"Qiūjì."

Qiūjì?

"Yep. It's that or the ever-ambiguous 'dragon,' old-timer."

It was the conversation they had been having when Wolf suddenly bolted upright, chest heaving, a feral snarl tearing from his lips, eyes wide and crazed - and fire burst forth from his body, covering his skin and forcing Kuro to scramble backward. Húli startled as well, though the flames licking at her fur did not seem to alarm her nearly as much as the blazing gold that had overtaken Wolf's irises.

It was the dragon that rose to the challenge, claws digging into Wolf's bare skin for purchase as it wrapped its long body around his shoulders and neck, squeezing but not choking; after a moment of uselessly scrabbling at its barely-corporeal form, Wolf's eyelids began to droop once more, and the flames flickered and dissipated as he slumped uselessly back to the floor. Kuro was not quick enough to catch him in his descent, and both he and Húli winced as his head collided noisily with the wooden floor, the impact ultimately harmless but still cringeworthy.

It had all happened so quickly that Kuro's heart hadn't the sense to start racing until it was already over. Hand over his chest, he watched the dragon - watched Qiūjì settle back onto Wolf's chest with a low, apologetic croon in its throat. Wolf's hand rose to rest on the dragon's head, stroking idly, reassuringly, and with a start Kuro realized Wolf was, in fact, still awake.

"Wolf," he greeted, calmer than he had been the last time this happened; they had managed to wake Wolf to eat once before, though he had hardly been present after Shura's outburst. This time, however, the shinobi blinked blearily up at him before his eyes widened and he grasped clumsily for Kuro's hand. "Good morning."

"You're okay," was not the outburst Kuro had expected, but perhaps that was silly of him; Kuro's wellbeing had always been more important to the shinobi than anything else. "Good."

"So are you," Kuro murmured back, trying not to focus on how terribly vulnerable Wolf sounded. "Will you eat?"

He could see the hesitance, the no on the tip of Wolf's tongue, but all it took was Kuro squeezing his clammy hand in anxious anticipation of the denial for Wolf's expression to shift. Defeatedly, he said instead, "I'm . . . not sure I can sit."

"That's okay," Kuro said, already slipping his hand from Wolf's to reach for the sheets that were now neatly stacked. "I'll get you propped up. Your bandages need changed, anyway."

Things were painfully quiet as he set to work creating something of a linen throne for Wolf to lean back on, but it was more lighthearted to Kuro than Wolf; unbeknownst to the shinobi, they had not been certain he would properly wake anytime soon. Setting aside the raging fever that had yet to break, willingly letting Shura take over had been a dangerous decision, one that Qiūjì explained led to the demon attempting to reclaim his body anytime it was vulnerable - which at the moment was always.

Though Wolf did not seem to be struggling with it at the moment (leading Kuro to wonder if he was even aware of the scope of what he had done), that was undoubtedly Qiūjì's doing. And though the dragon was strong enough to hold it off for now, with even a weakened god's strength still enough to exert his will over Shura's, Kuro knew without being told that it would not last forever - not when Qiūjì's restorative power, unlike his presence, ebbed with every passing day.

Húli did not interfere. She only interacted enough to shift into a human, prepare Wolf a bowl of the bland soup they had managed to prepare with their meager knowledge, and revert back to a fox. At a nod from Kuro, she obediently trotted out the door; she had grown more comfortable with the guardian lions since that first night, and was undoubtedly heading off to pester the cub to ensure Wolf and Kuro were left properly alone.

It was as Kuro was wetting a rag in preparation of cleaning any excess blood that Wolf spoke up. "How long have we been here?"

"Three days?" Kuro had to think hard about it. The passage of time had been so muddled since the battle. "Three days," he said with a little more certainty. "We went through most of our rations, so Húli and I got the idea to make a soup so it'd last longer. It's not very good, but it's filling."

Why did he say that? Wolf had not asked. But he was growing tired of the silence, and he wished that familiar expression on Wolf's face that indicated internal self-flagellation would go away and be replaced with something nice. Something normal. Something that was not a reminder of their losses.

"Your eye," was the next thing Wolf practically whispered, and Kuro could feel the guilt dripping from the words, so deep and visceral his own heart seized as though the feeling was his.

"Gone," Kuro confirmed, and when his voice trembled he took a deep breath to calm it. "It's okay. We knew this would happen."

"It's not - !"

"If you're not going to eat yet," Kuro interrupted, agitation leeching into his words, "let me redress your wounds."

The protest died in Wolf's throat, and at Kuro's imploring look he averted his gaze and set the bowl aside. "All right," he conceded quietly, and raised his arm so Kuro could get to work.

It was cathartic, doing this while Wolf was awake; feeling the muscles shift under his hands with even the smallest movements simply because Wolf was moving on his own, the press of fevered skin as he finally moved enough to get his blood pumping, the sense that he was being watched because he was - things that would normally be awkward, but were now countless reminders that Wolf was alive and . . . not well, but getting there.

"How is your hand?" Kuro asked, noting how the shinobi kept flexing the fingers and frowning at them.

"Numb," Wolf answered truthfully. "Not so much that I cannot move it, but . . . "

"It isn't pleasant?" Kuro filled in dryly where he trailed off, and Wolf nodded.

As the dragon had informed him, most of the internal injuries were healed over, leaving only serious but not life-threatening ones to deal with. Wolf would likely be ready to move again by the next day. But there were still not-so-little things like these; even at full power, Qiūjì left behind old scars, and Kuro wondered if they ever hurt like his missing limb did. In the cold, perhaps, in Ashina - here, at least, he hoped they did not bother him too greatly.

Even now, Wolf was not fond of admitting when he was struggling. Kuro doubted he ever would be. It was enough growth that he would even hint at it in the first place.

"Kuro, I - "

"Can you - ?"

They both paused. Kuro recognized Wolf's tone, and dread at the coming conversation curdled in his gut. He had only a simple request for Wolf to shift and make his job easier - Wolf was attempting to address the elephant in the room, and Kuro did not want to. He'd had the past several days to cope, and though he could not tell if he had moved on from the incident or simply had not processed his grief yet, he knew he had no interest in facing it now.

But Wolf had not had that luxury. He had died, and spent the past several days trying not to do so again.

With a sigh that oozed guilt, Kuro began unwrapping the bandages over Wolf's shoulder. "Sorry. I know you want to talk about this, I just - "

"We do not have to," Wolf cut him off briskly, shifting to offer Kuro better access to the wound. He did not wince as Kuro inspected its healing progress - there was some bleeding from removing the bandages, but the gash itself was closing up nicely - and wiped away some of the blood. "If it makes you uncomfortable, we will not."

"I haven't been thinking about it at all," Kuro admitted, unwrapping the bandages around Wolf's torso next. "I think - I think that's the only thing keeping me calm right now. But I know you have something to say, so . . . "

"Just that I am sorry."

Of course. Kuro could expect no less. "For what?" he challenged. "You saved me. Us. I don't know what they would have done if you hadn't . . . well."

"Shura saved you," Wolf replied grimly. "And now that I have offered an inch, it will continue until it has taken a mile. I was a fool to accept its offer - "

"The offer that saved us, you mean?" Kuro interrupted sharply. Perhaps he was a bit rough pulling away the next piece of bandage, judging by Wolf's flinch - or perhaps it was just his tone that made the shinobi cringe. "You wouldn't have even had to if I'd managed to do any good with the training you gave me. I - I didn't even scratch any of them."

Oh . . . there were his tears. Mysteriously absent up to this point, they had finally arrived, and the emotion with them was even more delayed; he did not even process its existence until his next attempt at breathing in came as a watery sniff. The stab wounds on Wolf's chest and stomach were growing hard to make out through the blur of saltwater, and his words difficult to find through the tightness of anger and guilt that squeezed his lungs.

"You were exceptionally brave," Wolf quietly said, brushing a few strands of hair from Kuro's eye to coax him to look up. The gaze Kuro met was unbelievably tender. "Do you know how proud I am of you?"

And there were tears in his glimmering eyes, and his voice cracked the smallest bit on his words, and Kuro could only shake his head mutely and squeeze his eyes shut; were he to see Wolf cry, he knew he would not be able to withhold the flood any longer.

"Well," Wolf continued, with a little huff that hinted something like amusement, "I am. Unbelievably so." More subdued, he murmured, "I only wish it had not cost you so much."

"I don't care," Kuro replied. The truth in the statement came as a surprise to him; he thought he had merely been avoiding thinking about his eye, like everything else, but . . . "I don't. It doesn't hurt anymore. I know I just lost an eye, but I thought - I thought I was going to lose you!"

As it turned out, he did not need to see Wolf cry to weep on his own; all he could bring himself to do was rest his head on Wolf's uninjured shoulder as he wept, and without any pause, Wolf's fingers carded soothingly through his hair. His skin was hot against Kuro's face, and he could not help but worry that the fever had yet to break, despite how much better Wolf was doing.

Truthfully, he still worried he would lose Wolf; he was sure he would continue to worry until the shinobi's injuries had fully healed, and even still beyond. No matter what Wolf said, Kuro had still only stood by and protected himself, watching - and expecting - Wolf to handle things alone. When he had failed to, Kuro could do nothing to help - nothing but watch Wolf give in to a demon's will and die.

"It will take more than that to get rid of me."

Wolf's voice was a soothing baritone so close, and his fingers gently combing Kuro's hair were so calming Kuro could fall asleep right there. Who had been the last person to do something like this? Had it been Wolf? Perhaps his mother? That would have been so long ago - so long Kuro could not remember anything save that he had been a child then.

"Good," Kuro whispered back.

He felt like a child now. Had anything even changed since his declaration that he was growing? Anything besides loss and the realization that he could do nothing but watch Wolf take care of everything for him? Wolf, who still held him close as though he was the same child, whose head drooped onto his shoulder with a shaky sigh and whose arm would not yet let him go?

Well . . . it was fine, Kuro decided, for now. He could pretend he was a child again for a while, caretaker holding and comforting him - could pretend he still had both his eyes, that he had not witnessed so much death, that there was not still a lengthy journey ahead of them, that he could not feel Wolf's tears seeping through the shoulder of his yukata.

Just for a little while, until he was ready to be grown again.

Another day passed before Wolf was able to support himself, and another before his fever broke and he could stand and move for a short time. On the third day, Shura did not stir upon his waking, and they knew he was ready to continue their journey once more.

The stone lions were not news to Wolf upon their departure, but he still marveled at them as they made their leave; the lioness allowed Kuro to pet her large nose in thanks before they went, and she rumbled deep in her chest in what might have been a purr before wishing them good luck on their journey. Even Húli offered a respectful little dip of her head, mimicking Wolf and Kuro's bows.

She had remained a fox for a few days, now, spending most of her time curled up at Wolf's feet or even his side as he continued to heal, particularly whenever Kuro left to stretch his legs. Now she tucked herself into the crook of Wolf's prosthetic, and the dragon wreathed around his shoulders, still working at his injuries; though he was well enough to travel, he was not sure he could do much else. As such, the pack was left to Kuro to carry once more.

And as soon as they exited the invisible barrier erected around the temple, Wolf felt it - the deep burning of Shura clawing at the back of his mind, looking for a way in. A way to take over. It was just a shadow of what he had experienced during those fitful wakings, a mere echo of how it had felt when Shura was in control, but he still stopped in his tracks and felt Qiūjì dig his claws into Wolf's uninjured shoulder in warning.

Kuro spared a worried glance, but after a moment of firm defiance and no results, Shura seemed to dissolve back into silent sulking. Good. It would not have him yet.

He still had work to do, and a young man - two young ones, now - to keep safe.

Kuro walked beside him, though did not take his hand, for the fingers still tingled frequently with uncomfortable numbness; he did, however, occasionally reach out to grasp the hem of his haori as though steadying himself.

Of course, no matter how much he claimed not to care about his missing eye, it still impacted his navigation. Wolf gave himself an extra internal kick for allowing its loss. They had not even questioned Aurelio's warning, both assuming it would happen to Wolf, but . . .

"It's like staring at a painting," Kuro said, as though Wolf had been speaking his thoughts aloud.

"Oh?" was all Wolf could manage in return. He could not tell if Kuro thought him curious, or if he just needed to speak about it - perhaps Kuro did not know, himself.

"I can tell things are supposed to be closer or further away, but it's because I already know how perspective works." He reached out in front of him, palm outward as though pressed against a wall. "But it's all flat. My hand is on the same level as those mountains."

Said mountains were so far on the horizon they were faded, hidden by fog and cloud alike, naught but a faint purple silhouette in the distance. "It does not seem to bother you much," Wolf commented.

"Not to walk, no," Kuro replied, a dryness to his tone. "There's nothing in front of me to run into. I . . . don't think I can fight anymore."

You don't need to, Wolf barely stopped himself from saying. Not only was that the very attitude that had led to conflict between them, but it was untrue. Kuro's training may not have ultimately saved him, but it had postponed much worse than simply a missing eye; with time and much more experience, he could have become quite formidable.

He could have had something that made him feel competent.

"I'm sorry," Wolf said instead. "Perhaps you can still help. We have not tested this change yet."

"You don't really think I can do it, do you?" Kuro sounded so defeated. Reasonably so, for someone who had fought so hard to start learning swordplay only to do nothing with it. "There's no way. I can't fight like this!"

"Do you want to know the truth?" A pause, and then Kuro nodded. Honestly, Wolf answered, "I don't know. I have known a few warriors with the same handicap, but they were all much older than you, and I did not know them well.

"I do not know how experienced they were when it happened. I do not know how hard they had to work to reteach themselves. I do not know if they had to learn new tactics. I do not know what it took for them to return to battle, but they did make it there. I believe you can, too, provided you have the will and put in the effort."

Another short pause, during which Kuro bit his lip and glanced away; expression carefully hidden from view, he finally relented, "I guess we'll see."

He did not sound convinced. Wolf would just have to prove it to him, then.

The clang of metal, a small grunt, a fumble.

"Again."

Green eyes watched once-nimble feet grow clumsy and uncoordinated.

"Again - "

The same eyes squeezed shut in cringing sympathy when a failed deflect almost sent Kuro tumbling to the ground.

"Enough!"

It was such a strong outburst to come from such a usually polite boy, and Húli darted out of the way as Kuro went storming past her to the campfire, tossing his katana into the dirt and plopping down in front of the dancing flame. He moved to press his palms into his eyes, and after only a second one of his hands jerked from his face as the motion undoubtedly brought pain. A frustrated growl tearing from his throat, Kuro pounded his fist into the dirt instead.

"This isn't working! I can't do this!"

"We knew your abilities would be impacted. You can still block just fine - "

"Because I know how you fight already, it's half guessing!" Húli glanced awkwardly between them as Wolf approached, sheathing Kusabimaru and crossing his arms. "I can't do it! Stop babying me, I'm not a child, I know this isn't going to work - "

"Then stop acting like one!"

Wolf could see it in the fear in Húli's eyes, even if he had not felt the burning rage clawing at his throat and trying to break free - Shura was waiting. It lurked even as he pushed it pointedly back, eager to pounce on any show of anger and turn it into an opportunity to break though. The outburst, at least, seemed to shock Kuro into cutting his tantrum short; his shoulders hunched and he looked away, shame flitting across his features.

Wolf took a deep breath. Held it. Released. Once certain all was calm again, he sat before the fire with one leg crossed on top of the other and his hands folded loosely in his lap.

"You are too used to success," he said when he was sure all traces of irritation had dissolved.

"Wha - excuse me?" Kuro, clearly, was not in the same boat, the unruly indignance of youth boiling to the forefront again. "What's that supposed to mean? This entire journey has been failure after failure!"

"But not on your part," Wolf replied calmly. Rather than subject himself to watching the frustration twist Kuro's features and risk it becoming contagious, Wolf closed his eyes and breathed deeply once more. "Your personal success has always outweighed your failures. When things go wrong, it is rarely any fault of your own. You have never had to struggle with your own shortcomings."

Kuro made a noise of protest like he was going to retort, but seemed to think better of it. After a moment, his tongue still sharp, he replied, "I've always felt weak. I was always useless, so what exactly are you accusing me of?"

"You were weak because nobody allowed you to become strong," Wolf patiently explained, "not because you were incapable of strength."

"Do you have a point here?"

The defensiveness was not fading. Wolf supposed it was to be expected - recent trauma after trauma, the rough years of growing into adulthood, falling short in something he was supposed to succeed at - but he sighed nonetheless.

"This is the first time you have ever come across an obstacle that was entirely your own, and you are handling it poorly. While understandable," he stressed as he practically felt Kuro puff up angrily next to him, "you refuse to try simply because it is not easy."

"And that makes me childish?"

"Yes."

Kuro's silence spoke to his surprise at the answer, and Wolf went on.

"I will not force you to continue trying - I also will not have you wasting our time. I am not going to sit through your tantrums that this is not as easy as you want it to be. If you do not feel ready to keep trying, then don't. I will be here when you are."

"And if I never am?" Not all the fight had left Kuro's voice, but most of it had faded to a quiet sort of defeat.

"You know I will never fault you for it. But as things are, regardless of your decision - " Wolf cracked one eye open to fix Kuro with an effectively scolding gaze. " - it would be best if you stopped testing my patience. While your frustration is not unwarranted, you must learn to stop directing it onto others."

Onto me was what he meant, though it felt unnecessary to say. He had no desire to stifle Kuro's feelings at such a critical time in his life, but as it were, fighting amongst each other was the last thing they needed. Kuro was troubled, and Wolf wanted to help - he truly did - but he could not resolve all of Kuro's problems for him.

Closing his eyes fully once more, he straightened his posture and inhaled deeply, then released it slowly. The pose was one with origins he did not know, but Owl had him take many times throughout his training; though it had taken him years to appreciate the art of meditation and Wolf had not practiced it in another many years, he supposed now would be the best time to take it back up. Clearing one's mind made them quite calm, after all, and it was a straightforward method as any other to regain a handle on his newly delicate temper.

"What are you doing?"

"I intend to meditate." He paused, then added, "Perhaps you could benefit from it, as well."

He doubted Kuro was new to the idea, but even someone with basic knowledge of what it was rarely took to it easily. Kuro mimicked Wolf's pose with relative ease, closed his eyes, and grew quiet; after watching him, Wolf closed his own eyes once more. He heard the soft pad of Húli's paws in the dirt as she came to lay between them, and felt Qiūjì shift and wreathe around his forearms in his lap.

"What should I be doing?"

"Meditation is just a conduit. What do you want to accomplish through it?"

" . . . I don't know." Kuro sounded more unsure of himself than he had in a long while. As expected, the faded anger gave way to insecurity; Wolf's heart twinged for him.

"Then clear your mind," he suggested.

"Of everything?"

"Of the thoughts clouding it. Your head does not necessarily need to be empty - focus on the wind in the grass, the feeling of the sun on your face. Things that do not require much concentration."

"And then?"

"Cross that bridge when you come to it. You are not meant to stress over the correct way to meditate."

Kuro gave a low hum in response, sounding not totally convinced of that, but he finally fell quiet and allowed Wolf to focus on his own mind. He was not sure he could achieve his own goals with quiet and a brief hour of peace, but it was the only option he truly had; until there was a more permanent solution, Wolf could only hope attempting to tame his anger would work well enough.

So he cleared his mind, and focused on the current quiet calm, and did his best to stop thinking about the problems that plagued them for a little while.

"When all this is over," Kuro piped up suddenly, "I'm going to open up a tea shop."

It was another hot day that met them; they were supposed to have reached another village by now, as stated by the map, but progress with an injured Wolf and impaired Kuro was notably slow - slower still with the sun bearing down on them. Soon, though, likely within the next hour, they would arrive at their next destination.

"You have mentioned it before," Wolf replied.

At least there was not much further to go. According to the map, this village was the last stop between where they were and a large lake - the Western sea, if the fates were to be kind to them.

"It was a distant dream back then," Kuro said, "but not anymore. No more adventuring after this. I'm going to settle down."

The thought was a surprisingly easy one to conjure; Kuro, an older version of him with longer hair and limbs, bustling about a busy little cafe, faceless customers seated at low tables complimenting him as he offered fine dishware to each of them. He looked so relaxed in Wolf's mind, carefree and smiling even as the overflowing demand seemed like it might be stressful.

"It is a fine idea."

Where did he fit into that dream?

Kuro hummed in faint acknowledgement, and they fell into quiet once more.

Very little had been accomplished with his swordsmanship since their explosive attempt; though Kuro was getting better at countering Wolf, it was as he said - he knew Wolf's patterns. He was only predicting his moves before they happened. His scope of vision was limited, and depth perception a greater problem than Wolf imagined. Without much, much more training, Kuro would not achieve a skill level that was even remotely useful.

Kuro had not talked much about it. He had simply insisted they keep moving, citing the closeness to their goal, and led them into the rolling hills toward the next village. Wolf was not one to push.

The hills had been a source of hesitation for Wolf, however. He loathed the low visibility, the winding of the path, the way they muted much of the ambient noise - it felt as though they were dangerously exposed. Such sites were prime for an ambush, and as it would not have been the first time they had been exposed to highwaymen that preyed on travelers, he kept a hand on Kusabimaru's sheath and his eyes sharp.

It was not a highwayman that found them, though, else he would have heard them coming himself; no, it was Húli that leapt to attention with her ears pricked at some unknown sound, hackles rising in suspicion as she perked up in Wolf's other arm, and their little party paused and waited.

An inhuman threat, then?

And then Wolf saw it - fast as lightning, a small bronze blur flitted across the path, headed straight for the shinobi. Qiūjì shifted and bared his fangs, Húli let out a startled bark, and Kuro yelped as it brushed past his ankles. With Húli in his arms, Wolf had no hope of unsheathing his katana in time as the tiny thing leaped straight for his abdomen -

- and snatched a coin purse straight off his obi before skittering right back down the path.

"Hey!"

Húli went tearing off after it before anyone could think to stop her, snarling and snapping and sprinting out of sight, and naturally Wolf and Kuro had no choice but to follow. Húli was making plenty of noise, at least, to keep on her tail, and the path did not diverge as they kicked up dirt in their effort to catch up.

Wolf had not expected the village to be so close. They had no time to express relief that they had found a place to rest, for surprisingly busy though the place was, there was quite the commotion of angry men and women scrambling about and shouting at something at their feet. Of course they had to arrive at midday, Wolf cursed, and grabbed Kuro's hand to better navigate the restless crowd.

He could hear Kuro apologizing behind him to the already furious villagers that Wolf was carelessly shoving past, but the shinobi was not about to lose track of the trail of chaos that Húli and her prey were leaving behind. Down the path they had entered, skirting around a main square with a well, down another wide path where he danced around two men in shining scarlet armor and then down a narrow alley mostly lined with houses - the crowds were less dense here, though still present, and Wolf scanned the ground for a glimpse of -

"There!" Kuro exclaimed, and pointed to Húli's bushy tail disappearing beyond around the corner of a building.

Narrowly avoiding toppling over a man carrying crates of fruit, Wolf darted around the corner - and almost stepped directly onto the fox they were chasing in question.

Kuro slammed into his back at the sudden stop, but Wolf did not turn to check if he was alright because Huli was growling and her hackles were sticking up higher than he had ever seen them and in front of her, standing nearly a foot taller than Wolf, was an older man with silvering hair and a strong build and familiarly piercing green eyes that bore directly into his own.

"Well, hello," the man said, sounding quite amused, and Wolf realized that there was a small creature that looked as though it was made of metal cupped in one of his hands. In the other he held the missing coin purse. "Welcome to Xining."