Chapter Twenty

This time, Kurogane waited until the kid came back before allowing himself to fall asleep. With Seishirou wandering around Infinity, even the simple training exercises carried risks. We don't have time to ease up, though, the ninja thought. He'll have to face that bastard one day, and he might not have me to back him up.

With those thoughts in mind, he busied himself with menial tasks around the apartment. Cleaning had never been part of his daily routine until Princess Tomoyo had sent him on this journey, and even then, the mage had done most of the housework during their travels. He'd often heard people complaining about household chores, so it surprised him to find scrubbing of countertops soothing.

The mage busied himself sewing up the holes in the couch. Kurogane remembered the white blades of his sword blast carving deep gouges into the furniture. Though they'd picked the cottony bits off the floor, no one had gotten around to actually fixing anything until now. "Kurogane, should I use plain black stitching for this, or should I run to the market and get something that matches the couch?"

"What the hell do I care?" he demanded, as cleaning countertops lost all relaxing attributes.

"Black thread would look strange on such a light couch, but I don't know where we'd find the right color."

"Use the black, then."

The mage examined the spool of black thread doubtfully, then started unwinding it. Kurogane returned his attention to the grease spot that had been bugging him for the past five minutes.

"I'm surprised you're so engrossed in cleaning," the mage said, wrapping his lips around the end of the string, then threading it through the eye of a needle. "Is it because you're worried about Syaoran-kun?"

Hearing the magician say the boy's name so casually after last night irked him. The washcloth in his hand squeaked as it moved across the counter.

"You're pressing too hard. You should try moving the cloth in circles."

Kurogane turned. "Why the hell did you have to go and say that?"

Confusion swept across the blond man's features. "I'm just trying to give you some friendly advice."

"No, what you said last night. Why the hell did you have to say that about the kid?"

For a moment, the magician's eye glowed gold. He looked down. "He didn't overhear."

"How would you know?"

"He didn't say anything."

"In Tokyo, I told you to figure out where you stand. Either you hate him, or you don't. Stop saying shit like that and pretending to be sorry afterwards."

The magician smiled, but his grin held no warmth. "You must be used to hating me by now, huh?

Kurogane sighed heavily, throwing the washcloth down on the kitchen counter. "I don't care if you hate him. I don't care if you want him dead. All I care about is getting back to my home world, and that'll be a lot easier if I don't have you working against me every second of the day."

Fai glanced up suddenly, head turned toward the princess's room. Sakura peeked out from the doorway, looking troubled. "Ah! Sakura-chan, it's wonderful to see you again. Is your leg troubling you?"

She shook her head. "It doesn't hurt so much anymore. I'm getting used to the leg brace."

"That's great."

There was a pause. "Fai-san . . ." she said, after a few seconds had ticked by. "Do you really hate Syaoran-kun?"

Kurogane watched half a dozen emotions flit across the magician's face before he settled on a pained smile. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"It's just . . . when Seishirou showed up the other day . . ." she trailed off, seeming unaware of her suddenly attentive audience. "If Syaoran-kun hadn't been there, things might have gone a lot worse than they did, so . . . even if he's not the same, I was still glad he was here."

Fai's features softened a bit. That's genuine remorse, Kurogane thought. He can't bring himself to like the boy, but he cares about the princess more than anyone besides . . . No, I suppose the kid traveling with us now doesn't feel the same way as the one before.

"It's true things might've turned out differently if he hadn't been here," Fai allowed. "But he might not have come here at all if Syaoran-kun had been elsewhere."

Sakura thought about this for a moment, withdrawing into herself. "Seishirou didn't come here just looking for Syaoran-kun."

A grave silence pressed down on all of them, until Kurogane broke it. "What else was he looking for?"

"Seishirou said he needed someone with magic. We know Syaoran has the magic he used in Tokyo, when he was fighting . . ." She broke off for a minute, a little flash of pain shooting across her face. "But Seishirou also knew about my magic, and yours, Fai-san. He said that if Syaoran wouldn't go with him, my magic would serve just as well."

"Don't you worry about a thing, Sakura-chan. Kurogane and I are watching out for you."

"That's not what I'm saying!" she almost yelled, taking a step forward and wincing as her crippled leg came down hard on the floor. Heedless of the pain, she swept on. "It wasn't Syaoran-kun's fault Seishirou came here. None of this is his fault, so . . . please, stop talking about him like it is."

"Sakura-chan . . ."

So she finally found the guts to speak up, Kurogane thought, crossing his arms out in front of him. Before anyone could say anything else, the door swung open. The ninja turned, expecting the kid.

It wasn't.

His face slammed into the ground as the grass tangled around his ankles. Syaoran sat up, feeling the trail of warmth running down the front of his face. "Ow."

Kneeling down like he was, the top of the grass was level with his waist. If he recalled correctly, the only place within Mokona's range to have grass this overgrown was the park where he did his training. I'm closer than I thought.

He wiped the blood from his chin, then stood, trying to orient himself. The tall grass was mostly on the eastern edge of the park, he knew. He walked until he hit the more solid sidewalk, then turned in the direction of the apartment complex. He was almost positive he'd be able to recognize the massive building, especially now that he paying more attention to his other senses.

The wail of a siren pierced the air, a familiar sound after several weeks in the city. Syaoran tuned it out, more focused on the textures of the buildings he passed. The Ephemeral Apartments were one of the few brick structures left in this part of the city, a factor that, along with the chipped paint of the wood-framed windows, added to its overall cheapness and lack of tenants. He'd know it when he reached it.

The sirens grew suddenly louder, turning onto the street he was walking beside. Sounds like a fire truck, he thought, continuing to move forward with the cautious walk of a blind man. The air was warmer than it had been earlier, the bite of autumn absent despite the late hour. Perhaps a warm front had pushed its way through the seasonal air to lend the city some warmth.

The sirens were so loud now that he was having trouble hearing the other sounds around him. The first of the fire engines passed by, the movement warping the sound for just a moment. Another followed close behind, squealing just as loudly. Underneath this cacophony, Syaoran could hear sounds of panic: crying children, distressed women, shouting strangers. And beneath that, another sound, like the static on a television, but slower and less predictable.

Syaoran stopped, taking in these sensations. The warm air around him had taken on a stuffy edge, like the heat coming out of an open oven. The heat was not quite so alarming as the smell.

Like ashes, he thought, disquieted. It smells like ashes.

Kurogane had said only to take the blindfold off if he ran into Seishirou, but there was no way he could've predicted this kind of disaster. Syaoran tore the piece of black fabric away from his eyes and squinted at the brilliant orange light coming off the side of the building. The clouds of orange roiled and twisted, throwing off opaque plumes of smoke every second or so. Adrenaline pulsed through his veins, overtaking everything.

Racing down the sidewalk, tugging along her young child, a woman opened her mouth to wail out the truth that was just occurring to him. "The apartments are on fire!"