
"How about telling them the truth? It's not like we haven't done that before," Kurogane said, annoyed.
"Kisses are supposed to be romantic," Fai answered slowly, as though he were a child struggling to understand. "Kisses are supposed to be for people in love, aren't they? We shouldn't give the children the wrong impression."
"They already know, damn it. You're the only one who doesn't."
He watched as Fai turned to him, eyebrows drawn low. "What's that supposed to mean? No, don't tell me."
"It means I—"
"Shut up, Kuro-tan." Fai turned his back on him, ducked his head down so the shower streamed through his hair, turning it dark and limp. "You know as well as I do that none of this is real. Which means we shouldn't have the children see it and let them think it's real."
"You think I was pretending?" he asked, incredulous. "I've never been pretending, you idiot."
"I..." Fai looked at him with a dubious frown, as though he thought Kurogane was sick. "You have to be mistaken."
And this was offensive, that Fai dared reject him like that, when he'd not been lying through any of this. Kurogane gritted his teeth, kept his arms by his sides so he wouldn't punch the idiot. "The hell. How can you see this for so long and not know it?"
Kurogane set Opi on the showerhead when he ducked beneath it, just so the creature didn't have to deal with Fai being an idiot as well. Fai remained silent, lathering himself up with soap.
"You have to be kidding," the wizard said finally. He wasn't looking up, though, and Kurogane had no idea what was going through that empty head of his.
"What's this to you, then?" Kurogane blurted, because he needed to fill the silence, because he was tired of Fai trying to pretend, when this involved both of them, not just Fai alone. "What's love to you?"
"I don't have to answer that."
"Yes, you do. Damn you."
"Love is a fickle thing," Fai said, his eyes dull when he glanced at Kurogane. "Roses and wine and moonlit walks on the beach. Or so I've read."
"How can you even spout that crap?"
"Do you know any better, then?" The look in Fai's eyes gained a defiant, icy edge, and he lifted his chin. "What's love to you?"
In the pattering hot spray, Kurogane opened his mouth, found that he had no one answer for it. Love was his mother and father, laughing over silly things at the dinner table. Love was his father, sliding the bedroom door quietly shut and telling Youou not to bother his mother. Love was his mother, proudly showing Youou the family sword, recounting the fights his father had been in.
Love was hair kisses, and quiet hands, and mouths on foreheads and trust and good smiles and and and—
His throat was tight. He had to clear it twice before he could speak. "It's something important. Something that lasts a long time."
"And this isn't it," Fai said, his voice deceptively light.
"You're wrong," Kurogane said. "I told you, I—"
"Don't even finish that sentence," Fai said sharply. "We're both idiots, Kuro-rin. We don't have to become bigger idiots."
Kurogane looked at him, this pale sliver of a man, whose hair was golder and finer than anyone he'd ever seen, whose eyes... "You're the one who's an idiot," he muttered, stepping back into the spray. "You have to be blind—"
"I'd rather be blind."
"The fuck is wrong with you?" Kurogane snapped, nostrils flaring, hands twitching with the urge to grab Fai and shake him. But that wouldn't work, not right now, and he didn't know what else he could do. None of this was the sort of love his parents had, and he felt like a failure, all over again.
Make Fai happy, Tomoyo had said.
If he did, would Fai realize it? Would there be love?
"Everything is wrong with me," Fai hissed, eyes flashing. "You know what this is. It's a sham. You know why I'm here. Don't you dare involve the children in this."
He rounded on Fai then, his chest so tight he wanted to send his fist through the wall. He wanted to punch Fai, to do something other than tiptoe around him.
Instead, he grabbed Fai's thin arms, yanked him close and kissed him hard, so Fai stiffened against him. He pulled away a second later, glaring. "Do you think this isn't real?" he muttered.
"Of course it isn't." Fai shook him off. He wiped his mouth off on his shoulder. "Stop this. You know as well as I do—"
"You know as well as I do that this is fucking real, damn it," Kurogane spat, whirling back so he didn't have to look at Fai. "Look at this. Look at us."
"All I see is someone I will kill."
It stung.
Fai did not meet his eyes for the rest of the shower. He edged past Kurogane, took the soap back, and lathered it up. Kurogane glared at the phoenix on his back.
Do something, he told it. Your master is an idiot.
But the bird didn't move, and on top of the showerhead, Opi opened its mouth unhappily.
He spent another long stretch glowering at the idiot and his pets, too full of things he felt, that he couldn't speak, that would only fall on deaf ears.
He didn't touch Fai that night, either, and he thought Fai might've been happier for it. It didn't improve his mood any.
—
They spent the whole of the next morning avoiding each other, until Sakura approached Kurogane out on the roof, sheets of paper in hand.
"The wizard can do it," he said, ducking his head so he didn't have to meet her hopeful gaze. "Did you ask him?"
She pursed her lips then, crouched down next to him, where he was adjusting the lights on Syaoran's dragonfly. "It was last night, wasn't it?" she asked quietly.
Kurogane blew out a sigh. "I should punch him," he said. "That'll solve all our problems."
"It won't solve anything."
He barked a laugh. "Maybe it won't, but at least he'll be sorry about it."
The princess sent him a solemn look, one wise enough to make him feel somewhat ashamed. "We need some stands for our cakes, Kurogane-san. The sooner we can get that done, the sooner we'll be able to open our bakery."
"Don't you need permits, that kind of thing?" he asked, sliding a wrench back into his toolkit. "Not just the stand?"
"Syaoran-kun got us the permits. Fai-san is working on the signboard now," Sakura said. Kurogane knew he only had a few bricks left of his resistance, before it gave out completely beneath her doe-eyed look. He sucked a deep breath, wished the idiot weren't quite such an idiot. "These are the sketches for the stands, and... I can't read them."
He took the sheets, scanned through them. Pencil lines picked out the bare details of a few bakery stand designs, lightly drawn with parts hastily erased, and familiar writing crept around the edges of the designs, no more readable to him than they were to Sakura.
The stands, themselves, seemed functional enough: rectangular boards on a rectangular base, providing access to food from all sides of the construct. Each stand was something Kurogane could make in less than an hour, and another half a day if they wanted them sanded and painted.
"I don't know the details," he said, dubious. "What if he wants to make them by himself?"
"I'm sure he'll be really happy if you made it for him," Sakura said. "Actually, why don't I find out what the words mean... and then Syaoran-kun and I can distract him. If we take him away for a bit, do you think...?"
And damn him to all hell, because he fell for it. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to see Fai's face light up—because of him—until it was an incessant gnawing in his gut that wouldn't abate.
(He was hopeless now, wasn't he?)
Kurogane wiped the sweat off his forehead, returned the plans. "Fine. You're sure he wants this."
She nodded firmly. "Thank you, Kurogane-san. I'll get them translated."
"Tch. Why're you thanking me?"
"Because it's something I've wanted as well," the princess admitted. "Fai-san and I have been talking about the bakery for a while, now. He really liked the cooking magazines we got him, you know."
"Yeah, I know."
Fai had been folding page corners on those magazines and baking little test batches of cakes, even after Tomoyo's visit with her guards. He'd had something different for dessert every night, asking the kids for their opinions, and right now, he was in the process of making treats that river gods like Opi would like, but which would also be nutritious for them.
It was pointless and ridiculous and entirely Fai, and Kurogane couldn't fault him for it.
"So, thank you," the princess said, bowing quickly.
He grinned, reached out to ruffle her hair. "Hurry up with those translations. I don't have all day."
Sakura beamed.
—
With Fai and the kids gone, and with only Opi to accompany him through the day, Kurogane had little trouble with the stands. The only real inconvenience he'd encountered was going out to buy the materials at the same time the kids flew out, since all their money was on the one cash card, and there was no way to buy anything with the card without Fai and the kids missing it.
In the end, Syaoran had borrowed the card from Fai and met up with Kurogane in secret, in the building next to the Canyon Complex. There were no building materials in the Complex itself, and a miserable range of stationery besides, so they'd found themselves all in the same building, Kurogane ducking out of sight from Fai, Sakura and Mokona, and Syaoran breaking out in cold sweat from the stress of it all.
The boy had heaved a sigh when Kurogane strapped the materials onto his dragonfly and flew off, and Kurogane thought to teach him how to calm himself better. (It wasn't a skill he'd previously thought useful for the boy.)
Back on the roof, he'd unloaded, spent the first hour cutting up all his wood pieces, and the next hour putting the stands together. Opi had watched from a bucket nearby, making faces at him that he still couldn't understand.
It took him longer to saw the remaining wood into cat shapes, and a bit more time to get everything painted.
By the time he was done, the paint-slick stands were drying on newspapers, and Kurogane returned to the dragonflies for more modifications, smears of paint on his arms.
Sakura had not specified when they'd be back. It was just as well, since it gave him leeway to finish the stands, and it wasn't as though Kurogane couldn't make food for himself if he was hungry.
Still, it was evening when they returned. Kurogane heard the approach of their engines first, sat back against his dragonfly so he could watch them land. Fai's machine was crammed full of materials, while Sakura sat with Syaoran, following close behind. Kurogane wasn't looking at them, though. Fai's eyes had swept over him to the stands by the camper, and he saw the way those eyes grew wide, even as Fai landed next to the stands.
He rose reluctantly to his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets so he could hide the nervous twitch of his fingers. Fai had left his dragonfly, walking cautiously towards the stands as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Kurogane followed.
The kids hung back. Kurogane could feel the delight radiating off Sakura, but his eyes were glued to Fai, Fai whose eyes were huge and blue, roving all over the the shelves and the decorative tops of the displays.
"Don't touch it," Kurogane said. "The paint's not dry yet."
Fai met his eyes then, over the sky-blue roof of a stand, and his cheeks were flushed, mouth half-open like he still thought he was in a dream.
"I'll punch you if you tell me it's the wrong color," Kurogane said.
Fai's throat worked. He licked his lips, glanced at the stands and back up, and his mouth quirked into a half-smile. "There could be more detail with the paint," he said.
But there was no acidity to his tone, only a warm, intent wonder in his eyes that made Kurogane swallow hard, made his chest feel too full, and he didn't know what to do with any of it.
"Damn you," Kurogane muttered. He took a step closer.
Fai's gaze dropped to his mouth, and suddenly he was looking away, backing away. "I, I should get dinner ready. Don't start repainting now," he chirped, retreating into the camper faster than any of them could blink.
Kurogane breathed out, slow and steady, felt the tightness in his ribs ease.
"I think that was a success," Sakura said.
He blinked, looked over at the kids. "You think so?"
The princess hurried over with a great smile. "The stands are beautiful! I think Fai-san really loved them," she whispered, her eyes glimmering in the sunset. "So I think it all worked!"
"Yeah." And because both the princess and the kid deserved it, "Thanks."
They beamed at him. He wasn't sure if he was truly forgiven, but Fai had glowed, and he had looked breathlessly beautiful in that moment.
Kurogane left the kids to finish up work on his dragonfly. They headed into the camper with the things they'd bought, and he dragged his feet, uncertain about what he could say to Fai now, whether Fai would really speak to him again. In the end, he went in anyway, stomach grumbling, hands dark with traces of motor grease.
The table was set for six. Kurogane washed his hands, set Opi down on its spot, and waited by the entryway while the rest of them dished their dinners first.
"There's not going to be any left for you if you stand there all night, Kuro-pon," Fai said, slanting him a pointed look.
His stomach flipped. "Not like I'm going to do that," he answered. "Got better things to do."
"Oh? Long things?"
And they were back on this again, Fai's preferred taunt after he'd returned with Opi, and Yuuko had rejected it. Kurogane wasn't sure what the idiot meant, this time. "You think?" he said.
"I think you're very fond of long things," Fai answered, spooning food onto his plate.
At the table, Syaoran coughed violently, banging on his chest to dislodge whatever he'd choked on, and Sakura frowned at both of them.
"I think you should have this discussion elsewhere," she said crossly. She set her plate down. "This isn't the first time you made Syaoran-kun choke on something."
"I'm very sorry, Syaoran-kun," Fai said, walking over to thump the boy on the chest. "I'll make sure it's Kuro-rin who chokes on something the next time."
Their gazes locked. Fai's eyes were dark and hazy, and it sent a coil of heat straight through Kurogane's gut.
"Long things," Mokona cheered.
Syaoran broke into another fit of coughing.
—
When Kurogane finally pushed the bedroom door open, it was late, and the bed was strewn with paper of all colors and sizes. He frowned at the blond lying in the middle of it, shut the door. "What're you doing?"
"Loyalty cards," Fai replied. He looked up with a tiny smile, dragging over another sheet. "They'll get us a great many return customers in no time, you know. I was thinking about cutting out shapes, that'll make the cards really pretty—"
"But why are you doing this on the bed?" He walked over to his side, set Opi's bowl down, and pushed a few sheets away so he could get beneath the covers. "Beds aren't made for this sort of thing."
"Are beds made for long things, then?" Fai's smile grew wider. His eyes were full of promise, then, and Kurogane understood that he was forgiven. Would he be content with just sex between them, even now?
"No choking," he said.
The wizard pulled a pink sheet towards himself, murmured so quietly that Kurogane almost missed it, "You're fond of having someone choke on you."
He couldn't deny that, so he looked away, heat creeping up his cheeks.
"We bought some paper cutters," Fai said, reaching down next to him. A plastic bag rustled, and he pulled two clear boxes out, each with a pastel-blue tool inside, and a simple shape printed on top. "This lets us cut holes out of papers! So, we'll be able to make patterns on our loyalty cards with them. The cat really looks like the one on the sign, don't you think?"
"Yeah," Kurogane said. Fai's shirt had ridden up, exposing a sliver of black-inked skin. "Why didn't you have the bakery phoenix-themed? You like phoenixes."
The wizard shrugged. "I do not like phoenixes, Kuro-pii. I just happen to have one."
He thought about asking what connection the phoenix had with Fai's Ashura, but this peace between them was still too new, so he shoved it back. Instead, he deposited Opi into its bowl, reached over to Fai's nightstand for his comic.
"What's that one about?" Fai asked without looking over his shoulder.
"Kids racing on dragonflies. Why aren't you wearing those glasses?"
Fai looked at him, this time. "Does it matter to you?"
"Thought you see more clearly with them."
"I'm not dependent on them." After a pause, "Do you like them?"
He shrugged, even though Fai's eyes were on the pair of scissors he'd fished out from somewhere. "They're decent."
"Coming from you, that's high praise." When Kurogane didn't answer, Fai continued, "Have you thought about what you're giving Yuuko-san? As it is, you're late."
Kurogane pursed his lips, looked at the comic in his hands. There was something he didn't need at all, and the witch... "Think she'll like that book? The one with all the sex?"
Fai gave a huff of laughter, surprised, and sat up. "Sex? She's a powerful witch, and you want to give her a book about sex?"
He thought about it for a bit. "She might get offended. She's evil. But that means she'll like it, doesn't it?"
"How many times have you read that book?" Fai said with barely-suppressed laughter. It was in the glitter of his eyes, the curve of his mouth. "Are you very sure you haven't dirtied it?"
"Idiot!" He punched Fai's shoulder, flushing. "I haven't done anything with it!"
"Ow! And here I thought you'd have."
Why would he, when he had Fai?
"I'm not some... some pervert," Kurogane muttered. "I just read it once."
Fai raised an eyebrow, did not comment. "Have you read it to Moko-chan? She wanted to know what it's about, you remember."
"No damn way I'm reading it to her. 'Sides, she's forgotten about it."
"She'll remember it when you give it to the witch."
"Too bad. She can ask the witch to read it."
"She'll tell the witch you promised to read it to her." They were silent for a moment, contemplating that. "That does not bode well for you."
"Tch. You were the one who promised to read it. Even the kids read it."
Fai winced. "I'm sure they didn't need that."
"You think?" Kurogane snorted, laid back in bed. "Anyway, I'm not digging up some rock for the witch. The kid's took too long to grind down."
Syaoran's trapped-butterfly amber had taken days and many sheets of sandpaper to polish, and Kurogane would much rather do something else than pay a price like that.
"What about shoes? Sakura-chan made her a dress. Moko-chan accepted the glasses, so shoes to match that outfit wouldn't be a bad choice."
Kurogane shrugged. "Don't know her size."
"Do you think feet sizes are something women care about?" Fai tilted his head, frowning. "Tomoyo-chan said women don't like being asked their age."
He'd known Tomoyo since they were young, so he knew her age before things like that were important. Aside from her, he hadn't been interested enough in women to want to know their ages, much less the size of their feet. "Damned if I know."
"Or a scarf," Fai said. "That would be easy."
Kurogane sighed and stretched, joints popping. "Yeah, well. I'll look tomorrow."
"Do you want a second opinion?" Fai grinned, nudged him lightly with an elbow. "I think it might be best if you brought Moko-chan along."
It was not a bad idea, so he made a noncommittal sound. "Tch. Get these things off the bed. At least on my side so I can sleep."
"You're sleeping already?" Fai pulled a face, began gathering the sheets of assorted papers. "Not like you, Kuro-pon."
"It's late. Idiot."
"The night is plenty young."
"Do that in the kitchen if you have to."
"Are you chasing me out? That's not nice of you." Fai stuck his tongue out at him.
Kurogane looked briefly at the ceiling. "I'm not nice. You know that."
There was a pause before Fai next spoke. "Well... You did make those stands for the bakery," he said.
"I made them because the princess asked me to," Kurogane retorted.
But that smile was on Fai's face again, and he couldn't look away from it.
They were silent as Fai fitted the pieces of paper into his plastic bag, and quieter yet when Kurogane flicked the lights off, turning on his side and adjusting the covers over himself. Behind him, Fai made himself comfortable in bed, keeping some distance away.
The lights and sounds of the city were muffled in the room. Things were largely peaceful in Piffle World, and it was nice to have some private space for themselves, a comfortable bed that didn't leave them wanting.
Kurogane wasn't expecting the feathery touch on his back, not really. He didn't know what it meant, so he kept still, kept his breathing even when those fingers pressed more firmly down, and Fai shifted closer behind him, the heat of his body radiating through Kurogane's clothes.
"Thank you for building them," Fai murmured. He tugged the covers over himself, curled in so his forehead pressed lightly against Kurogane's back, and Kurogane stopped breathing.
Fai didn't move. Kurogane didn't know if he should. He didn't want to chase the idiot away again, but he wanted them closer, and...
He turned around. Pulled the sheets over his head, too, so Fai blinked up at him, eyes locking with his.
Slowly, very slowly, he brought his head closer, so their foreheads touched, and Fai's eyes blurred. Fai wasn't moving at all. Kurogane counted that as a victory.
"You like them?" he asked.
Fai's laughter was a puff of air on his mouth. "They're exactly as I imagined. But you did miss out on the finer paintwork."
"Idiot," he breathed, but his lips were twitching, and he brought a hand up to rub his knuckles along Fai's side.
Fai shivered. His eyes slipped shut, and he tilted his head so his mouth brushed over Kurogane's, chapped and inviting.
Kurogane kissed him back. It was slow and soft, sweeter still when Fai pressed himself closer, lips and body and hands, and he didn't question any of this, not right now. Right now, Tomoyo could lift that curse away from him, and all he'd want would be to remain here in bed with Fai, limbs tangling, fingers slipping on skin.
Something wet and cold touched him on the nape, in the middle of it all. Kurogane swore, reached behind for it.
Opi blinked back at him with those large eyes, tail wagging slowly, mouth open, as if it didn't know just what it'd barged in on. Fai snorted into his pillow, shoulders shaking, and Kurogane couldn't blame the creature for it.
Instead, he set it back in its bowl, muttering for it to stay there until they were done, at least, and Fai grinned up at him, his hair tousled.
"It likes you," he said.
"Yeah, well."
"It wants to sleep with you."
"I'm not sleeping with it."
"No?" The idiot was wearing that stupid grin, now, and Kurogane glared at him.
"No. I'll crush it."
"I'll protect it for you. It can sleep between us, you know."
"Hell no."
"You can imagine that, can't you?" Fai's eyes glittered, pupils large in the dark. "Opi all curled up snugly with big, scary Kuro-wan."
"Damn you."
"You've been damning me a lot."
He sighed, pulled the covers back over them, and kissed Fai again to shut him up. Fai moaned into his mouth, arched up so he pressed against Kurogane, and it sent a spark of heat down his spine, sharp and hot and so intense that he couldn't think about anything outside the covers.
Kurogane rolled Fai beneath himself, dragged a palm down his belly, brushed his mouth over Fai's throat, so Fai trembled and offered him the entire length of it. There were no protests when Kurogane sucked a bruise into his skin, only the hitch and stagger of his breathing, and the way Fai ground into his side, content to wait while he kissed further down, to his chest, and then to his belly.
When he had Fai's shorts tugged off, and Fai straining up at him, spit-slick, he crawled back up the bed, only to be caught by surprise when Fai curled his fingers into his shirt, dragging him up for a kiss.
He didn't know what they were both doing, then, kissing and grinding and little else, but when he thought back about this night, later on, Kurogane would decide that this was when they'd first begun making love.
A/N: Yup yup yup Piffle is all about the build-up. I hope this chapter was worth the wait!
And what has been taking up all my time is the new novel - a boy who grows up under the care of a wizard and falls in love with him. If you liked "more than a thousand times no", I think you'll enjoy it. ;) Look up "The Wizard by the Sea" on Amazon, or check out my tumblr for book links!
