They slept through the worst heat of the day as did the rest of the country, hiding in the cool dark of their rooms like wolves curling up in their dens. The faint scent of the flowers Fai had received added something new to the air and somehow made it a little less strange, a little more theirs. A little girl with her hair in pigtails had given Kurogane flowers, too, and they were now rubbing shoulders with Fai's bouquet in the same stone vase on the table. He hadn't minded the flowers, though the sly and somehow knowing grin Fai had flashed him had chafed a bit.
Servants tapped at the wooden frame of the outer doors, announcing the arrival of the evening meal. They'd had the honor of an invitation to dine with the king himself or in the main hall if Fai preferred company, but Kurogane had taken the risk of offending and requested that they be allowed to take their meals in their rooms. The more they had to be in company, the more chances the mage had of making some slip and exposing himself. Yasha-ou had seemed to take no offense and had agreed easily to his new guest secluding himself, and promised that Fai would be allowed all the privacy he wished.
Hushed voices and little clinks and clatters sounded in the outer room, overlaid with the sound of a great iron bell striking the hour above the castle. Lamps were lit in all the corners as well, letting light bleed through the thin paper sections in a buttery glow and slide through the space Kurogane had left in the connecting doors, and he found Fai watching him expectantly in the dimness as the sounds of the servants receded back down the hallway.
He pantomimed eating, repeating the word for "meal" until Fai could pronounce it with some success and more importantly, pick it out when inserted into a sentence. It wasn't necessary that the mage should be able to speak, but it would certainly improve their situation if he could recognize certain words and understand more of what was going on around them without Kurogane having to put on a little play.
It gave him something to think over while methodically plowing through a meal; something to distract himself with while he tried not to pay too much attention to all the little things that spoke of home clashing with all the little things that screamed of a strange land.
At first glance the meal looked like something Tomoyo-hime would sit down to; a myriad of small plates and bowls harmoniously arranged on low trays, nothing in ungainly proportions and subtle little garnishes adding a touch of elegance even to a simple bowl of grain. Tea steamed in a glazed pot and Kurogane's eyes landed appreciatively on a high-sided wooden tray off to the side containing a bottle and two tiny cups nestled in chunks of ice.
Once he himself sat down on a large square cushion and got a closer look, however, he had to fight off a small twist in his stomach that had nothing to do with the meal being unappetizing in any way. It simply didn't look familiar anymore. The bowl of grain was pearly white but seemed to be some sort of barley, not rice. The soup looked right but the steam was not redolent with the rich scent of sea salt as he'd expected. The fish was cooked to a turn and seasoned well, but the firm flesh flaked neatly under his chopsticks into startlingly orange-hued chunks. The after-dinner drink, too, was not what he'd expected. Instead of a mild rice wine the bottle turned out to contain an amber alcohol with a sharp, smoky bite to it. Good, but strange. Enjoyable, but throwing in his face that he was mind-bogglingly far from home.
Almost being thrown into prison after dinner was also a cold dash of reality.
An unending stream of visitors flowed through their suite after the remains of their meal had been cleared away, everyone bowing and paying their respects and bearing something in their hands. Bowls of hot water to cleanse their hands, a choice of clothes to wear to battle, even a map delivered by Captain Inoue himself showing the territory that Yama held at the sky-castle. Everything went along quite well enough until they were escorted to a great hall where waited the armor master. Though Kurogane and Fai were only accompanying Yasha-ou as observers, still they would be in the thick of battle and needed to dress accordingly.
Fai was attended to first as befitted his status. After smilingly shaking his head at the elaborately decorated and heavy pieces that were initially shown to him, the mage picked out some lightweight pieces of leather armor from what looked to be the stockpile for common soldiers; a single spaulder and a simple round piece fastening about the waist to protect the gut. Both were deeply scored with etched lines that crossed and re-crossed over and over, cutting the leather into neat squares. It was all dyed a blue so deep that it recalled the last faint echoes of color that remained in the sky before evening surrendered to the black of night, and as the armor master explained, was the standard uniform of all who served Yasha-ou.
Kurogane refused to wear it.
The argument began politely enough, at least on the armor master's side. With a preface of many humble apologies, the man insisted that though Kurogane was an honored guest, no man was allowed to join in the battle at the sky-castle, much less ride at the king's side, without at least some token sign of allegiance to Yama. Kurogane repeated his refusal in much less polite fashion and picked out for himself a plain, unadorned and undyed leather skirt to protect his legs without much hindering them. There was not much more than that to choose from but he hardly wished it otherwise, trusting more to speed and instinct to keep himself safe. He declared himself ready and then the armor master got downright huffy, and Fai disappeared.
The mage's sudden descent into watchful stillness had been ignored, but Kurogane scowled at the back of him as Fai slipped out of the hall. He wasn't gone for long, but even so by the time he returned the situation had deteriorated to the point where the ninja was fending off armed guards with little more than a fierce glare and lingering doubt in the guards' minds about how angry the visiting deity might become if his chosen companion were to be treated as a potential spy or assassin. It showed in the way their belligerence wilted nearly entirely away at Fai's return, and Kurogane turned to give the mage a withering look for sneaking off when things got tense.
The look lost a bit of its ire and turned quizzical instead as he eyed the voluminous folds of cloth the mage had draped over one arm. A second look showed him that the fabric was one of the gifts from the morning's tour; all in plain black but finely woven so that it was sturdy and thick yet flowed like water. Expressive eyes - and it was still strange to see them glittering so darkly in that pale face - were fixed on him already, and giving him such a look that it froze him to the spot. Not from any fear or submission to that imperious gaze, of course, but because he knew that Fai would never actually look at him so. The mage was putting on a play again, so Kurogane kept quiet for now and watched for cues that he ought to step in.
Dark eyebrows quirked high as the blond strode over and grabbed the hilt of Kurogane's sword, drawing Souhi out in one swift, smooth pull. The blade came singing out of the sheath and spat fragments of lamplight about the room as Fai gave the sword a quick twist, then went sliding through the black fabric in a great slithering rush. Kurogane kept Souhi clean and well sharpened, and Fai did not rip and tear through the cloth so much as he poured it over the blade and let gravity do most of the work. Soon enough there were two pieces on the floor, and then the mage reversed the blade over one forearm to return it to its rightful owner.
A long slender ribbon that had been sheared away from the main piece was plucked up first and Fai flung it casually about his shoulders, the trailing ends fluttering as he swooped down toward the floor again. The rest of the fabric was grabbed up in two great fistfuls with a soft grunt at the apparent weight of it all, and then Fai stepped around to look thoughtfully up at Kurogane. With his back to the armor master and fidgeting guards, the mage let his expression soften into something more natural, and he gave the ninja a sort of helpless little smile and questioning quirk of his eyebrows while hefting the weighty cloth. A little flick of a finger added clarification, and Kurogane huffed and crouched down so that Fai could more easily get the fabric - apparently a makeshift cloak - around his broad shoulders.
It wasn't actually at all heavy once it was settled around him and he frowned to see that winsome little smile turn into a smirk. And when Fai pulled a pale gold cord the exact shade of his own hair out of a pocket and used it to fix and fasten the cloak about the ninja's neck, it hit Kurogane that he hadn't been working in tandem with the blond to pull the wool over Yasha's men in some unexplained ploy of the mage's; Fai had neatly conned them all.
Here he was, a proud ninja sworn mind and body to the imperial princess of Nihon and to her alone, defying even the king of the country he was currently guest in...kneeling on the floor before this sunny-faced fool and letting him mark him with his colors. Mine, that gesture said. Mine, not Yasha's. Mine and I'll not let anyone else claim him. That smirk he was glaring up at turned positively gloating for a split second and then fell away entirely as Fai looked back over one shoulder to flick a cold, disapproving glance across the line of men now backed up against a rack of chestplates. The armor master, completely deflated now, actually flinched as if that look had been a knife before bowing deeply enough to hide his face. The guards followed suit.
Seeming appeased by this show of fearful respect, Fai swept grandly out of the hall. Kurogane followed two steps behind and made sure to shut the doors firmly behind them before taking a swing at the once-again grinning mage with his sword.
Author's Notes: And a little call-back to Pigtails of Nihon, too. XD After bringing up the bouquet of flowers that little Fai had received, I had to highlight Kuro-tan's own parallel storyline as well. I had fun with the idea that there was a very good reason that Kurogane is the only soldier shown fighting for Yama who is not wearing cross-hatched armor. I also like to think that here, Fai is absolutely glorying in his "vacation" from Reed's plotting and actually claiming Kurogane as his man, rather than having to constantly remind himself that he is the Warlock's pawn, and Kurogane belongs to the Witch's side.
