Chapter One-Hundred-One
Kurogane scrubbed the demon blood off his armor, surveying the metal signs of erosion.
It had taken the better part of the evening to eradicate all the existing demons, but no humans had been killed. If anything, the kid's wound had been the most severe casualty, and he was recovering rapidly. The wards were back up, too. Apparently, the gap had appeared because one of the mikos guarding the edge of the territory had been struck ill.
Kurogane could understand that.
Once his armor had been cared for, he removed Souhi from its sheath and polished the blade. To his surprise, the steel wasn't damaged at all, not even the accents in the hilt. Maybe because it's not real steel, he thought. Though Souhi had the qualities of most swords, it had been forged from data, not metal. The demon blood had no apparent effect on it.
He cleaned and polished the blade. The weapon reflected torchlight by the time he was done with it.
From a loop on his belt, he pulled the blade with the black handle. The maker never mentioned the sword's name, he thought, examining the keen edge of the blade. It had been forged by the same man who'd forged Ginryuu for his father, so many years ago. I've come full circle, he thought, wiping a smudge of black blood off the hilt. He hadn't used this one in the fight. When it was time to bloody the blade, Syaoran would be the one to do it.
I should take this to him.
Kurogane sat there a moment, sliding the blade back into his sheath. As he was about to leave, there was a knock on his door.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"Tomoyo-hime wishes to see you," said one of the servants.
More demons? he wondered, hanging both swords at his hip. Since coming to the palace, he'd seldom been ordered to slay demons more than once or twice a week.
He hurried to the meeting room Tomoyo often used, peering inside to make sure she was there before he entered. Except for a small collection of guards, she was alone.
"Come in, Kurogane."
Not a formal visit, then, he thought, noting the casual use of his name. Tomoyo was the only person in the world who could call him solely by name without irritating him.
Despite the informal greeting, he bowed deeply when he entered and waited for her to speak. After a moment, she dismissed her guards and beckoned him. "Sit," she said, gesturing to the straw mat in front of her. He obeyed.
They sat there a moment in silence. Tomoyo poured him a cup of tea, smiling softly. "It's good to have you back at the castle. I trust your mission went well?"
He nodded. "The wards are back up, and the demons have been exterminated." But that's not why you called me here, is it?
"Wonderful." She sipped her tea. When she lifted her head again, her expression was gentle. Almost like the face of the child who had pulled him from his trauma-induced path of destruction. But there was a subtle joy in her features now, in place of the grave look she'd worn then. "You have been through much since I sent you on your journey. Have you learned the meaning of true strength?"
He took a sip of tea to cover his hesitation. Truthfully, he hadn't thought much of her request since he'd started this journey. At first, his primary focus had been returning to Nihon. Then, it had been keeping both those kids alive. And after that, it had been trying to piece together the shards of their broken friendships.
He spoke slowly, weighing each word. "I've learned that there are a lot of different kinds of strength, and that no one can possibly possess strength in every area. And also, I've learned that strength can lead to disaster." For the first time since he'd started, he allowed his eyes to drift up to hers.
Tomoyo's eyes were shiny with tears. Kurogane blinked, astonished.
He was about to ask if his answer had upset her when her tinkling laugh rose from her lips. "You truly surprise me, Kurogane."
"What's so surprising about what I said?" he demanded.
Her laugh grew louder. "It's just . . . I didn't expect you to change your mind so easily. You were always so stubborn."
"Yeah, well . . ." Maybe that's changed, too. "In any case, there's something I have to finish."
"Oh?" Tomoyo's eyes twinkled with unspoken knowledge, but she asked the question anyway. "And what might that be?"
"The people I've been traveling with . . . I'm not so sure they'll be able to finish what they set out to do if I'm not there. And I have a personal goal to accomplish that requires me to continue traveling." So I can slay a certain sword-wielding sorcerer.
"You're leaving again," Tomoyo summarized. She didn't sound disappointed, exactly. More like rueful. "It may be a long time before we meet again."
"I know," he said. "And that's why I want to renew my oaths to you, before I go. So I have a reason to come back."
"You'll come back. I've seen it."
"Even so—"
"Circumstances dictate that you will not remember this conversation in the future. I will not hold you to a vow you don't remember."
"Tomoyo . . ." He trailed off, unsure what to say. I won't remember this? Am I going to give my memories to that witch? "Did you have a dream? Is that how you know?"
She nodded. "When we next see each other, you will be in a much more dire situation. So do not make another oath to me until we meet again, when you can be sure of the promise you make."
He stared at her for a long moment, then bowed his head. If there was one person, on any world, that he trusted absolutely, it was Tomoyo. "I understand."
She nodded in approval. "When the time comes, you will, in part, be responsible for a choice that is made. I do not know which choice is correct. However—" Her expression darkened. "I know the price for both will be dire. I cannot foresee the precise results of that choice. That is why you must remain with them, until that moment comes. I know you will do the honorable thing."
The words, shapeless and vague, sent a quiver of unease down his spine. But he nodded.
Tomoyo dismissed him then. He bowed formally as her guard reassembled around her, then left the meeting room.
A choice, huh? What did she mean by that? He turned the corner and headed to the healer's room, where they were keeping the boy. As soon as he stepped inside, the boy glanced up and bowed his head.
"Good evening, Kurogane-san." He made a move to stand, then winced and sunk back into the blankets. His torso was bare except for the carpet of bandages crossing over his wound.
Kurogane took a seat beside the boy. For a moment, he was silent, trying to think of something to say. To his surprise, the kid spoke first.
"I buried the cloak."
He glanced up. The boy's face was serene, if understandably grim.
There wasn't much he could say after that, so he changed the subject. "I got you something."
Syaoran blinked.
Kurogane slid the black-hilted sword from his belt, taking it in both hands and holding it up to the boy. "It doesn't have a name, and the sheath isn't finished yet, but this is yours."
Shock crossed the boy's face. His hands shook as he picked up the weapon. "This is . . ."
"It's the best steel they have in Nihon, and made by the best craftsman I know. And it's yours."
The boy stared at him for a long moment. Kurogane half-expected him to try to give it back, claiming he didn't deserve something like this. I won't take it back, he thought, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
The kid looked down at the sword for a long moment. In the dim light, Kurogane could see the distinctive shine over his apprentice's eyes. Oh, he's not really going to cry over this, is he?
But the boy didn't cry. He lifted his head, his expression that of a starving man who had just been given bread. "Thank you," he whispered.
Kurogane lifted a hand to tousle the boy's hair. "But you're still my apprentice, got it? You've got a lot to learn before you're ready to fight anyone."
He blinked again, as if the words had confused him somehow. "Apprentice . . ."
"Yeah. I told you that already."
"So . . . Does that mean you're not staying in this world, after all?"
His shoulders slumped. "My duty now is to teach you and the princess how to fight. That supersedes my duty here at the castle."
The boy stared at him for a long moment, combating the hope trying to spring to his face. "You're . . . You're coming with us?"
Has he been worried about that this whole time? Kurogane wondered, trying to fathom the sheer look of relief on the boy's face. Did he honestly think I would abandon him now that we finally got him back? "Of course," he said, irritated. How much is it going to take for this kid to understand how important he is to us? "Besides," he went on, eyebrows slanting down. "We still have an enemy to face."