Chapter Twenty

The next five days were oddly . . . normal.

Kurogane had made it clear, through brief, subtle exchanges, that Syaoran was to at least attempt to make contact with the others, and while every second ached like pressure on a bruise, a fear of disappointing his closest ally pulled Syaoran to the dinner table almost as often as the others gathered there.

"This asparagus is very tender, Fai-san," he said on the third day, keeping his eyes on his plate.

He could feel the weight of that single eye on his face, cool and ever so slightly hostile. But Fai merely murmured a quiet "Thank you," and that was the end of the exchange. After dinner, Syaoran saw Kurogane nod at him from across the room. He'd been surprised at how good it had felt to have the ninja's approval, even if it was over something inconsequential.

The tension had eased considerably since the day Fai and Sakura had returned with cupcakes, but Syaoran doubted the sugary treats were the reason for it. Ever since Kurogane's subtle insistence that he try to act normal, he'd made a point of joining the others for meals, and Fai, at least, was softening because of it.

On the fifth day, something else changed. Rather than initiating the conversation, as Syaoran had previously forced himself to do, Fai addressed him after dinner. "Syaoran-kun, I need you to climb on top of the refrigerator and clear everything out of the cupboards up there."

In his surprise, Syaoran actually dropped the plate he'd been washing, barely catching it before it hit the edge of the sink. "O-Of course," he stammered, setting aside the soapy dishes and wiping the bubbles off his hands.

"I want to reorganize the cupboards so everything is in easy reach for Sakura-chan," Fai explained, standing on his tiptoes and peering over the top of the refrigerator.

Syaoran nodded; when Sakura left her room for any reason besides the necessities, it was usually because she'd had an urge to cook. Judging from the overall improvement in meal quality, Syaoran had to assume Fai's cooking lessons were paying off as much as his daily walk with Sakura. "You just want me to climb up on the counter and hand stuff to you?"

Fai nodded. "I'd do it myself, but I think I'd hit my head. You're the perfect size for this."

Syaoran glanced at the vampire, startled. Except for fights, he'd assumed he was a rather superfluous addition to their group, at least in this world. Kurogane and Fai could care for Sakura in his absence, and except for some knowledge on foreign languages and cultures, neither of which was relevant here, there was little they needed him for. To hear he was useful, even for such a menial task, soothed the ache in his heart.

He climbed onto the counter, being careful not to knock over the spice rack Fai had purchased five days ago, and opened the tiny cupboards. They contained several bags of chips, as well as a few cans of ingredients they seldom used for cooking.

Syaoran wondered, briefly, why they didn't let Mokona store the canned food. Was there some real estate limit in whatever pocket dimension that existed inside Mokona's stomach? Were the others worried that they'd eventually have to pay some price for all the storage space? Maybe it's so that if something happens to Mokona, we won't die of starvation between chess matches.

He frowned, handing a can of tomato paste to Fai. For a while, the only sounds in the kitchen were the clink of cans colliding with each other and the crinkling of chip bags. "Okay," Syaoran said, hopping off the counter and landing lightly on the linoleum. "Cupboards are empty."

Fai set down the last of the cans and turned to him. Syaoran's eyebrows shot into his hairline as he saw the smile on Fai's face. "Thanks, Syaoran-kun. I've been meaning to clean those cupboards for the longest time."

There was something in that smile, something that cut him deeper than any blade. Syaoran wasn't sure if sorrow was the appropriate adjective—smiles and sorrow seldom showed at the same time. But there was something, and it triggered a flood of guilt in him. "You're welcome," he murmured, edging toward the front door. "I'm going out for a while."

Syaoran donned his coat and stuffed his feet into his shoes. Within seconds, he was out the door.

He passed right through the lobby, pushing through the front doors. Icy wind whipped by his face, slicing through his jeans as if they were made of sheer fabric. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed to the corner, waiting for the blue image of a person to appear on the other side before crossing. They'd had similar street lights in some of the countries Fujitaka had explored with his clone, as well as in the Hanshin Republic. Not in Piffle, though. After all, what use were streets when people just flew around in safer, slower versions of the dragonfly racers?

He kept walking until he came to the park where he and Kurogane had sparred five days ago. Rather than summoning his sword, he kept walking until he reached the pebbled playground in the center of the park. It should've been empty, given the time of year and the late hour, but Syaoran saw several teenagers crowding around a man in a grey sweatshirt. They spoke in low voices, heads down. When one of the older teens glanced his way, his face twisted in a glare.

Syaoran dropped his gaze and moved to the other side of the playground. It's not my business, he told himself, wincing as every step stirred a landslide of pebbles around his feet. There was no way to be quiet on a playground like this.

Then again, perhaps it was good no one could sneak up on him here while he was so preoccupied. He wasn't sure why Fai's smile had made him feel so horribly guilty, but he couldn't help but think he deserved to feel that way. He'd been the one to twist back time. It was his fault he had a sociopath for a clone wandering around. He had done what he could to disrupt Fei-Wang's plans, but it hadn't been enough.

With a sigh, Syaoran sat down on one of three playground swings. The chains wore a coat of rust and were locked into place by ice. The plastic seat looked like a dog had spent the day gnawing on the edges. It didn't matter to him; he was barely aware of the faults as his head dropped into his hands. "What's the matter with me?" he whispered to himself. "Why isn't anything I do good enough?"

Wind howled through the playground. The swings beside him swayed in the bitter wind, creaking and shedding flecks of snow.

Time passed. The teenagers on the other side of the park left, chatting amongst themselves. Syaoran watched them go, noting the now-cheerful sound of their banter and wondering what could've changed their moods so drastically.

Syaoran pulled his hands from his pockets, and wrapped his fingers around the frozen chains holding the swing up. The metal felt like fire against his skin, though in truth, they were frigid. He bit his lip, a shaky breath whistling down his throat. The cold air felt prickled in his lungs. Sometimes, when he opened his window for a bit of fresh air, the cold cleared his mind. Now, it numbed it the same way the cold chains were numbing his fingers. He didn't want to be here anymore, but he didn't think he could go back.

I'm being irrational, he told himself. I have to go back eventually, and I'm only going to get colder by sitting out here.

Before he could think further than that, a voice cut through the playground. "Hey."

Syaoran's head snapped up, his whole body tensing as he took in the towering figure standing a few feet away from him. Apparently, it was possible for someone to sneak up on him in this playground, if that person happened to be a ninja. "Kurogane-san? You followed me here?"

The man shrugged. "You followed me when I stormed off."

Syaoran winced. "I didn't storm off . . ."

Kurogane made a dismissive gesture. "I know. Figured you needed someone to talk to."

Syaoran stirred the pebbles around his feet with his shoe and shrugged.

Fog rose from the ninja's lips as he exhaled. "Talk anyway. It'll help you sort things out."

He bit his lip, trying to think of something unimportant. "Fai-san smiled at me." His eyes flickered up to the ninja's face as he tried to determine whether that was a noteworthy accomplishment. Kurogane nodded, encouraging him to go on. "I thought that I'd be relieved when it happened. That I'd feel better, or less guilty. But it felt . . . wrong. That Fai is smiling at me now, instead of . . . the Other. And Fai-san used to be happy all the time—it seems wrong that I should be surprised at his smile when my clone would've been surprised at a frown."

Kurogane sighed. "That idiot was never happy. He pretended to be, for the other kid's sake, and the princess's. If he's smiling now, at least it's probably a real smile."

Syaoran blinked rapidly. Fai's smiles had never looked false to him until recently. Had that been because the Other had interpreted the smiles as genuine, or had he grown so used to seeing those old smiles that the new, rare smiles seemed fake to him?

But Kurogane believed what he was saying, and Syaoran had little cause to believe Kurogane had missed something. The ninja understood people the way Syaoran understood books. "Then . . . Then I guess I'm glad."

Kurogane shrugged. "You looked through the other kid's eyes for years—it makes sense for you to mourn over the things that have changed. But don't mistake that for something being wrong. You're different, and the situation is different, so everyone's reactions to you will be different."

Syaoran thought about that for a moment, then rose from the swing. His joints were stiff with cold. "You treat me differently than you treated the Other. It's not as obvious, but you do."

"Tch. I treat you like an adult, because you are one. Technically."

Syaoran thought about the kiss, thought about Kurogane's certainty that he wouldn't abuse the ninja's offer. He would've never offered the same to the Other, Syaoran realized, eyes widening. My clone would've never needed something like that from him. But me . . . His heart sped, and he struggled to keep his breathing from doing the same. He bowed his head. "I'm grateful for it."

Kurogane tousled his hair. "Good. Now let's head back."

Syaoran nodded. "Right."