Chapter Forty-Two
"Stop right there!" one of the security guards yelled.
Seishirou smiled, holding up the feather they'd stolen. "I'm afraid we need this more than you do."
The Little Wolf edged closer to his side, claws extended to full length. Seishirou could smell the adrenaline in his blood. "Don't be afraid, Little Wolf."
"Stand down!" the leader of the guards yelled. The words must've carried some greater meaning, because the rest of the security guards lifted their stun guns up in preparation for a fight. Seishirou pulled the feather inside him, as he'd once shown his charge. He took a step forward, prompting the guards to retaliate.
The actual fight took less than fifteen seconds. The leader lunged forward, his ruddy face puffed up, a vein pulsing in his forehead. At the movement, the others descending on them like a poorly-coordinated pack of wolves. Seishirou sidestepped the stun gun, noting the look of surprise on the leader's face, and snatched the man's arm. He hit a pressure point in his wrist, causing him to drop the electrified instrument. A moment later, Seishirou threw a vicious kick to his opponent, snapping ribs. The man went down, clutching his side.
The loss of their leader flustered the other security guards. They shied away, moving so their stun guns could be used as defensive weapons. Seishirou saw the Little Wolf kick away two weapons without harming the guards. Another almost hit him in the back, but before it could, the boy turned around and kicked that one away.
He learned a lot from his clone, Seishirou thought, grinning as he took down two more guards. That might give him an edge should they ever meet again.
The pack was beginning to thin out now. Seishirou took down one more man, breaking his dominant hand and throwing him across the shipyard parking lot. The man landed with a thud on his side. "Let's go, Syaoran-kun, before anyone else shows up."
The boy seemed wary of leaving when there were still enemies to fight, but Seishirou had known his clone back in Clow, and he knew the boy would obey. Sure enough, Syaoran was running alongside him a moment later.
They made it out of the shipyard with little fanfare. Seishirou took down a man who'd been lurking in ambush behind a wall, then continued on, darting through the city streets as speeds that made people turn their heads in shock.
Less than ten minutes passed before they reached their hotel. It was a floating structure, requiring them to step onto a wafer-like platforms to reach it. While they ascended, Seishirou spoke. "You disarmed the guards, but you didn't hurt them. Why?"
The boy hesitated, then glanced down. "I'm not a bad person," he murmured, as if he didn't quite believe what he was saying. "I try to avoid fights when I can, and when a confrontation is unavoidable, I try not to hurt anyone."
Seishirou nodded. "Your physical control is impressive. New vampires can snap bones without even meaning to, but you've managed to rein in your strength to a human level."
Surprise flashed across the boy's features. "Thank you."
"Control isn't something I had time to teach you in Clow. Did you come to control yourself before you started your journey, or after?"
He frowned. "There were very few times when I . . . when my clone needed to fight before my journey, so probably after."
Seishirou frowned at the correction. He won't let it go. He doesn't realize those memories belong to him just as much as they belong to the Other. "Syaoran-kun," he said as they reached their floating hotel cube. Seishirou punched in the code they'd been given and stepped off the platform, followed closely by his charge. "I told you before, you don't have to make the distinction between your own memories and the Other's memories."
"And I told you the distinction matters to me."
Seishirou dropped the subject, pulling the feather out of his chest and walking over to the bedroom he'd given Fuuma. Despite the overflowing masses of people in the city, the rooms were actually more spacious than the ones in Infinity. Instead of a closet-sized bedroom for Fuuma, he'd been able to leave his brother in a comfortable double-bed. When Seishirou walked in to check on the ill man, surprise flooded through him. "You're awake."
His brother looked over to him, very much aware of the situation. "Good evening, Brother."
Seishirou hurried to his side and let the feather rest over his brother's chest. "Little Wolf, call room service. Tell them to bring some soup and crackers."
"Okay," the boy's voice called from the other room. A moment later, Seishirou heard the phone being picked up from the desk by the door.
He returned his attention to his brother. "Are you in pain?"
Fuuma chuckled softly, ignoring the question. "So you brought the Little Wolf. I always heard you talk about him, but I never expected you to let him tag along."
"It was the only way," he said. "And he's the only one besides you I would trust with this."
"Ah. Well, it can't be helped, I suppose." Fuuma cradled the feather closer to his chest, breathing deeply as the magic seeped down into his body. "What world have we landed in now?"
Seishirou tried to smile, but all the practice in the multiverse couldn't force anything more than a small grin. "It's called Avantine. It's a very advanced world. It's like Piffle World, but more regal."
"Any magic to speak of?" Fuuma asked. Seishirou's faint smile widened a bit. His brother had always been interested in magic, always envied his own natural ability. Even now that all the magic in the world can't save you, you ask me this.
"No magic that I've come across. There's that feather, but that came from outside this country, as I'm sure you're aware."
"Yes. It seems like we're finding them everywhere. Here, Tokyo, Outo . . ."
Seishirou nodded. Fuuma hadn't been with him for that world, but he'd told him about it in the rare lucid moments he'd had since falling ill. "Yes. The Little Wolf's been looking for them for several months now, going to a bunch of different worlds. Kind of like we do, except with a more specific objective."
"Yuuko-san was always vague when it came to her prices. 'In exchange for the power to cross dimensions, you will do whatever I say.' Isn't that what she said?"
Seishirou nodded, noting the steady decline of Fuuma's coherence.
"The food's here," Syaoran called as someone knocked at the door.
"Tell the man to put it on our hotel bill, and bring it in."
"Okay." There was a shuffling of feet, the sound of a door sliding open.
Seishirou checked Fuuma's temperature, lacking much else to do. I'll have to wash his hair again soon, he thought, running his fingers through the cinnamon-colored hair. It's been almost four days, and he was lying in the dirt in a jungle for half a day.
"Seishirou?"
"Yes, Fuuma?"
"This disease . . . I don't see how there's any way for us to fight it. That world I landed in after Tokyo was advanced, too, and they couldn't do anything. They said I had waited too long, that my body had deteriorated past the point where they could treat it."
Syaoran stepped through the door, a tray of food in his hands. He set it on the bedside table and slipped out of the room, seeming to understand the sensitive nature of the conversation. Seishirou picked up the bowl of soup and moved it closer to his brother so he could feed him without spilling.
"I'm not really hungry," Fuuma said. With his gaunt face and sunken eyes, the lack of appetite seemed like an ill omen.
"You'll feel better once you eat."
"It's my body. It's not your place to tell me what I should and shouldn't do."
Seishirou frowned and moved the spoon closer to his brother's lips. "I'm older than you. You have to listen to me."
"We're not children anymore. Seniority doesn't apply here."
"I don't care."
The younger man looked at him, losing the trace of amusement he'd expressed since waking up. "I'm dying, Seishirou. Nothing you can do will change that, and I shouldn't have to do anything I don't want to."
"You're not going to die, so it's a moot point."
"You know my chances. You know, even if I let you do this, how unlikely it is I'll survive."
Seishirou sighed heavily, losing his patience. "You're going to eat this soup, or I'm going to dump it over your head, spoon and all."
His brother glared up at him for a moment longer, then gave in with a heavy sigh and opened his mouth. Seishirou poured the spoonful of soup between his brother's lips. "One day, dear Brother, you'll thank me for this."
"This is a stupid plan."
"I've already lived my life. Even if I lose it now, I'm going to make sure you have a chance to live yours."
Fuuma swallowed another mouthful of soup. "That's why you brought the boy, isn't it? Because he'd understand."
"He has a goal he absolutely has to pursue, and he'll do whatever it takes to meet that goal. But he also has honor. He understands enough to know he can still accomplish his goal while he helps us."
"You truly are a manipulative bastard."
Seishirou smiled, this time with genuine fondness. "Maybe. Now, finish your soup."