Chapter Ninety-Three
The clash of wooden swords scared off every bird in the vicinity.
Syaoran approached, pausing at the corner of Shirasagi castle to make sure it was Kurogane-san and not another ninja. An elaborate garden stretched out before him. Ivy clung to stone walls, fingerlike projections spreading out as if to hold the round rocks together. Shrubs lined the outer perimeter, some shaped into spheres, some into other forms. Rings of colorful flowers marked different sections of the garden. In the far corner, a sakura tree stood in full bloom, larger and healthier than any he'd ever seen.
At the center of it all stood Kurogane-san and the princess. As Syaoran stood there, she lashed out with a wooden sword. Kurogane-san moved to block the attack, not even shifting his stance as he fended her off. A moment later, Sakura tried again, coming at the ninja from the side. Syaoran watched her stance change and noted how good her form was, despite the slight favoring of her crippled leg.
The metal bolt in his pocket suddenly felt heavy.
I should wait, he thought, retreating behind the corner. A cloud passed in front of the sun, casting a shadow over the tranquil garden. Syaoran looked up, and noticed the sickly gray wall of stratus clouds creeping over the castle. There's going to be a storm, he thought.
The sound of crashing swords continued, and Syaoran refocused his attention on the pair in the clearing. The movements were familiar to him; the Other had gone through the same drills a hundred times since receiving Hien. Syaoran had practiced those drills in the time he'd traveled with Seishirou, trying to acquire the muscle memory to use his sword effectively.
He sighed softly, wondering if those drills were going to be all he had left of his teacher after he moved on to the next world.
The dance continued for almost an hour. Syaoran was content to watch. Surely, Kurogane-san wouldn't trust him to do more than watch after everything. He barely trusted me with drills in Infinity, Syaoran thought, noting a flaw in Sakura's stance as he watched. He heard Kurogane correct her, watched her move to the correct position.
In Clow, Sakura had been somewhat uncoordinated. Part of it had been the growth spurts of adolescence, but much of her clumsiness had come from a lack of physical activity. Since she was the princess, she didn't have to do anything strenuous to support her family or herself. But Syaoran could see a distinct grace in her movements as she sparred with Kurogane. Her coordination had improved dramatically since she'd started training.
More than that, he thought. She doesn't hesitate. She's learning how to defend herself.
Minutes passed, and Syaoran felt a drop of rain on his shoulder. He looked up to see the stratus clouds stretching over most of the sky. Another raindrop hit him in the eye.
In the garden, the sparring match subsided. Kurogane muttered something about the weather and ordered Sakura to go inside. By the time Syaoran heard her footsteps on the porch, the stray drops of rain had transformed into a light drizzle.
I should go back inside, he thought, but his body stayed where it sat. In the distance, he heard a rumble of thunder. Rivulets of rain ran down his face, soaking his hair. I guess I can skip the bath for today, he thought, closing his eyes and running his hand through his too-long hair.
Another rumble, still far away.
Something tapped his elbow. His head jerked up to see Kurogane towering over him. "You should go inside," the ninja said.
Syaoran braced one hand on the ground to help him stand, then frowned as the palm of his hand came away slick with mud. He held it out for the rain to wash away.
"There any particular reason you're skulking around like this?"
He considered lying, saying he'd just been getting some fresh air. But all his lies had done so far was mess things up. "I wanted to talk to you. But it doesn't matter now." He half-turned, ashamed he'd even considered asking the ninja to leave this place now that he'd finally found it.
A hand came down on his shoulder, stopping him. "What did you want to say?"
Syaoran shook his head. "It really doesn't matter."
Kurogane sighed, not removing his hand from Syaoran's shoulder. After several seconds, the ninja spoke again. "Okay, let's make a deal. We're going to spar. Every time you score a hit, you get to ask me a question. Every time I score a hit, I ask you a question. No lies, no evasions, just honest answers. Got it?"
Syaoran looked up uncertainly, water rushing down from his hair. His teacher handed him one of the practice swords and led him toward the middle of the garden, where he'd been sparring with Sakura only a few moments ago.
"Ready?" Kurogane asked, when they reached the clearing. Syaoran bowed deeply, then lifted the wooden sword to defend himself.
"Ready."
Kurogane moved first, his sword coming around almost leisurely. Syaoran lifted his own weapon to block, knowing the effortless act was just a façade. That was the mark of an expert—making something difficult look as easy as breathing.
The blow was still harder than Syaoran had expected, knocking his sword aside easily despite the coils of resistance in his arms. A fraction of a second later, Kurogane shifted, switching his angle of attack. The "blade" slammed into Syaoran's wrist hard enough to make his hand go numb.
"Okay, first question," Kurogane said. "What are your nightmares about?"
Syaoran blinked, massaging his wrist. He hadn't been sure what kinds of questions the ninja would ask, but this was one of the last he would've expected. "My nightmares?"
"You toss in your sleep. You never used to do that."
Syaoran looked down, steeling himself to tell the truth. "Mostly, I dream of the Other. I watch him as he moves between dimensions, searching for feathers. I don't know why I see him in my dreams, but . . ." He shrugged. "I haven't dreamed of him since I started taking the medicine Seishirou gave me."
"Medicine?"
Syaoran nodded, keeping his voice carefully neutral. "Medicine to suppress the dreams. Seishirou was holding onto it in the last world, so I don't have it anymore." He looked up, to see if his answers had satisfied the ninja.
Kurogane nodded once, then took a fighting stance.
They sparred a bit longer this time. With his vampire speed, Syaoran was able to deflect his teacher's attacks for almost a minute before the tip of the wooden sword jabbed his shoulder. He lowered his sword and waited for the next question.
"You had bruises on your neck when we saw you in Sapphirine. What were they from?"
His fingers automatically rose to the vulnerable flesh of his throat. "Seishirou tried to strangle me, right before we reached the bottom of the canyon."
A look of cold fury swept across the ninja's face. Syaoran retreated half a step, struggling to justify the bruises. "He was trying to provoke me into killing him. That would've fulfilled the requirements of his wish. He wasn't actually trying to kill me."
Kurogane's features shifted to skepticism, but he said nothing, merely raising his sword. Their dance began again, picking up the pace as Syaoran struggled to block every attack. The sound of the wooden blades smashing into each other exploded above the hiss of rain. With every step, the ninja drove him back, his years of skill more than a match for Syaoran's supernatural strength and speed. The moment he realized he was retreating, he lunged forward, thrusting the tip of his sword toward the ninja's ribs. He struck a glancing blow before his feet slid across the mud and brought him crashing down on his tailbone.
A hand extended out to him in a silent offer. Syaoran took it, hoping the rain would wash the mud off his clothes. It took him a moment to remember it was his turn to ask a question. I should ask him if he plans to stay here in Nihon, he thought, remembering his reason for coming here in the first place.
The words stuck in his throat; he looked down. What if he is? How am I supposed to respond to that?
"Kid? You okay?"
"My question . . ." He hesitated, eyebrows coming together. And here I thought answering would be the hard part. "Why did you come back for me at the canyon? Why not just let me die?"
"I'm not a monster," the ninja snapped. "I wasn't going to leave you behind to get eaten."
"It wasn't just because you had to get the feather?"
Irritation flashed across the ninja's face. "No. Look, if that was all we'd wanted, we would have left you down there. But it wasn't. We didn't want you to die."
A stinging sensation wrapped around the inside of his throat. Syaoran swallowed. "Okay."
Kurogane sighed and moved back into a fighting stance. Their swords met only twice before the ninja's weapon connected with Syaoran's ribs. "In Cirrus, you shot a bolt of lightning into the middle of the fight. Did you intend for that to hit one of us, or were you just trying to scatter us?"
Syaoran exhaled. That, at least, was an easy question. "I wanted to keep Sakura away from your fight so she wouldn't get hurt trying to stop you. So I split the battlefield with a bolt of lightning to keep her away."
Kurogane nodded.
Syaoran managed to block three attacks before he felt his teacher's practice sword tap his throat. Syaoran lowered his blade, resigned to another answer.
"How long were you in contact with Seishirou before you left?"
He had to think about that for a minute. "The first time I saw him in Infinity was the day I came back after you blindfolded me," he said, drawing the sentence out as he considered his next words. "But I didn't start making deals with him until after the fire."
"That long?"
Syaoran looked up, heart squeezing painfully at the accusation in Kurogane's voice. "I—I was . . . All I wanted was for him to leave the rest of you alone. He was dangerous. I knew that. But then he told me about Fuuma, and I started feeling guilty for not helping him, and . . ." The words caught at the back of his throat. His breathing hitched like he was about to sob, and he turned his face away, humiliated. "I knew it was stupid, that I was risking everything, but Seishirou had never let me down. Never." His mind flashed back to the canyon, to the feeling of hands wrapping around his throat, to images of the blood running down Seishirou's lips as he took his dying breaths. Until then, Seishirou had never failed him. Until that final, brutal betrayal, he'd allowed himself to trust the man.
"And I did," Kurogane said softly. It took Syaoran a moment to realize he was responding to the last part of his answer.
"No," he said, shaking his head. Droplets of water flew from his hair, like water off a dog. "No, that's not it—"
Kurogane raised a hand and moved it to the top of Syaoran's head, tousling his soaked hair. "It's okay."
Okay? Syaoran thought, gasping in another breath. Tears leaked out the corners of his eyes, much warmer than the chilling rain. His hands rose up to cover his face as he began to cry in earnest.
"Don't. It's okay," Kurogane said, seeming at a loss. Syaoran clamped his hand tighter across his lips to stifle the sobs. He wasn't sure which of them was more embarrassed—him, for crying, or his teacher, for having to watch.
Syaoran forced the sobs to subside, then lifted his practice sword. His legs trembled under him as he assumed a fighting stance. "I'm not done asking questions."
"That's enough for tonight," Kurogane said.
His voice quavered. "No. I'm not done."
The ninja stepped forward and pulled the wooden sword out of his hands. He tossed their weapons into the mud and rested a hand on each of Syaoran's shoulders. He slumped under the pressure. "You don't have to fight anymore," Kurogane said. "Just ask whatever you want to ask."
Syaoran lifted his face to the rain, vision blurring. Quietly, he asked, "Do you hate me?"
Thunder roared in the sky, much closer than it had been a few minutes ago. Kurogane pulled him into an awkward, one-armed embrace. He said only one word. "No."