Chapter Twenty-One

The front door clicked shut as Fai and Sakura left.

Syaoran exhaled, shoulders relaxing for the first time since breakfast this morning. He'd made an appearance at nearly every meal for the past week, and his stress had mounted with every minute spent with the others.

It wasn't that he hated them. He didn't. But putting on a show to prove he could communicate with them was more taxing than avoiding them altogether. It's supposed to get better, he thought, wiping spaghetti sauce off the counter. So why does it feel like it's only getting worse?

Counters cleaned, Syaoran hung the washrag from the faucet and turned toward his room, only to catch sight of Kurogane heading toward the kitchen.

There was a part of him that felt guilty every time he saw one of his traveling companions. Part of that was because he'd arrived in Tokyo too late to do anything useful. But it went deeper than that. If he hadn't made his wish to turn back time, if he hadn't hesitated when reaching for his Sakura's hand that day in Clow, Fei Wang Reed would never have been able to set his plans in motion. Fai wouldn't have lost his eye. His Sakura wouldn't have been cloned, and the Sakura traveling with him wouldn't have had her memories scattered. Kurogane's mother would never have been killed, and his home would still be intact.

Everything that's happened is my fault, he thought, eyes flickering to the ninja as he passed. How can I ask for his affection when it was my wish that caused the disaster in Suwa? How can I ask anything of him, knowing that?

"Hey, kid."

Syaoran froze, heart quickening. Then, slowly, he turned to face the ninja. "Yes?"

"It's pretty dull around here. You want to spar or something?"

Syaoran blinked, mind flashing back to the last time they'd sparred. Kurogane had said something then, something he hadn't even considered: "You're afraid of me."

Was I? he wondered. Was I afraid of him, or was I afraid he'd find out the truth and hate me for it? "Sure," he said, voice cracking as he grabbed his coat from the hook. He could feel Kurogane's gaze on his back, but he made a pointed effort not to look up. He wasn't sure what to say, now that they were alone together. Unless heading out to spar was Kurogane's way of blocking an unwanted advance.

He hated it, Syaoran thought wretchedly. He must have. He only kissed me because I asked. I was stupid and selfish, and he hated it. His eyes burned, and he blinked rapidly so clear them. Kurogane would not approve of tears.

"Kid? You okay?"

"I . . . No, not exactly." He turned, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Say something, he told himself. Say something before this goes any farther. "There's something I need to ask you."

Kurogane arched an eyebrow, setting Souhi aside, as if expecting a long conversation. "What is it?"

"When we . . . When I asked you to kiss me . . . Did you hate it?" That, at least, was easier to face than a conversation about how much trauma he'd inadvertently caused the ninja.

Kurogane's eyes widened. Syaoran pressed on.

"If you did . . . I won't be upset. I just want to know if you hated it." He dared to lift his eyes again, then repressed the urge to wince.

Without saying a word, Kurogane stalked over to him and grabbed his upper arm. Syaoran had only a second of warning before the ninja's lips crashed against his, smothering him. Kurogane's free hand snaked around the back of his neck, fingernails trailing down the ridge of his spine. Syaoran gasped as his back hit the wall. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

It was like his nervous system was connected to a power line and there had been a power surge. I don't understand, he thought, warmth spreading from the crown of his head to his toes even as he denied himself the right to feel pleasure. Kurogane's fingers coiled in his hair, yanking his head back until their lips separated. The air between them crackled with barely leashed violence. "W-what—"

"Don't talk."

He closed his mouth. Kurogane kept his hold on his arm, pulling him toward the couch. When they reached the sofa, Syaoran hesitated, uncertain. Kurogane pushed him back, forcing him to sit. "Listen," Kurogane said, his voice clipped. "I said I'd tell you if our arrangement became a problem. It hasn't. Stop worrying about it."

"I wasn't asking if the arrangement was a problem."

There was a pause. Kurogane drew back, watching him with the oddest expression. Belatedly, Syaoran realized just how sharp he'd sounded.

Some part of him knew he ought to feel guilty for his tone. The rest of him was too frustrated, too hurt and angry, to yield to the guilt again. He stood, breathing hard, fists pressed against his thighs. Control. He had to regain control of himself. He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at the ninja's face again. The height difference was disconcerting—if they had ever been close to the same level in anything, it wasn't this. "I wasn't asking about our arrangement," Syaoran said, keeping his voice level. It still sounded cold. "I wanted to know if you resented me for asking."

Silence resonated between them, as tense as a piano wire. Syaoran waited, blood beating in his ears.

Finally, Kurogane spoke. "No. I don't."

Syaoran bowed his head, his anger draining away as quickly as it had come. He should've been elated, or at least relieved. Instead, he felt hollow.

It doesn't matter. Whatever he gives me, it won't mean anything if it stems from a deal. It won't mean anything if it's done out of obligation.

"I release you from every promise you've made to me," Syaoran said. The hollow feeling spread, burying its teeth into his heart. "I release you from any obligation to take care of me, as well as any of our arrangements." His lips twisted around the last word. It was so businesslike, so empty. It hurt. He took a rapid breath to steady himself. In an odd way, this was more like a breakup than anything he'd ever experienced. The only difference was that this wasn't about ending a broken relationship, it was about keeping an existing friendship from shattering even further.

My actions have already shattered everybody, Syaoran thought, turning away and heading for his bedroom. But all I'm doing is stomping on the broken pieces. This has to stop before things get any worse.

"Hey!" Kurogane snapped behind him. Syaoran winced, but kept silent. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

He bit his lip, hard, as his hand came down on the door handle.

"Boy!" The word was laced with frustration.

Syaoran stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. His hand went to the lock, but his fingers were trembling so much, he almost couldn't turn the deadbolt.

But he did, and as soon as the door was locked, he collapsed to his knees in front of it and let the pain take him.