[A/N] THM: I'm ba~ack! And you all have KuRoHiTsUzEn to thank! KuRo- your one review is the reason I have returned, for which you get an e-cookie! Also, e-cookies to Irene Gerke, SurrieTheYaoiQueen and KendraheartsFox. You guys are the best!

[Dusk that day]

[Fai] The lack of anything that improves health (food, sleep, sunlight) other than tea had started to make me both light headed and mildly nauseated as well as headachy. Which didn't make me in the least inclined to obtain those things, contrary to common sense.

It didn't help that I had spent most of the day trying to get Kurogane to swallow a bite of over-cooked porridge. I tried to press the glands on his throat to make him swallow, but even when they did work, the food refused to go down. After about an hour and a half I sat back, holding one hands so tight that my knuckles showed an odd color under my already too-pale skin. Tired and thinking fuzzily when at all, I had only one thought. Fuck this. Fuck swallowing. Fuck food. Fuck. Just fuck. I stared at the lump of oatmeal, just visible inside his mouth. I used the spoon to fish the gunk out of his mouth, flung it angrily back into the bowl and shoved the whole thing aside. I thought for a second and threw it out the window.

The last thing I wanted was Sakura or Syaoran to start asking why Kurogane wasn't eating and was he okay. Kuro was never the one to bring up food, and he never made much ado about eating, preferring to eat something with rice in it out of a small bowl with two sticks, though I still don't know how that works. Somehow, this prevented everyone else from noticing the stack of eight, and often more bowls growing at his elbow as he ate in silence. It had been three and a half days since he ate, and by the looks of it he had lost close to six or seven pounds. His hands looked thinner, his cheeks had begun to hollow, and when I lifted him to change his bandages, he was far too light.

He should have been up. Would have been up if not for me. And even aside from my incompetence, Kurogane had never taken so long to heal. He had taken swords straight through his abdomen and been conscious sooner after than this. I couldn't see any of the normal signs of poison on the wound, but it hadn't healed at all either.

I watched as the sun slowly set on the windowsill, leaving shadows to fall over Kurogane. Usually, it made him look dangerous. Now, he looked weak and ill. I felt sick, almost on the verge of trying to upend my empty stomach. I swallowed hard and pressed my lips together as I waited for it to settle.

"Dinner's almost ready." Syaoran told me quietly from the doorway. I glanced up at him, relieved that I didn't see the pitying sympathy written all over Sakura's pretty face . I nodded, and wrung out the wet towel I'd been using to try to make Kurogane drink, folding it carefully to lay it across his forehead, no longer covered by its protective armor. When I glanced back, he was gone again.

It was a bit of a relief- I didn't want to have to deal with him or Sakura anymore. I didn't want to live with myself. I was too much of a weak, fearful bastard to do a damn thing about any of it.

Then, Sakura walked in with my dinner on a tray. She handed it to me quietly, without saying a word. I did my usual bit of smiling and nodding, taking the tray. She smiled and left the room again. I was just about to settle into the comfortable solitude when she and Syaoran returned, each carrying a tray. They sat at the foot of Kurogane's bed, just like they had at breakfast. I smiled, for real. It was so cute.

I almost wanted to say something, but if there were words that wouldn't feel stupid, they were far out of my grasp, so I just smiled and took a sip of the tea.

At first, I was a bit uncomfortable, just waiting for one of them to try to start a conversation, but the opened never came. They just sat, Syaoran cross-legged, and Sakura leaning on the foot of the bed with her legs folded under her and began to cheerfully eat their dinner. Much to my displeasure, they seemed bent on taking their time. I hoped they would leave soon, or they would definitely notice that I wasn't eating and I wasn't sure what I could tell them that wouldn't make things worse.

So instead, I took spoonfuls of tea, blew them cool and slowly poured them down Kurogane's throat. Apparently, the old herbalist who managed to sell it to Sakura said it would improve any ailment. Judging by the pungent medicinal smell, I wasn't sure I doubted it, though I was also fairly certain Sakura had been had. Either way, the stuff couldn't possibly be hurting him.

In the time it took for Syaoran, a light eater in the evenings, to finish his dinner, I managed to get a full half-cup into him which was quite an impressive feat even though the handleless little cups were dwarfed by my hands, and made infinitely smaller when compared to Kuro's.

"Here Hime- I'll take my tray to the kitchen. You stay here" Syoaran told her, smiling a warm smile to halt her protests.

"Wait- Fai-san hasn't eaten anything." She noted, a worried frown twisting her face in concern. She turned to look at up at me, hands on my knee.

"You didn't like it? Did I make the wrong thing?" She asked me, clearly upset at what she seemed to think was her inability to help anyone. I shook my head at her in what I hoped was reassurance, forcing a smile. "I didn't cook it right, did I?" She asked quietly, eyes averted. She looked absolutely heart-broken. I sighed, too quietly for her to hear.

"No, of course you did" I told her, still smiling, and acutely aware of her tiny hands on my leg, focing me to pay attention. She blinked, didn't seem to quite believe me for a second, then her face cleared.

"Are you sick then?" She asked innocently. Then she reached up, trying to put her hand on my forehead. I jumped back in the chair, throwing my body out of the way of her hand, my heart slamming in my throat. Don't touch me. Don't touch me-don't touch me-don't touch me. Shaking I stared at her. Looking like she was about to cry, she helf-fell half stumbled back, arms held in front of her like she didn't know what she was supposed to do with them.

What have I done? Syaoran, already standing, pulled an arm around her shoulder, frowning in confusion at me. What did I do? Handling Sakura carefully, like she was made of porcelain, he lead her out of the room. He glanced back, just once as he turned away, his eyes asking me 'Why?'. His face said 'How could you?'. Then he was gone.

I tried to breathe, but I was shaking to hard to draw in air steadily. I was frozen in place, unable to do anything. What had I done? They had to hate me now. Syaoran if not Sakura- she couldn't hate the devil. Maybe, even so, she could hate me. I destroyed everything.

Always, anything I touched, I destroyed. First Kuro, then Sakura. How had I thought that this could be any different than before? Shaking, I fell forward onto my knees, arms braced on the side of the bed. There was a soft plop as the first tear fell on my bare arm. Then more. I tried to stay quiet, let the tears run their course. Instead, a broken sob, rose up from my chest, and forced its way past my lips, leaving me breathless. Once my breath was gone, I couldn't catch it. I collapsed into broken, shuddering sobs, my body fallen against the side of the bed, my shoulders heaving with the force. My chest ached, as did my lungs, and I couldn't breathe, but I couldn't stop, shuddering and gasping as hot tears ran down my face. Stupid.

[Syaoran]

After the princess fell asleep, I went to go get the dinner tray from Kurogane-san's room. Standing in the door frame, I stopped, feeling my anger at Fai-san soften.

He was kneeling on the floor, half collapsed on the bed, sobbing. It was sad- big broken gasping sobs shook his shoulders, a pathetic broken thing to watch. When the princess cried, or sometimes other girls, they looked delicate and sensitive, or emotional. Fai just looked like a pathetic broken thing, his face red and puffy and swollen from tears. I felt bad thinking it, but it was true- it is ugly when a man cries.

As I had thought, Fai-san had his reasons. It was no excuse for upsetting Hime, but still. He had his reasons. Everyone did. Another shuddering sob shook his shoulders, not quiet or restrained, but an uncontrollable sound that echoed eerily in the still, dark room.

Part of me wanted to go to him, but if I went to him he would have stopped crying, and that would have been bad. No matter what had happened to us, even though his past was bad, Fai-san had always smiled, even when he wasn't happy at all. It was probably for our sake, at least somewhat. Maybe he just didn't know how to cope. It was really none of my business either way.

Fai shook, falling against the bed with a whimpering gasp and I closed my eyes turning away. I had planned on staying to watch over the mage, but I couldn't. Watching him, broken down and crying like this, was somehow innately wrong, intruding on something that was clearly a private moment. He whimpered again, his face propped in narrow fingers that shook wildly and I caught another glimpse of his face, mottled an ugly pink almost as if he had been slapped. I turned away, unable to watch anymore. I walked away, keeping my footsteps silent. I lay down on my futon in the room Sakura and I shared and stared at the ceiling, seeing Fai-san's tear stained face. With a soft sigh, I put the image out of my mind, and went to sleep.

[A/N] THM: Well, Rika couldn't be with me to write these, so it's I have to do it all on my lonesome. **pouts**. So, who thinks we're mean authors now? **evil laughter** Okay, just kidding. We just like to put characters through hell because there isn't any other way for them to grow and get betterer. And isn't Syaoran's POV nice? I was so pleased with it! Aside from that, we still don't own Tsubasa or anything in it (flips over pamphlets, circling lawyer's phone number) due to my fail of an imaginary lawyer. That out of the way, you guys know the drill- read and review! Maybe that way I'll stay in good spirits.

Hatter, out!