Thank you all for the lovely reviews! I'm so glad there're people interested in this blasphemous story LOL
Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles and its characters do not belong to me. This chapter is rated M for a bit of sexual content; the rest of the fic remains a T rating.
when flight falls short
(Part 2)
In the end, dinner was a shared meal of cold meat pie that Fai had made in the previous world. They hadn't very much by way of fresh-made food; Mokona had explained that her storage was essentially a spare room set aside in Yuuko's shop, and as such, food they stored was subject to natural phenomenons like decay.
Kurogane was mollified that at least it hadn't been something sugary sweet, like the idiot's pancakes and desserts that would sometimes make his mouth pucker.
After the events of the day (both in Nagare and the rock island world alike), the children had been relieved to take a shower and crawl into bed. Kurogane sat with his back to the wall, kept half a ear out for the mage, who had locked himself into the bathroom an hour ago.
No doubt scribbling more of those spells, like he had been doing close to the end of their stay in Nagare.
The memory of what had transpired in the lobby downstairs was still fresh. In some twisted way, he found that he didn't so much mind the notion that the princess and kid were like his children—maybe even his siblings, or cousins—what ate at him, like a scab ready to be picked, was the idea that he shared those children with that idiot. Sure, he was rubbish with kids, and sure, he didn't want full responsibility over them. But the five of them, a family?
They had been forced into several situations that required them to be close, physically and mentally and in a host of other different ways... Yet he still couldn't bring himself to trust Fai (if that was really his name, like Kurogane wasn't the name Youou was born with).
He could trust Fai to give it his all to protect the children, that much he knew now. But the man was still secretive, hiding his spells away and refusing to work his magic for any other occasion, and it really did not help that the damn mage was so aggravatingly attractive. (He'd thought one night would be plenty, but those wet lips, those fingers, that quivering stomach as he drew his knuckles down south... Kurogane hadn't had enough of it. He'd wanted to believe that he was above all that, but Fai was a different person in the cloak of darkness, sleek and hungry and desperate, an enigma that piqued his curiosity to no end.)
(And Fai refused to even acknowledge that they'd slept together.)
Kurogane rubbed his temples and attempted to sleep. Back in Nihon, between any watch about Shirasagi castle, he would have been able to fall into a light doze. Right now, however, the mage was up to something in the bathroom just mere feet away, and he couldn't rest when all he saw, whenever he attempted to close his eyes, was serious blue and thin fingers concentrating on scribbling neat runes in that battered notebook. That, and his hunger had not been entirely quenched.
He grit his teeth and pushed his head back against the thin dusty wall, narrowly surveying the slits of light which shone tauntingly from the edges of the bathroom door.
Five minutes later, he was on his feet, padding silently over to the bathroom. He knocked lightly on the door once.
There wasn't any answer, only a shuffling of papers, so he knocked again.
"Kuro-rin, if that is you, you know that you're not welcome in here," came the muffled reply.
He rapped softly on the door, regardless. Syaoran stirred in his bed.
"You aren't propositioning me, are you?" Fai asked lightly. "The children are asleep, you know, you don't want them waking up hearing sounds."
Heat crept up the back of his neck (neither of them were quiet, he knew now), and he definitely was not thinking about that.
"Open up," he muttered finally, "Or they're going to wake when I start yelling at you, idiot."
There was much reluctant shuffling, then a dull click of the door unlocking, before it swung open. Fai's face was plastered with that same stupid smile again. "Did Kuro-pon miss me?"
Kurogane crowded the door frame, edged the mage back in before he could attempt to escape (he was, the notebook was tucked beneath his arm and he looked just about ready to bolt) and locked the door behind them.
If the air in the bathroom was suddenly harder to breathe, it was most assuredly because of the lingering humidity from earlier showers.
"You're going to release those paper birds tonight," he guessed, glancing down at the notebook.
The smile on the blond's lips pulled tight; Fai dropped his gaze to the corner, took a ginger step backwards. "Why do you keep talking about things that don't concern you, Kuro-tan?" he breathed.
"It concerns me." Kurogane watched as the mage turned away, dark golden hair limp from being washed. His toes curled against the damp floor tiles. "If you're going to drive out there and try to kill yourself again—"
"I'm not." Blue eyes narrowed and slid towards him. (Fai's mouth, when he wasn't smiling stupidly, turned down at the corners, like he was more accustomed to sulking instead.) "Go to sleep, Kuro-pon, you need to recover from your head injury."
"I'm fine. 'Sides, you need to sleep yourself," he retorted, eyed the notebook tucked under the thin arm further away from him. His head no longer ached, hadn't been aching for hours now. "You were shaking earlier—"
"I'm fine, see?" Fai stretched thin fingers out in front of him, flipped his hands over. The tips of his fingers were bumpy and a shade paler than the rest of his palms, old scar tissue slowly fading away.
Kurogane frowned, caught a thin wrist to bring that hand closer. For all the innocence the mage tried to project, and the movements that hinted at his fighting prowess besides, these weren't ordinary battle wounds. What had he been through to sustain an injury like that? To have the tips of all his fingers mutilated and bleeding?
Fai snatched his hand back, pressed insistently towards the bathtub in an attempt to squeeze past. "I'm not sleeping," he said firmly. "Let me out."
"You aren't going to be of any use to the kids if you're exhausted tomorrow," he said dryly. "And I don't want to have to pick up your slack."
The fake smile was back, blinding and hateful in its intensity. "But Kuro-pon is so strong! Surely you'll be able to help Sakura-chan if I can't, right?"
Kurogane bristled and grabbed the blond by his arm, yanking him close to snarl in his face, "You aren't fooling me, wizard. I'm sick of your stupid smiles."
The other man stepped back, still wearing the grin like a shield. "Well, then, maybe you should stop talking about things that aren't your business."
"I haven't forgotten about those birds yet," he growled. (Damn it, how did the idiot throw him on such a loop?)
At that, Fai's mask cracked the slightest bit; his smile faltered. "They don't concern you," he insisted.
Kurogane looked between the notebook and the wizard's face, and made his decision. "I know you're drawing more of those spells," he pointed out. "You don't have to hide them from me."
The facade slipped completely. Fai blinked in shock. Fear flickered through his gaze, mingled with hesitation, and his pink tongue darted over his lips. "W-well, Kuro-tan, I know curiosity is a virtue—"
"I can help," he muttered. He hadn't quite meant to; the words had just slipped from his grasp. Blue eyes grew wide.
"What?" the mage gasped, looking between him and the door in bewilderment. He tried to tug his arm free. "Did you hit your head too hard? Who are you and why did you kidnap Kuro-puu?"
An impatient snarl burst through his throat. Kurogane tightened his fingers on that skinny arm, entertained the thought of shaking the twit back to his senses. "You're such an idiot, mage. No one kidnapped me."
Fai stared at him. "You really need to go back to sleep," he said flatly. "You're out of your mind."
"I'm not," Kurogane retorted, stepping across cool, smooth tile to close the distance between himself and the blond. "You shouldn't have to do this alone."
"What— Why?" the blond demanded, his voice a little lower, a little raspier. His eyebrows drew down with suspicion; he stepped back, tugged his arm free of Kurogane's grasp. Winced when he put pressure on his sprained ankle. "Why do you even care, Kuro-chi?"
"You're—" You're a good man, he wanted to say. You try so hard to distance yourself from us, he wanted to say, but you care so much for the kids that you're willing to risk your past catching up with you in order to protect them, you who is scared and who doesn't know what to do with himself. That same knot of feeling was back in his chest; it was tight and warm and looking into lucid sapphire did not help in the least. "You're a good person," Kurogane finished lamely.
Fai turned away and laughed—it was a hollow sound. "You should just concern yourself with the kids, Kuro-sama. I'm just your average street magician and—"
"You're worth something," he snapped, grabbed hold of thin shoulders to shake them. Was Fai being serious? Did he think so little of himself? He did, didn't he, if he was so willing to let his life be taken away.
The blond wobbled and grimaced (his ankle was bandaged, if still sprained; he wasn't holding his cane), and he flailed to find some sort of purchase to steady himself with. The notebook fell to the floor with a wet slap. "I'm not—"
"You're an idiot," Kurogane muttered, shifted his grasp to steady the twit by his arms. He shook the man then, roughly. "You're a fucking idiot."
"That doesn't explain anything," Fai protested weakly, staring at him in bewilderment. He gulped, glanced down at the notebook, fingers twitching towards it.
Kurogane sighed. He released the wizard, crouched down to pick the notebook up, and shoved it back into Fai's hands. "Take it. Let's go."
Pale lips parted in an 'o'. "What?"
"The birds. You need to release them, don't you?" He turned to leave. "I don't believe in running away," he clarified, even though Fai didn't ask for it, "But I'm not going to watch you run and hurt yourself in the process."
"I can take care of myself," the blond said indignantly, sharp eyes flashing.
Kurogane scoffed. He glanced at the ankle that Fai was still not putting any weight on. "Prove it, then."
The mage clenched his jaw; he looked away, clutched the notebook to himself. "Not tonight."
He blinked in surprise.
"I'm not done with— with the birds yet," Fai mumbled edgily. "And we don't have money for more fuel."
"Can't you just release them from here?" Kurogane questioned with a frown. Papery, stubby birds came to mind, flying with a will on their own into the night sky. Fai pressed his lips together, looked away. A low rumble of exasperation reverberated in Kurogane's chest. "You have magic enough to do that. I've seen you."
The blond winced at that—clearly the rooftop fight in Nagare was something he'd rather forget. But Kurogane couldn't, not when he'd seen the man throw up defensive barriers for the sake of the children, not when Fai had single-handedly stopped his car from plummeting to the earth below. Surely making some little birds fly some miles was within his capabilities.
"It's not that simple," the idiot said on an exhale. "You don't understand, Kuro-rin."
"Then explain it to me." He folded his arms across the chest, leaned back into the bathroom door. Three feet away, Fai reached backwards, found the sink with his fingers and eased back against it. That ankle was hurting him the longer he stood on it, Kurogane could tell.
"It's not like I know what I'm doing," was the reply. It was a lie, and as if it was a lifeline, the confidence in the mage's features grew the larger he spun it. "All I'm doing is guesswork, you know. They'll just get blown away if I release them from here—"
"Bullshit. If you think you're lying convincingly, you're dead wrong," Kurogane snapped, annoyed once more. He rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet, stalked over to the willowy man. "Try again."
Fai stared at him, open-mouthed, swallowing. "But—"
"No excuses," he breathed, pressing so close there were mere inches between them.
The blond didn't look up at him, however. He turned his head away, muttered, "If you don't want lies, Kuro-tan, then you shouldn't ask questions."
Impatience was an ugly, hissing thing in his chest. Kurogane clenched his fists, glowered down at clumped locks of dark flaxen hair. "Just how bad is this thing coming after you, that you have to keep erasing your trails and glancing behind yourself?"
Because that was what Fai had to have been doing, capturing those cinnamon-scented footprints when he thought no one was looking. It hadn't started until he used magic in Nagare. And if he was so powerful, to be able to transport himself between dimensions, then what was he running from, to be able to terrorize him so?
The wizard shivered violently, if involuntarily. "Don't," he whispered, "Don't ask."
Another memory surfaced, traced with the bite of liquor but no less crucial for it, Would you kill someone you love if they asked you to? (Hazily, spoken with wet lips that later kissed down his throat and breathed hot against his clavicle.)
His first instinct was to make that connection, that Fai feared something from his past. Whether it was someone he loved, or the punishment for killing someone important to him in the world he came from. Or maybe that had nothing to do with why he was running away at all, even if Fai had loved someone who begged for death.
His second instinct was a buzzing jealousy, that slithered through his gut and taunted him. But this man wasn't his. Fai was a liar and probably sat on a mile-high mountain of secrets, and he was not to be trusted. This man would never be his. (If that thought burned, then Kurogane wasn't acknowledging it.)
"Whatever," he said eventually. He was strong enough to face anything he came across (looked for a challenge, even), so it didn't matter if it was some frightening entity that had the mage running scared. (It didn't mean he wasn't curious, however.) "It doesn't concern me."
Fai's shoulders sagged in relief.
"But you aren't staying in here all night," Kurogane repeated. "I'm not having you become another liability due to fatigue."
"And here I thought Kuro-sama cared about me." This was spoken with a pout; Fai glanced up through thick golden lashes, moist lower lip pushing forward. "All he wants is less responsibility over the kids."
Kurogane rolled his eyes and turned away with a disgruntled snort. "Have you considered that they might need to use this place?"
Fai followed the direction of his nod, towards the toilet. "Hyuu, Kuro-rin is so sensitive to the children's needs!" he exclaimed softly, almost in wonderment. "Just like a good daddy!"
Banked anger rekindled in his ribs; he drew a deep breath and glowered. "One more word, mage—"
"Kuro-daddy is kind and strong," Fai crowed, and this time, there was a gleam in his eyes, a playful edge to his smile. "Exactly how I like my men—"
Whether the idiot meant anything by the taunt, Kurogane wasn't sure. But in the next moment, Fai had launched himself at him, long, limber arms coming up to wind around his neck. It was more surprise than the negligible weight of the blond that drove him backwards, back thumping heavily against the bathroom door. "What—"
"Kuro," was a whisper against his ear, hot breath tickling his skin. The lights flickered off.
He should react as though this was an attack, really, but there was no threat in this, not when luminous blue eyes watched him, half-lidded, and he could see the blond just as clearly anyway, feel his warmth soaking through their clothes.
Chapped lips brushed his jaw; slender fingers carded through his hair. Fai pressed himself flush to his torso, eager and inviting, one foot creeping up along the outside of Kurogane's calf.
The discussion on magic and spells hadn't been forgotten (no way would he cast that aside), but if the idiot would rather focus on this than his desperate fleeing, well. Kurogane wasn't complaining.
They moved with greater ease, more familiarity this time, sinking into a hungry, searing kiss that lit fire in his veins, sent blood thumping through his body. Right now, it didn't matter that this was going to be yet another memory that the mage forcibly forgot (he started this, didn't he?) not when he was all lips and teeth and tongue, hands trailing down bare arms, hitching clothing up, fingers splaying across his back, dipping south to grab his rear and squeeze—
He curled his fingers through wispy-fine hair, sent his other hand down to bring the mage up and against him, grinding their hips together in a way that dragged groans from their throats.
Fai rocked into him; he growled, gripped the man by his narrow waist and turned them around, pinned him into the wall, hissing when the smaller man slipped a hand down the front of his pants.
His breath left him in a rush. He thrust into searching fingers, cursed into that hot, wet mouth that he wanted further down.
The doorknob jiggled just as clever fingers dragged over sensitive flesh and he moaned.
"Kurogane-san?" Syaoran's muffled tone cut through the butter-thick air, sluicing onto them like buckets of icy water. "Are you hurt?"
He grew very still, hyperaware of his breath heaving through his chest. In front of him, Fai had tensed in much the same way, snatching his hand out of his clothes, his own breathing unsteady. Kurogane bit back the string of profanities that clamored on his tongue. "I'm fine," he growled, voice a little huskier than the kid needed to hear. "Go back to bed."
"I, um, okay." An audible swallow. "I just— I just thought I heard something, that's all. Good night."
The silence that fell in the darkness was highly uncomfortable, punctuated by uneven breathing. Having Syaoran bring reality back upon them like this, it was... It struck a nerve, this not-relationship he had with Fai, that Fai tried so hard to not acknowledge.
"Mage," he said roughly.
"Nothing," Fai gasped, his voice unsteady, "Nothing happened."
That blond head was ducked down so Kurogane couldn't read his expression. Fai half-stumbled, half-limped to the door, wrenched it open, and escaped.
A growl began low in his chest; he grit his teeth and swept his gaze through the bathroom. Being discarded wasn't a pleasant feeling—it was humiliating, hurtful, and he wanted to hit something, barely restraining himself because We don't have money to pay for damages, Kuro-chan, rang in his head.
Kurogane tugged roughly at his clothes to straighten them, annoyed at the traitorous throb of heat that still remained in his groin. Damn idiot. Damn kid.
The notebook lay forgotten on the floor by the sink. Kurogane clicked his tongue, crouched to pick it up. It figured that he was still cleaning up after the damn moron. There wasn't any point in wondering what he'd done in his past life to deserve this, so he didn't, instead pulling the bathroom door open and stepping out.
Fai was curled into an armchair in the corner of the room, fidgeting. He stiffened when Kurogane's stare lit on him, tension building in the slope of his shoulders as he approached. Still afraid, even now.
Kurogane didn't breathe a word, merely dropped the damp-covered book onto the edge of the armchair and retreated to his own station by the hotel room door.
He didn't sleep well that night, and he knew for a fact that Fai didn't, either.
It was painfully awkward the next morning.
Fai hardly looked at Kurogane at all. In the dim half-light of dawn, he crept to the bathroom, washed his face, and retreated to the window, kneeling on the floor and ducking his head and shoulders under thick, dusty curtains so he could continue to work on his spells. The covers of the notebook had dried into warped wrinkles; the pages crinkled noisily when he spread them open on the windowsill, and he could feel the touch of a crimson gaze on his back.
He winced to himself. None of that was supposed to have happened last night. Why did Kurogane have to start talking about things that didn't concern him? Why did he have to do it in the privacy of the bathroom? Why was Fai himself so weak-willed that he couldn't resist the larger man's allure?
It took some effort to wrench his thoughts back to the runes, to painstakingly press ink-stained metal into paper and carve familiar glyphs along the edges of the page. (He hadn't slept at all, thoughts swinging between dead blue eyes and Kurogane like a damning pendulum.) Once he'd focused, though, it was easy to fall into the rhythm of the pen strokes, the runes coming faster now that he'd had practice replicating the spell. The sheer magnitude of the area his magic was spread over was daunting - he would need fifty, or maybe even a hundred paper birds to absorb them all.
How long until Ashura-ou sensed his magic?
The thought jerked his pen nib across the notebook; Fai swore under his breath. The spell was ruined, and he'd have to start over on a new page. For a brief second, he squeezed his eyes shut. Why was it that his orders had to clash? That he had to resort to magic was because he was under orders to protect (not because he loved) the princess. Then there was Ashura-ou, who would track him by his magic to force a killing blow out of Fai. But Fai couldn't kill him.
He swallowed a mouthful of guilt, flipped the page. There were still eighty or so absorption spells he'd need, probably. How did Kurogane even think he'd be able to help?
Fai drew the runes for another spell, then another, and another, until the sun shone bright in his face and on his notebook, and the sleepy city outside the window began filling with flying cars and life. Now that the pink glow of sunrise had faded, the signs and posters around the city were vivid, competing for attention. From his vantage point, he could see all sorts of buildings—from low eateries to tall residential tower blocks and offices, and even a garden tucked away behind some skyscrapers.
"Morning!" Mokona trilled behind him. "Syaoran is already awake! And Kuro-rin! And... Why is Fai behind the curtain?"
He flipped the notebook shut in a hurry, set his pen down and propped his chin in his hands, so by the time the little fuzzy creature bounded up to him and climbed up the side of his shirt, he was merely staring out into the bustling city, making a show of lifting the curtain off himself. "Morning, Mokona, Syaoran-kun! I was admiring the city, see? Isn't it beautiful?"
Kurogane snorted some paces back. Fai winced, pushed himself onto his feet—his ankle still hurt.
Light gushed across the room when he drew the curtains proper; Kurogane and Syaoran both averted their faces from the glare, and Sakura remained fast asleep in bed.
"The feather is in this city, isn't it?" Fai asked the creature perched on his shoulder. Syaoran was looking curiously at him, and Kurogane was— Well, he didn't want to think about the ninja.
Mokona nodded, tiny face screwed up in concentration. "It's very close, somewhere on this island."
"So we'll grab a bite and get down to it," Kurogane deduced. He stood and stretched, joints popping. "Kid, wake the princess up, will you?"
"Always so practical, Kuro-tan!" Fai sang. The banter was part of their morning ritual; he couldn't avoid it even though he wanted to and had all but forced it from his throat—the children would have noticed something suspicious otherwise. But he was most certainly not looking at the taller man.
Kurogane made a rude noise, turned his back on him.
"Kuro-rin needs a hug! He's so grumpy!" Mokona declared, and Fai managed a chuckle when the puff ball leaped across the room and affixed itself on the back of Kurogane's head, earning herself an indignant splutter.
Despite all that was wrong between them, Fai couldn't help but smile.
Syaoran's stare bounced from him to Kurogane, then the bathroom, and he flushed a bright red. Fai pretended not to notice. While none of the others was looking, he tucked the notebook discreetly beneath his arm, then bent to grab his walking stick, waving it towards the door.
"Well, I'll head on downstairs to check on the breakfast," he said cheerily. "Fai-mommy needs to make sure the food is good and nutritious for the kids."
With a fond glance at the sleeping princess, Fai hobbled quickly towards the exit.
Kurogane hadn't spoken, hadn't moved, but he could feel those hot red eyes latch onto him the moment he reached the edge of the man's peripheral vision. He gulped, stared fixedly forward, and turned at the door to wave at Syaoran. "Don't be long, everyone!"
As he pulled the door shut, there was no mistaking the low mutter of "Idiot," behind, and his stomach gave a slippery little flop.
By the time the rest of his travelling group had trooped into the dining room and woven through the breakfast crowd, Fai had finished another three spells, tucked his notebook out of sight, and was in the middle of buttering flat round buns and little muffins from the teetering stack sitting in front of him. It was a corner table, one of those that would allow him to watch every exit so he wouldn't be surprised by the kids (and Kurogane) showing up in the middle of him scribbling runes on paper.
"Morning, Fai-san!" Sakura called, hurrying over with a wide grin the moment she spotted him. "Syaoran-kun said you'd left ahead of us, I'm so sorry I made you wait!"
He smiled up at her, surprised. She was apologizing to him? He'd neglected to check the fuel readings on the car yesterday, placing them both in danger, and yet here she was, apologizing. To him. Fai swallowed dryly; his chest ached.
"Morning, Sakura-chan! It's no big deal," he said in a controlled, easy voice, and if the smile he flashed was a little shaky, it was definitely not because it meant anything. "I've got some bread and muffins here, but you might want to look at the rest of the food—it's a buffet."
The concept of a buffet was familiar to all of them, including Syaoran, even if he had not grown up in the luxuries of a palace. Sakura turned to cast a curious eye over the little spread of breakfast food, while Kurogane had gone ahead, and Syaoran hovered nearby (with Mokona on his head), torn between waiting for his princess and examining the types of sustenance this world considered breakfast.
To Fai's surprise, she waved the boy ahead with a beam. "Don't wait for me, Syaoran-kun, I'll be there in a minute!"
"Sakura-chan?" he questioned, watched as Syaoran gave her a hesitant smile and turned towards the long, if undecorated, table on one side of the dining room. (There were tea and coffee pots to one side, jugs of juice and milk, and on the other side of the table lay large baskets of buns and muffins, some gas fire-heated trays of sausage and omelette. Jams and butter came in sealed little plastic tubs, and there was even a waffle machine in the whole ensemble.)
She took a seat across from him, green eyes bright and alert, features soft with shyness. "I wanted to thank you, Fai-san—I didn't get a chance to when we were in Nagare, but I wanted you to know that I really appreciate you and Kurogane-san taking the trouble to make those bleeding cloths for me."
He blinked at her. It seemed so long ago that they were shopping in the market square and sitting around a table sewing buttons into cotton. "How do you like them?" he asked with a smile, anxiously. "I've never made them before, so—"
"They remind me of home," she told him with a brighter smile, and his chest hurt all the more for it.
"You don't have to thank me," he answered lightly. (Just seeing her smile was enough.) "I just thought I'd help."
"But Yukito-san said I have to thank those who have tried to help," she countered, her gaze faraway. Her face fell then, and he looked on in concern. "It's just that I haven't been able to help much on this journey, and it's always you or Syaoran-kun or Kurogane-san who end up getting hurt because of me."
"Don't say that," he blurted, setting his butter knife and muffin down to hold her hands across the rectangular table. "Sakura-chan, we—"
"We help because we want to," Kurogane interrupted gruffly. He set his plate down (Fai had barely a moment to tense) before dropping into the seat next to Fai.
A warm, solid thigh bumped into his; he felt his insides clench up. Why would Kurogane sit next to him—
Syaoran headed towards them then, Mokona on his shoulder and his wiry form visible from over the seated guests, and Fai drew a breath in understanding. Oh. Kurogane had left the other chair so the boy could sit with his princess.
"Thank you too, Kurogane-san," Sakura said sweetly. "I'm so grateful that you made a bleeding cloth for me."
From the corner of his eye, Fai saw shades of red creep up the ninja's neck. (For a warrior of his disposition, the man sure blushed more than one would expect. It was endearing, Fai dreaded to realize.) Kurogane made a noncommittal noise. "Yeah. well."
Syaoran came to sit by Sakura, plate full of food, though he looked over in barely-masked concern that Sakura hadn't any breakfast in front of her.
"Come on," Fai said uneasily, only too keen on fleeing the attention that he just knew was on him. (Would Kurogane ever stop watching him with those too-sharp eyes? Would he, himself, stop being so susceptible to this attraction that hung between them?) "Let's get some breakfast, Sakura-chan!"
(None of them, Fai noted, opposed the way he wrapped the buttered buns and muffins in paper napkins later on and stashed them in Mokona's gaping mouth, with a promise that the creature would get an extra treat for her efforts.
It especially felt like a shared secret, when even Syaoran and Sakura contributed their own wrapped packages to the stash. Kurogane grumbled. He wasn't looking at the rest of them when he, too, added a handful of pears to the collection.)
A/N: To be honest I have no idea what genre this fic is. It's like.. family and drama and humor and slice of life and romance (and angst?) all rolled into one. :P
Thank you, as usual, for taking the time to review! :)