I'm feeling a lot better about my writing - thank you all SO MUCH for the kind words; they really helped bring me out of that slump :) :) :)

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me.

when flight falls short

(Part 4)

The night couldn't roll around soon enough. Kurogane was sweaty and grimy, and he wished there was a shower in the day's schedule. It had been easy enough to find a job—the island had a large cargo port to meet the demands of its occupants—and he appreciated the hard labor, if it meant keeping his body in shape for fights that might occur whenever. Through the rest of the day, he had lifted crates from airships with forklifts, and hauled sacks and boxes of all manner onto waiting trucks.

Mostly, he tried not to think about Fai.

That had been a stupid move on his part. For some time there, the mage had been honestly happy—it was in the faint adrenaline-induced flush on his cheeks, the way his eyes were lit with satisfaction and quiet triumph.

Kurogane hadn't thought that the idiot would lower his guard so far down; then again, he'd never gone against Fai in some sort of a race just for the hell of it, not driven by argument or fear or necessity, but by the boyish thrill of competition. And it had been a fair game at that.

They had not needed words when agreeing on a meeting place—that they didn't only intrigued Kurogane further. Without Fai's lies and masks, how much of a team could they be? Against the Kishiim in Koryo, they had fought together, and there had been potential. In Outo, Fai had been poised to fight at his back, if it weren't for the darts that were useless against oni.

He decided not to mull over it. There was no speculating about the future, only bending things to his will by the strength of his hands.

But he still shouldn't have kissed the idiot. Not like that. Damn it.

With great reluctance, Kurogane thumbed the wadded-up notes in his pocket and started his car, merging into the thick flow of rush-hour traffic. It didn't take very long for him to arrive at the car repair shop—he could have even walked the distance, but the car cut down on time and served as temporary lodging, as Fai had declared earlier.

Syaoran, Sakura and the pork bun were sitting on a metal bench to the side of the repair shop when he landed in front of them. They had broken from their conversation the moment they spotted him, and came walking over when he frowned.

"Kurogane-san!" the kids chorused. Mokona bounced into the car and patted his face with a shrill cry of, "Kuro-daddy!"

"I'm not a daddy!" he protested, swatting the bit of fluff away. "Bother someone else."

"But Kuro-pon is Mokona's only person to bother, isn't he?" Fai said lightly from the other side of his car. Kurogane turned and glowered at him—he'd heard the wizard's car approaching, but had not bothered to acknowledge it until now. "Since the rest of us likes her!"

"Everyone likes Mokona!" the creature cheered, bouncing into Fai's outstretched palms, and he huffed at her departure.

Fai stepped out of his car and made his way over to the children; Kurogane didn't see any point in getting out just yet. "Did you have fun, Sakura-chan, Syaoran-kun?"

"Yes, I did!" the princess chirped. On closer observation, Kurogane could see smudges of dirt and oil on her clothes. "Syaoran-kun and I learned a lot."

"That's good," Fai told her with a too-wide smile, and looked at Kurogane. "What about Kuro-daddy? Did you find a job?"

There wasn't any sign of the blond's earlier rejection or shock, just the cheerful mask that ground at his nerves. He grit his teeth. "Yes."

"I was thinking," and here Fai paused, tapping a finger to his chin. He was looking at the children (mostly at Sakura). "What about we rent a room for an hour? Then we can all wash up and shower. I think you'll like it."

The boy frowned. "But Fai-san, I thought you said we need to be saving up for now—"

"Personal hygiene is very important," the mage said lightly, brushing the question away with another wave. "I'm sure we'll rest better if we're clean, right?"

Syaoran had a point. Kurogane thinned his lips, watched the blond. There was something he wasn't saying. And if he was willing to drop money on a creature comfort like showers— "You got a job," he concluded. Fai slid blue, blue eyes over to him, still smiling that bland smile. "And it pays pretty damn well."

The grin grew wider. "Now, why would Kuro-myu say that? I'm just concerned about the children's welfare. Surely we can afford this."

"What kind of job is it, then?" he countered.

At that, the mage's grin turned sly, lucid eyes narrowed to slits. "Daddy doesn't trust me! It's a proper job. You don't have to worry."

Curiosity was building on the children's faces (Kurogane hid his). He pressed further. "There are lots of things that can be considered a 'proper job'."

"Ah, well, I'm working at a cafe," Fai said brightly, looking at the kids. "It's a nice place, you know. It pays well."

Kurogane watched him carefully—were it any other person talking about a job at a food place, he would have been more inclined to believe them with a pinch of salt. But not Fai. Nothing slipped from the empty facade, though, and he knew better than to push it now. "Fine," he conceded. "What's for dinner?"

Later that night, when they were parked on an empty rooftop and the children were asleep, Fai curled up in the driver's seat of his car, shining a little LED flashlight on a new notebook, both of which he'd bought earlier. (It was very convenient that he was working in the mall (and that he'd been paid at the end of the day)—there were inexpensive stationery shops to be found in the middle reaches of the building, tucked out of sight.)

Sakura was snoring lightly in the reclined passenger seat, a thin blanket draped over her slender frame. In between inscribing his spells, Fai looked over at her to ensure that he wasn't shining light in her eyes, and that she was still sound asleep. She had gone out quick—the day must have taken a toll, more on her than Syaoran. This entire journey had to be hard on her.

Despite the way they pooled money together for necessities, he'd dallied briefly on the idea of having the kids spend their earnings on themselves instead—wasn't that what good parents did? The people of this world seemed to think so. (Eavesdropping at the food court was certainly a convenient way to amass information.) He saw the way Sakura's gaze lingered on things in shops they passed sometimes (once a hairpin, another time some fruits). It would have been a marvelous idea, except that both Syaoran and Sakura would want to contribute to their journey, sweet kids that they were. And she was a princess, no less.

(Fai was a prince, he knew— No, he was a nobody now.)

He ducked his head to concentrate on the spells. There had been some time after his shift on the piano; he had completed another four spells, stomach tight with worry that Ashura-ou would be on his way here any minute. Playing the piano had helped. Staying up at night did not. At the moment, he'd finished forty spells; it was still a far cry from the hundred or so that he'd probably need, and he was starting to wonder if this was the world in which he'd deal his beloved father's death.

Maybe he'd hit Ashura-ou with the sleeping spell again (but he wouldn't be susceptible to the same spell twice). Or maybe he'd transport the traveling group to another world, and hope Mokona could move them from there. Perhaps he could slip into a different world himself, have Ashura-ou follow him, and if he died there by his liege's hands, well, at least there wouldn't be red eyes watching him go.

A light tap sounded at his window, inches from his ear.

Fai started, almost lost his grip on his pen. He didn't have to look closely at the shadow to know it was Kurogane. He corrected his grip on the writing instrument, closed the notebook. Wondered if the other man would leave him alone if he pretended not to hear him.

"I'm not waiting all night," came the low mutter, drifting in from the lowered window panes.

"You're going to wake Sakura-chan like that," he whispered uneasily, looking over at his companion. (It had been agreed that the kids would each share a car with an adult. There would be less embarrassment, and the black car would have been insufficient for both Fai and Kurogane to stretch out in it, anyway.)

"All the more reason for you to get out here."

His stomach fluttered again, and he left the notebook on the dashboard, slowly dragging himself out into the night (as if doing that would help convince him that he really wasn't interested) and allowing the door to click loosely shut behind him.

Kurogane was waiting by the shadowy edge of the building, back against the low concrete parapet. A small bottle of wine and two sake cups sat next to him.

"Booze, Kuro-tan?" Fai sat eagerly down on the other side of the frosted glass bottle, reached for it without preamble. "I didn't think you had any."

"Went out for some while you were in the shower." Those red eyes seemed especially lambent under the pale green moonlight. They slid towards Fai, watched as he tipped precious alcohol into the cups (the same ones as they used in Nagare, he realized).

"So kind of you to share," he crowed, setting the bottle on the concrete and leaning back to sip at it. Notes of honey and pear filled his nostrils. "You're trying to bribe me, aren't you."

Kurogane scoffed. "I'm not that underhanded."

The night was balmy, the air cool and dry against his skin, and Fai relaxed some, drew his knees up to his chest. The rooftop they were camping out on wasn't much of anything—no amenities, just large, flat concrete slabs and power lines, and a dark, echoing stairwell. The sky was speckled thinly with stars that shone even with the lights of the city around them.

They nursed their drinks in silence for a few minutes.

"The shower was unnecessary," Kurogane began after some time, tipping his head back to look at the inky sky.

Fai shrugged. He saw no reason to lie where the children were concerned (not if it didn't involve his mission). "I believe Sakura-chan is still bleeding. She isn't like us. I don't want her to—"

"To be uncomfortable?" The ninja released a huff of maybe-amusement. "You heard the witch. There are worse worlds out there."

"Still. She's a princess." He looped his arms around his knees, rested his chin on them. "If you had a princess, you'd want her to have nice things too."

"Mm." Kurogane was quiet for a while.

"You do, don't you?" Fai blurted. At the other man's questioning glance, he clarified. "Have a princess. You mentioned a Princess Tomoyo when we were in Outo."

"Yeah." Kurogane threw back his wine and poured himself another cup. "I guess I would. Give her nice things."

He felt his lips pull up in a smile. "Kuro-chan is definitely daddy material."

The man snorted. "Quit that. For all that you said about saving up for the feather, you're spending money just as easily."

Fai sent him a crooked grin. "I think we'll have enough left for the feather."

"You sound confident."

"Well, maybe. You're the one who bought booze, Kuro-sama." Fai drained his cup, closed his eyes to savor the curl of warmth in his belly, before dispensing more liquor for himself. "That's even more terrible, isn't it?"

"Why's this terrible."

"Because you might have bad intentions with this," he explained with a grin, rocked the cup between his fingers. "Kuro-tan is a big, black wolf—"

"Shut up." Even in the shadow, it was obvious that there was a shade of dark color on the man's throat that was most certainly not an influence of the wine. "Your job. I don't believe that's where you're really working."

"But it is."

"Last I heard, waiting tables doesn't earn you enough to pay for a room just so we can get clean."

"Mm, Kuro-pon is very sharp," he conceded. As strange as it was, the food court owner, Taran, had not seemed quite that suspiciously ominous by the time Fai ended his shift. "But I am working legitimately at a cafe, and not one of those kinky ones, mind you."

Kurogane choked. "Yeah, whatever," he finally said.

The liquor sat in his middle like a comforting weight, and he grinned. "Kuro-rin has a dirty mind—"

"I do not!" the ninja snapped.

"But—" Fai was the one who cut himself off this time. He wasn't going to think about last night, and he sure as hell wasn't going to talk about it. Not even the kiss. "Well, what sort of job did you land?"

"Hard labor. At the port." Kurogane poured himself more wine; the amount left in the bottle was starting to seem pathetic.

"Sounds like what big, strong Daddy would do."

"I'm not a daddy!" the larger man bristled, glowered at him. "Are you done with the birds yet?"

Fai sobered up. "Why do you care about that?"

Kurogane bit back an impatient noise. "Just answer me."

"No." It sounded petulant, but it wasn't like the ninja had any business talking about this, anyway.

"You were so eager to release them that night in Nagare," Kurogane pointed out. "And you used a hell lot more magic here. There's more magic to erase in this place, if you ask me."

Fai drew a sharp breath. He didn't remember telling the younger man that much about his spells. But Kurogane was sharp (that was part of the attraction, wasn't it?) and... he was someplace safe, where Fai could hide and forget. They were silent for another long stretch again before Fai answered, "It's not like you can help, anyway."

"Try me."

He wanted to laugh. "You're a growly bad ninja, Kuro-rin, I can't see you sitting down and drawing spells. And anyway, the magic involved is complex, I don't know if I'm even doing it right."

"Don't give me that crap again. I've seen what you've done." Kurogane shot him a piercing stare, and Fai swallowed.

He busied himself with dispensing the last bit of wine, then brought the bottle to his mouth to lap the last drops of clear fluid off the glass thread.

The other man made a quiet, pained sound low in his throat. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" He slid his eyes over to the ninja, ran his tongue over his lips. (Fai almost wished Kurogane would kiss him again.)

"Nothing." Kurogane took his sake cup and knocked the liquor back.

"Hey!" Fai protested, leaning forward with a frown. "That was mine!"

"Not anymore." A slow grin crept up the other's mouth. "Besides, I bought it."

"Kuro-wan is a thief," Fai grumbled, stunned beyond believe that Kurogane had just stolen his booze from beneath his nose. "Even if you bought it, we pool our money together," he said resentfully.

"So that was fair play." Kurogane set the cup down, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

They stared at each other for a long moment, hearts thumping, snared in the desire that hung between them. Fai realized that Kurogane wasn't going to initiate anything again—he would have to mend what he did... And he shouldn't.

He really shouldn't.

Fai gulped, tore his eyes away, and stood, brushing his pants off. "I need to— I need to sleep."

No, he'd think about Ashura-ou and stay up the rest of the night working on those spells. That worked to his advantage, besides.

Kurogane's stare never left his back as he walked away.

They fell into a routine of sorts after the first day. Without a solid base they could stay in, Fai took Sakura out to procure breakfast for their travelling group in the mornings, and washing up took place at the restrooms of their respective workplaces. At the end of the day, they met up back at the car repair shop, bought a simple dinner to share, and rented a room for an hour so they could shower. No one grumbled about having to sleep in cars on the rooftops of buildings.

It was during their fourth night on the floating island that Fai suggested, over a dinner of curried chicken on flatbread, "Syaoran-kun, why don't you share the blue car with Sakura-chan tonight? I have something that needs to be done anyway, and I trust you to protect her while she sleeps. Mokona too."

Kurogane glanced sharply at him; the children looked at each other and flushed like little crimson tomatoes.

Mokona bounced from Sakura's head to Syaoran's lap, stole a chunk of the boy's food. She puffed her chest out proudly. "Mokona is very responsible!"

"But can't it wait for the morning, Fai-san?" Sakura questioned innocently, bread lifted halfway to her mouth.

He smiled and shrugged at her, patting his bandaged ankle. "You see, I thought I should finally be seeing a doctor about my foot. There just isn't time to go during the day."

"I'll drive you there." There was an obstinate set to Kurogane's jaw; Fai felt his smile freeze.

"Well, you needn't bother, Kuro-daddy," he lilted, waving limply. "I'm sure I'll be fine. But I'll need to borrow your car."

"No. I'll drive." The ninja narrowed his eyes; the children looked warily between them.

"But I haven't had problems with driving," Fai hedged, suddenly nervous. The other man could be forceful if he wanted, and he knew better than to expect Kurogane to back down easily. He kept his smile though. "Are you afraid that I'd be lonely without you?"

Kurogane glowered at him, and Syaoran and Sakura both tensed. It was subtle taunts like this that provoked dangerous reactions from the larger man—they had spent countless occasions watching from the sidelines while Kurogane chased him down, attempting to bash his head in. "I'm more afraid of you crashing the car, idiot."

"But I can drive!" Fai whined, "Are you drunk, Kuro-rin? Should we have a temporary ban on booze?"

"Kuro-daddy's being nice to Fai-mommy!" Mokona chirped loudly from Syaoran's shoulder. Kurogane swung a threatening glare at the creature; Syaoran flexed his limbs, ready to back away. (More than once, unfortunately, large fists had clipped him on the ear or shoulder when Mokona dodged at the last moment, leaving him open to attack. Syaoran had learned his lesson.)

"Shut up, pork bun," Kurogane bristled. "I'm concerned about the car, is all."

"Well then, how about Syaoran-kun and Sakura-chan sleep in your car, and I'll drive mine," Fai declared brightly.

Kurogane twitched, opening his mouth as if he were going to protest. "Whatever," he groused eventually, turning back to his food. "I don't care."

Except that he still did two hours later, when Mokona and the children were sound asleep, and Fai twisted his key in the ignition. A low rumbling sounded from the engine.

The ninja opened the driver's side door, grasped a fistful of his shirt, hauled him bodily out of the seat.

"Kuro—" he yelped, staggering to his feet and throwing a hand out so he wouldn't have to rest his weight on his sprained ankle. "What—"

"I'm driving," Kurogane said resolutely. He slipped around Fai and settled into the driver's seat, adjusting it to give himself more legroom. The car door shut soundly between them. "Get in."

Fai didn't allow himself much time to dwell on how exactly the ninja toppled his plans in one fell swoop with no effort at all, and didn't exactly think about why, either. (He wasn't going to admit to that growing weakness.) Instead, he protested. "You agreed not to drive," he hissed, "I thought you didn't—"

"I didn't promise anything, mage." Intense red eyes fixed upon him. "Now get in. I'm not repeating myself."

With all his strength, he probably couldn't pull Kurogane out of the car. And he wasn't about to use magic. Fai chewed on the inside of his cheek. The only options now were to feign ignorance and go to a doctor, or let the ninja in on his plans to release the magic-absorption spells. He limped over to the other car door and eased himself gingerly into the seat.

"Got your paper birds?" Kurogane asked brusquely, looking towards the backseat, where he'd stacked the ninety-three finished spells in a plastic carrier. "I don't suppose they fold themselves."

Fai forced a laugh. It figured that he didn't even have to explain his motivations to the younger man. (That was a very frightening thought.) Those eyes saw more than he anticipated, stripped him bare. He shivered. "What am I going to do about you, Kuro-tan?"

It would be a pity to kill this man, observant and intelligent as he was.

Kurogane made a derisive noise. He brought the powder-blue car up in a hover, then steered them in the direction of the refueling station they'd stopped by on the first day. "Nothing. I've been waiting for you to finish with the damn birds. The kid said you haven't been sleeping the past two nights."

"Syaoran-kun?" Fai frowned, thought back on the times he'd had his head bowed over his notebook, with the world outside shut out. He hadn't thought that his staying up would have been obvious, especially to someone outside his car. "Well, it shouldn't matter to you, Kuro-pon."

"If you're going to crash this car with your sleep deprivation, then hell yeah, it matters to me," the ninja retorted. "We'll need to sell it to get the feather back."

Fai tried hard not to let slip a provocative taunt. Instead, he reached for the bag of spells, pulling it open with a crinkle in his lap. "You don't have much confidence in me."

"Damn straight I don't."

It was narrow in this car, to the point where their arms and shoulders brushed with every movement. With Sakura, the lack of space had not been nearly as suffocating. Kurogane's heat and the mere intensity of who he was seemed to ignite what little oxygen existed in the space between them, and Fai wanted to crash and burn. It would be a relief not to think about Ashura-ou, but—

Fai concentrated on the unease in his gut. His fingers shook a little when he pulled the first spell out, touched the faintest trace of his magic to the empty square in the middle. The runes glowed blue; he folded the pliable paper with deft fingers.

For long minutes, he concentrated on folding the birds, and Kurogane drove in silence, hardly looking at him. (It didn't mean none of the other's attention was anchored on him, however.)

"How long do you think it'll take?" Kurogane eventually asked, when he pulled to a stop along the shadowy streets surrounding the brightly-lit fuel station, with its thick columns and cars rolling in and out.

Fai pursed his lips. "I'll release ten here. It'll be a lot quicker than before."

He gathered the folded birds in his palms, blew lightly on them so they took off towards the fuel station. They fluttered with soft, papery beats of their wings; Fai watched and hoped that no one thought them threatening—they didn't need to be hunted down, on top of being followed by his king. His fingers twitched.

"That isn't your magic," Kurogane muttered.

He slid a sidelong glance towards the ninja, smiled enigmatically. "That means I'm special, doesn't it?"

Kurogane huffed. He folded his arms across his chest. "If you're so mule-headed about not using magic, then why can't you make spells like that to help us, instead of sitting on your sorry ass?"

"But that'll put you out of a job," Fai sang. He returned his attention to folding the rest of the birds while the other man watched on. "And Kuro-min needs all the manly jobs he can get, doesn't he?"

"Don't be a moron." Kurogane rolled his eyes, reached over to knock Fai on the head. (He squawked, shied away, and Kurogane cuffed him on the chin instead.) "If you have a collection of spells like that, then you wouldn't even have to rely on your magic when you need it."

Shocked, Fai turned to stare at him. "How— That's— That's very clever of you, Kuro-pyon!" He'd thought briefly about that, but— "You're forgetting that I don't want you to rely on me. It'll make you weak, you know."

The ninja clicked his tongue impatiently. "You really are an idiot. This isn't about whether I or the kids become dependent on you. If you have paper spells that can do what you did four days ago, or in Nagare, then we wouldn't be sitting here trying to erase your footprints."

He had a point. Fai stared, and listened to the pounding of his heart. If he used pre-made spells instead of his own magic... "But you overestimate my abilities," he mumbled weakly. "I'm just a simple magician—"

"Are you really looking for a beating?" Kurogane snapped. "You did the building wards in Nagare as well. Defense and magic manipulation are two different things."

Fai gulped, looked away, his fingers creasing paper. "Kuro-rin knows so much about magic—"

"Don't change the subject."

He sighed, relented by a fraction. "The paper spells are weak. I'm sure you've noticed that."

"Then make them stronger."

"It's not that simple," Fai returned, irritation crawling beneath his skin. It was probably more than what he should have revealed, but arguing with the other man helped take his mind off Ashura (and Fai, Fai, Fai, the other reason why he hadn't wanted to sleep). "Why do you think there're so many of these birds?"

Kurogane lifted an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."

"No." Fai pursed his lips, dropped his attention back to folding birds.

"Seems stupid to me when you keep going back to correct your mistakes." Kurogane tipped his head back, closed his eyes. "It's better to avoid screwing up entirely."

Fai remained silent. Before Nagare, there had been no incidents dire enough that his magic was warranted. Would things return to normal from the next world onward? Or was this unavoidable use of magic the new normal? Should he prepare a collection of spells anyway? (But that would be acknowledging that the ninja was right, wouldn't it.)

"The birds are moving," Kurogane pointed out suddenly. He started the car up again, following the trail of fluttering paper. Surprisingly enough, those who had seen the birds did not pursue their unnatural existence, and the paper constructs were now making their way slowly along the streets of the floating island.

Fai blew on the next set of ten; the birds took off in a flurry of wings. They moved ahead in silence, until they were on the edge of the island, with the city lights behind them and the vast darkness of the sky ahead, lit only by twinkling, aloof stars. The birds which had absorbed their fill of magic and returned had been unfolded; Fai stashed them in the glove compartment until he was ready to contain them properly.

Abruptly, Kurogane turned the key in the ignition; the vibrations through the car cut off, leaving an empty, still silence in their wake.

"Kuro-rin?" Fai tipped his head, glanced towards his (uninvited) companion. The other man shrugged, reached over and grabbed the lit spell sheet from Fai's hands. "You can't just—"

"I'm folding it." Paper rustled in the dark; Fai looked closer in barely concealed shock to see what Kurogane was doing.

"Your night vision is remarkable," he observed faintly. (As was the man's memory.) "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not going to wait the entire night for you to fold some damn paper birds," the ninja muttered. "Unlike you, idiot, I have to sleep at some point."

Fai bit his response back. This was his personal undertaking—Kurogane had no business interfering. Yet all the same, the sooner his magic was contained, the sooner he could relax, if at all. "Kuro-wan knows how to make paper creatures," he finally said, starting on a new spell sheet. "And he's good at it."

"It's a tradition in Nihon," the larger man scoffed. He lapsed into silence soon after.

They plowed through the pile of spells, Fai brushing his magic into each piece, and Kurogane taking half of them away, large fingers surprisingly dexterous around intricate folds.

"Whoever's coming after you," Kurogane blurted suddenly. (Fai's stomach squeezed tight; he remained silent.) "Are they strong?"

He swallowed. His fingers had paused on the delicate wing of a bird. "It doesn't concern you, Kuro-sama."

"It's your fight, I know," the large man continued. "But if you can't beat them, then I want to know if I'm stronger, or if they are."

Kurogane grinned, a predator's smile on his lips.

For a moment, Fai held his breath. The larger man was offering a way out, here, offering an alternative to grant Ashura-ou's wish. Ashura wanted to die by Fai's hand; yet, what if Kurogane were the one to deal the killing blow?

Fai was torn—Ashura-ou was a father to him; he could never wish for the man to be dead. But death was the latter's wish. If Fai couldn't do it, if Kurogane were willing... All the same, Fai would be betraying his liege if he wasn't the one who ended Ashura. He'd made that promise.

"Maybe you'll find out someday," he said noncommittally, shrugging.

(But he couldn't escape the thought that Kurogane was somewhere he could hide.)

(Kurogane was warm, and safe, and comforting. It had been very easy to forget around him.)

"Do you want to release these things here, or from the start of the trail?" Kurogane asked suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.

Fai looked up at him and blinked. "We release them from where it began," he said cautiously. "I should do the driving here—I can follow the trail better than you can."

The ninja stared hard at him. "I'm coming with you."

"I'm not so cruel as to leave you stranded on the edge of the island, Kuro-puu," he sang, swung his door open and eased out from the car. "Fai-mommy is a nice person, you know."

Kurogane snorted, though he acquiesced to the seat-swapping anyway, sliding into Fai's vacated seat before Fai had limped over to resume control of the car. "You? Nice? You're full of a hell lot of lies."

Fai chose to ignore that. He sank into the warm, worn seat that Kurogane had left behind, adjusting the seat and buckling his seat belt. "You aren't nice either, Kuro-rin, but you were so kind—you even made Sakura-chan her bleeding cloth!"

The larger man spluttered, glanced out of the window as Fai started the car. The traces of his magic were faint, but he could see them clearly, like ethereal violet wisps extending into the night. Fai guided them off the floating island. "Don't talk about that. You tricked me into it."

"Ah, see, you could have wriggled your way out of it, and you didn't," he crowed back. "Kuro-wan has the softest spot for Sakura-chan. Maybe even more so than Syaoran-kun."

"Fuck you," Kurogane seethed, large fists clenched in fury. "If we fall out of the sky, it's your own damn fault."

He drew a light breath; it wasn't a surprise that the warrior would see him as a source of misfortune. Kurogane's accusation stung. Fai chose to bury it for now—there were things he had to do before the night was through. "It should be Kuro-pon's fault for threatening me, shouldn't it?" he countered lightly. "You should be a bit more well-behaved, you know."

The other man worked his jaw; Fai stepped on the acceleration pedal so he wouldn't have to suffer in this tight silence. He thought briefly about the children asleep in bed, about the princess singing her heart out just that very morning, and inspiration struck.

He hit the radio button.

As it happened, the song that blared out of the speakers was one that had been popular for the past few days, now. Fai smiled, opened his mouth, and sang along to the very catchy chorus.

It didn't even bother him when the the words turned suddenly unintelligible—he knew the lyrics and the tune, and Kurogane turned to him, brow furrowed. He said something loudly, in a language full of consonants and syllables that crashed together, jabbing a finger towards the center console.

"I don't understand you, Kuro-tan," he answered. "It seems that we've moved out of Mokona's translation range."

Kurogane responded with a glower; Fai beamed at him and shrugged.

"I guess this is just as well, isn't it?" he told the ninja as they headed onward into the deep darkness, that was lit only by a star-strewn sky. Further from the city, there seemed to be billions of shining specks above them, unobstructed by clouds or other light sources. None of the constellations looked familiar. "I don't think you understand who I am, or the danger I pose to you."

The only words he was answered with slid over his ears; by the sound of it, they were annoyed grumbles, and Fai grinned anyway. "Well, you're really no fun when we can't understand each other," he continued. "I can't imagine suffering through a world like this with you."

Kurogane watched him through narrowed eyes; he shrugged.

"At least there'll still be booze, don't you think?" he proposed. The radio returned to playing another familiar song, and he dropped the monologue, humming along to the tune instead.

Fai directed the car downwards at a gentle incline close to where the mid-air drop had been. Kurogane looked suspiciously around them, saw nothing, and grit his teeth further.

"I can't help you if you choose to be grumpy," Fai informed him primly, then proceeded to release the rest of the folded birds at long last.

For a while, they watched as the swarm of paper rustled and fluttered around them, magic soaking into them rapidly for their sheer number; the rate would diminish closer to the city, when each bird would be full of magic.

Kurogane jabbed his thumb towards the fluttering flock, said something in that strange language of his. It sounded like a question.

"I can't answer you right now, Kuro-rin," Fai said, patronizingly. "Maybe later."

The man clicked his tongue and jerked his stare away.

It was another long stretch of foreign words wrapped up in a harmony of string instruments, until the lyrics hit Fai again, suddenly comprehensible. He began singing along in the next moment.

"Oi," Kurogane muttered, the expression on his face not quite surly, but close. "Is it safe to leave those birds back there?"

"Would I have done so if it wasn't?" he asked in return. They're powered by the wind, Fai wanted to add, but held back—Kurogane didn't need information like that. As long as those creations had energy enough, they would continue to flutter along the magic trail, and return to him.

"I wouldn't know," Kurogane grumbled. "You're an idiot."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me," Fai replied graciously, complete with a courtly bow. "Kuro-sama's opinions matter the most to me; he is so great and important and strong and handsome—"

Kurogane punched him in the skull. Lightly, but it was a punch nonetheless.

Fai wailed and clutched his head, an expression of absolute horror and betrayal painted across his features. "Kuro— Kuro-pon, you hit Big Kitty! The children will be so upset, oh, I can imagine Sakura-chan crying in utter misery when she sees you carrying the fallen Fai-mommy in—"

"Shut up," Kurogane hissed, reaching over to shake him hard so hard his teeth rattled.

For that reason, perhaps, they landed jarringly back on the edge of the island, back where they'd begun.

"I'm dizzy," Fai whined, swaying in his seat. "You should drive me back, Kuro-rin, I don't think I can move straight—"

"You're a complete nitwit," the ninja muttered, red eyes boring into him. There wasn't as much heat in his words as Fai thought there'd be, though, and he chose not to question why. Perhaps Kurogane was feeling tired. "There's still the doctor after this."

"The doctor?" Fai echoed. "You didn't hit me that hard, even if you like to think of yourself as a big, strong man."

"Your ankle," the ninja grit, enunciating each syllable. "Evidently, your head needs to be checked as well."

"Oh." Fai forced a grin, waved dismissively. "Well, I'm feeling better. It's not as if a doctor can do much else with a sprained ankle."

"You haven't been treating it with ice for the past few days," Kurogane pointed out, tone dry. "That isn't going to help."

"Kuro-pon has been watching me!" he exclaimed brightly. Had he really noticed? "How nice of him!"

It bore exactly the intended effect of averting the man's gaze. Kurogane fell silent. Fai fidgeted in his seat, watched the distance for signs of his paper birds. If Ashura-ou showed up now, it would all have been for nothing... His stomach squeezed.

No flicker of magic appeared; the air did not warp and crack.

When the first of the swarm made its appearance, Fai tightened his fists, barely remembering to breathe as he watched his freedom inch closer. How much more magic could he afford to wield before his liege woke from that magical sleep?

He swallowed dryly, thought about Ashura-ou, and— (Not Fai, not right now.) He couldn't breathe.

Fai fumbled to release his seat belt, stumbled out of the car, sucking in huge gasps of air. Think about the princess, he told himself, think about Syaoran and Mokona and the pianist job I have here.

He was trembling by the time the first of the birds fluttered over to him, bent over the roof of the semi-circular car and breathing unsteadily into his folded arms. Birds clustered about his head and limbs and torso, their wings rustling.

A hand landed on his shoulder.

Fai jerked away and leaped backwards, wincing when his ankle buckled beneath him. Ashura—

Kurogane stepped up and caught him by an elbow, crimson eyes piercing, countenance watchful. "What do we do about the birds?" he said quietly, gesturing towards them.

He slapped the inane grin on his face so quickly that the ninja glowered and jerked him forward, so there were inches between their faces.

"Stop smiling like that," he growled, voice rough with anger. "You aren't fooling me."

"I can try, can't I?" he maintained, still with the smile, but it was a slippery thing, when Kurogane released him and began to snatch at the birds, carefully unfolding them into flat sheets of paper. "Don't," Fai said sharply, "Don't touch that."

The ninja raised an eyebrow, tucked another wrinkled spell sheet under his palm. "Why not? This was what you did before."

"They have nothing to do with you." Fai frowned, snatched at the undone spell sheets. Kurogane yielded them without a fight. "Why do you bother with me?"

He limped back to the open door to grasp the plastic carrier, weighing it down with his notebook while he tucked the unfolded spells in. Kurogane did not answer.

For a long, uncomfortable stretch, all they did was unfold paper birds, until every last one was unfolded and accounted for. Fai allowed himself to relax a little. Not having a trace of magic lingering didn't mean that Ashura-ou wasn't awake, and that he hadn't already pinpointed Fai's location.

Fai was back in the passenger seat, and they were on their way back to the dark rooftop where they'd left the kids when the other man suddenly asked, "Is it something you really want to know?"

He blinked. "What?"

"Why I— Why I'm helping you," Kurogane muttered. He glanced away.

The temptation to find out gnawed in his middle, and Fai opened his mouth to speak. Why would someone so upstanding bother with him? (You're a good person.) But knowledge wasn't always a boon; knowledge could be crippling. Knowledge would draw them closer than they should be. And he might have to kill this man someday. "No," Fai said, "I don't want to know."

Kurogane shrugged. "Fine."

In the end, they landed where the kids were, and the larger man had woken Mokona up for bandages. He forced Fai to sit, wrapped the ankle like he'd done in Nagare, and left Fai to sleep alone in the car, while he sought his rest elsewhere.

Fai was certain he was grateful for the distance. It would have been too awkward for them both to sleep in the little car, too crowded, besides. Yet, as he lay alone staring up into the foam-lined ceiling, he couldn't help but remember reassuring heat, warm and protective enough to keep his nightmares away. It was another regret to add to his growing list.

A/N: There are about 2-3 more parts to this arc, and then we'll be headed into (drumroll) Yama. ;) This chapter sets up a lot for Yama - I don't think we can avoid that particular country for much longer. :P Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing!