Chapter Nineteen

"I was wondering . . ."

Kurogane glanced up from his plate, swallowing a mouthful of pizza. Across the table, the boy studied his plate the same way he might study an antique. "What is it?" Kurogane asked.

Syaoran's voice was low, hesitant. "Why did you offer? I thought . . . I thought you would hate me for even thinking about something like that, so why give me the power to ask for it?"

"Because," he said flatly. Because you needed it, and I couldn't watch you suffer anymore. The line of his jaw hardened. Every reason, every justification his mind came up with, was nothing more than a barrier against the self-loathing he ought to have been feeling for taking advantage of the kid while he was so desperate.

Syaoran arched an eyebrow. "That's not a reason."

"No, it's not." His fingers curled into fists on the table. A low breath hissed through his teeth."You needed it, and you needed to stop feeling ashamed of it."

Syaoran looked down. Blood crept into his cheeks, staining them pink. "I . . . I'm in love with someone else."

Kurogane rolled his eyes. Like we can't tell. "The princess?"

The kid flinched. "I was selfish. I asked for too much. I shouldn't have—"

"Relax." He reached forward and rested his hand on top of the boy's hair. Surprise flashed across his face, the pink deepening to red.

"Kurogane-san . . ."

"Are you going to ask me to stay away?" he asked, hating himself for the sharp edge in his voice.

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"No. You aren't. If you want to call it off, just say so." Just say it, and we can put this away for good.

"But . . ." The boy stood, tense. "What if I ask you to do something you don't want to do? I don't want . . ." His blush deepened until his face was red enough to be compared to a strawberry.

"You don't want what?"

"I don't want you to feel obligated to do something for me that's going to make things . . . awkward between us."

If I didn't want to do something you asked for, all I'd have to do is look disapproving and you'd be backtracking. Kurogane sighed, expelling all his irritation in one breath. "I don't feel obligated to help you. I want to help you. And what I'm willing to do isn't going to be an issue, but I'll tell you if it becomes one." All of which was technically true, if from a skewed perspective.

The kid hesitated, then let out a breath. "Okay."

Kurogane unwound his fingers from the boy's hair and tucked his hand in his pocket. "You're a smart kid. You'll figure it out."

"I guess." The kid frowned, eyes flicking up to his face, then stepped back. "I'm going to go read."

"Okay."

Syaoran slipped out of the room, pausing at his door to glance back one last time. When he disappeared, Kurogane stood up and walked over to the bathroom, hoping to get enough hot water for a decent bath. Once the water was running, he checked to make sure he had something to wear after he dried off, then stripped off his dirty clothes, tossing them into the corner. He stepped into the bathtub, drawing the shower curtain closed.

The curtain acted as a sort of barrier against the rest of the world, allowing him to relax for the first time in far too long. For a while, he just breathed, clearing his mind. Years of meditation in Nihon made that relatively easy, though recent events had stirred up a lot of troublesome thoughts. Still, he was able to calm himself within seconds, letting all worldly matters drift away for a while so he could revisit them with a clear head later. After about ten minutes, he allowed himself to think again, allowed himself to worry about the ramifications of what had just happened.

There was no going back; he knew that. Even if the option had been available to him, he wouldn't have gone back—doing so would imply that he'd done something that needed correcting. Besides that, he didn't want to take the authenticity of it away from the kid. Syaoran was smart; he'd realize the impossibility of this kind of relationship on his own, and even if he didn't, he'd grow bored eventually. This development wasn't a mistake so much as a phase. If it got the kid back on his feet, all the better for everyone.

It wasn't a mistake, he told himself. It was impulsive, but it wasn't a mistake. The kid needs to stop being ashamed of what he feels. The best way to do that now is to let him do this.

He sank deeper into the water, letting his worries drift away like silt in a river.

Syaoran stood at the window for a long time, staring out at the ice-crusted streets. Cold air emanated from beyond the thin pane of glass, leaching heat from his skin as he stood there. When he sighed, his breath fogged against the window.

For the first time in weeks, he could breathe.

He hadn't been aware he'd been struggling to draw breath until the pressure of acting normal had lifted. It was like being reborn, taking that first agonizing, life-giving gasp of air. Or like he'd been locked in a closet and finally managed to break out, to taste fresh air.

For the first time in years, he felt free.

He still loved his Sakura, of course, and he had every intention of finding her. The kiss didn't change that. Rather, the kiss had changed his perspective. Just because he was in love with someone else didn't mean he had to devote every waking thought to her wellbeing. He could allow himself to feel joy without her. He could allow himself a few moments of weakness, a few moments to be selfish.

Syaoran exhaled softly and opened his window. Cold air rushed in, the wind carrying flecks of snow into his bedroom. The snowflakes caressed his face as they went by, biting at his skin. The cold pierced his lungs with every breath, but the taste of fresh air was so sweet, the pain seemed like a mere afterthought.

After a minute, he closed his window and sat down on his bed, swaddling himself in sheets and picking up one of the books he'd purchased from the bookstore a few weeks ago. He'd only read a few pages when he heard the front door open. He tensed, adrenaline shooting through his system and sending him into survival mode.

Fai's voice pierced the apartment, loud and unusually lighthearted. "We've got groceries!"

Syaoran forced himself to relax. Even now, free of Fei-Wang Reed's prison, a part of him remained on edge, ready to fight or flee at the slightest provocation. He suspected he'd always be jumpy, even after all of this was over.

"We've got cupcakes," Sakura said, strangely cheerful. Syaoran pressed an ear to the wall. Entering now would upset the fragile dynamic of happiness, but he wanted to share in it as much as he could while it lasted, so he listened.

"We had some money left over from our last match, so we decided to splurge."

If the group had bypassed Tokyo, Fai would've tried to shove one of the desserts in Kurogane's mouth and dodged the retaliatory punches. If they had bypassed Tokyo. If I'd never come, Syaoran thought.

A moment later, there was a knock on his door. Startled, he ripped his ear from the wall and jumped to his feet. For a moment, he just stood there, frozen. Then, he hurried to the door and unlocked it.

Kurogane stood on the other side, haloed in fluorescent light. Syaoran blinked rapidly. "What is it?"

"Come on out. We've got good food."

Syaoran glanced down and saw the line in the cement where his door usually rested. For some reason, that barrier—that inch or so of space between his room and the living room—felt like a vast chasm. He's asking me to come out? Why? Is this how he wants me to reciprocate for the kiss? He took a shaky breath. I can't disappoint him. Not now.

"It's up to you," Kurogane said, shrugging. But there was something in his eyes, something like a challenge. "If you don't want to come out, you don't have to, but you'd be better off for it."

Syaoran took a deep breath. I can't disappoint him. I have to try to make the others like me, even if they never will.

He stepped over the threshold and into the living room.