Author's Notes:
So glad to be back writing fan fiction. I'm back from Chicago, and I had a great time on my trip. We played a concert at the Field Museum, and sat in the poncho zone at the Blue Man Group, where we were splattered with paint and other debris. It. Was. Amazing.
But I missed your reviews, and I'm glad to be back.
The second drabble is borderline rated M, but it's not explicit enough for me to justify changing the rating, so . . . Yeah. Enjoy.
61. Valentine's Day
"I'm not eating that," Kurogane growled.
"C'mon Kuro-puu. I made a piece for everyone."
"No!"
Fai pouted, tears budding in his eyes. When the ninja scoffed, he saw an opening.
Fai had always been quick. Becoming a vampire had made him quicker. Too fast for the eye to track, he stabbed the fork into the spongy substance and lifted it to the ninja's mouth. The ninja sputtered as the mass slid down his throat.
"You bastard!" he exploded, his artificial arm going to his sword. Fai danced out of the way, remembering Valentine's Day in Outo.
Some things never changed.
62. Cruelty
Sakura tightened the ropes around Syaoran's wrists, smiling when he winced. Every breath he took trembled.
Her fingertips ghosted down his torso, starting at his collarbone and moving down the ridges of his muscles. "We hardly ever get to see each other anymore," she murmured, lifting her fingers and kissing the hollow of his throat. He shivered. "And you said wanted tonight to be special."
"Sakura . . ." His arms twitched against the restraints. "When I said special—"
She stopped the words with another kiss. "I know. But tonight is my night."
He moaned. "Now you're just being cruel."
63. Kindness (200)
"Damn mage . . ." Kurogane readjusted the bag of flour so it sat on his other shoulder. He could hear the mage laughing now—Oh, but Kuro-pon, I needed flour for the café.
Kurogane was half a mile from the café when he heard a mournful meow. How loud is that mage? he wondered, eyebrows slanting downward. A moment later, he heard another meow, more desperate than the last.
Kurogane paused, listening. This time, he was able to pinpoint the source.
He leaned the bag of flour against a wall and walked into the alley. The pathetic mewling grew louder as he approached.
The kitten's paws reached around the top of a drainpipe as it squirmed to free itself. Another cat, full grown, sat outside the pipe, echoing the cries of its kitten.
No one has to know about this, he thought, kneeling down beside the drainpipe. He reached inside, plucking the furry mass from its prison. He set it down in front of the larger cat, who then cleaned the kitten off with her tongue.
Kurogane returned to the street and hoisted the bag of flour over his shoulder.
No one would have to know about his little detour.