Chapter Thirty-Nine

Kurogane sat at the edge of the bed, already dressed, waiting for the kid to say something else. The boy had pulled the sheets over himself, shielding his body from the chill in the air, and his eyes drooped, close to sleep. Yet Kurogane could detect the quickened cadence of his breath, the tightness to his features. Still in pain.

With a sigh, Kurogane brushed his knuckles along the boy's neck. As he turned his head, a pair of dull brown eyes met his gaze, and he had to repress a wince at the glazed look he saw there. It was as if tonight's encounter had drained all the life out of the boy, as if it had had the opposite effect it should have. As if he had never wanted it in the first place.

"This was never about sex, was it?" The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

There was no shock in the kid's eyes, no denial. The boy looked away, taking a deep breath. "You offered."

"But this wasn't what you needed."

The boy hesitated, then shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Is that why you wanted to know why I called you by name?" Because you wanted me to love you? Because you needed that confirmation?

Syaoran shrugged under the blankets, his face unchanging. "Does it really matter?"

"Did you ask because you were hoping I'd changed my mind? Were you hoping I'd say that I loved you?" The words felt awkward on his tongue and sounded bitter coming out of his mouth.

"No." Syaoran looked away, took a breath, and spoke with more confidence. "No. I knew nothing had changed. And things are fine the way they are."

"Are they?"

Syaoran lifted his head, hearing the challenge in his words. Kurogane waited, wondering what he'd do, what he'd say. Instead, a silence fell between them, and the kid rolled onto his side, away from him.

So there's something wrong, but he's not willing to say it. He sighed, then started heading to the door. "When you're ready to say something, I'm ready to listen. But you'd better speak up soon."

He walked into the living room, closing the door behind him. After a moment, he went to the kitchen and pulled one of the liquor bottles from the shelf. Damn it, he thought, nearly shattering the bottle as he slammed it onto the coffee table. Damn it all.

They'd cut it close. Three shots after he sat down, Fai and Sakura returned from their walk, shattering any chance that the boy would come out of his room to chat. Kurogane sighed and set his glass aside. "Welcome back," he grumbled, more because the greeting was expected than the fact that he was actually happy to see them. A brittle smile curved up the princess's lips, and the vampire gave him his usual ghost of a grin.

"Are we drinking tonight, Kurogane?" Fai asked, eyeing the liquor bottle on the table.

"Have some if you want it." He sat back, pouring himself another shot. "I don't care."

Fai took a seat beside him, shot glass in hand. "Ah, you brought out the good stuff."

He shrugged; he hadn't really looked at the bottle when he'd picked it off the shelf. While Infinity's written language was similar to his own, the curly script on the label was completely unreadable. Besides, it didn't matter what he drank: alcohol was alcohol.

"Mokona will have some, too," the white creature announced, hopping onto his lap. He threw the pork bun a withering look, but said nothing, only tilting his head back to drink.

The mage was unusually quiet, even more so after Sakura retreated into her room. Kurogane sighed and picked up Souhi. "You haven't had anything to drink for a few days," he said, knowing the wizard would understand the implications of his words.

Fai looked up, and Kurogane caught the frown on his face. When the vampire looked at him, it shifted into a smile that emanated falseness the same way his shot glass emanated the scent of alcohol. "I suppose I've had a lot on my mind." He turned to the meat bun. "Mokona, why don't you go check on Sakura-chan?"

Mokona hopped off the couch and headed toward Sakura's room, playing with the doorknob until the princess opened it from the other side.

"Lot on your mind, huh? That's a change," Kurogane muttered, running Souhi's blade over his skin, then holding it under the vampire's nose. Fai's smile faltered. "Drink."

"I suppose next you're going to say that it's going to bleed whether I drink or not, huh?"

"I'll only say it if you keep evading me like this."

Any trace of the false smile vanished while he spoke. Fai's long fingers wrapped around his arm, claws extending in an instinctive reaction to the scent of blood. "You truly are cruel, sometimes."

Fai lowered his lips to the cut, but Kurogane could barely think of the discomfort as the blond man's words echoed in his mind. For the first time in weeks, the deceitful edge had been absent from Fai's voice. And considering his words, Kurogane almost wished he was lying again.

Cruel. That was what it always came down to. Princess Tomoyo had sent him away for being merciless, and now the kid was pushing him away, too. Yet, he'd never been deliberately cruel. Ruthless, yes. But not cruel.

Maybe I've been going about everything the wrong way, he thought. Maybe there was some other way to work this.

Fai pulled away. Kurogane blinked, startled by the sudden coldness on his arm. As always, the vampire had licked away all the excess blood, leaving the skin around the cut eerily pale. It would heal much faster than a normal cut, though whether that was magic or some aspect of vampire physiology meant to preserve their prey, he wasn't sure. He pulled away and wiped the little dab of blood off his sword before sliding it back into its sheath. He'd expected Fai to leave, as he usually did right after a meal, but the blond stayed at his side, staring at the table as if contemplating something.

"What is it?" Kurogane finally asked, hoping to jar the magician out of his silence.

Fai glanced toward Syaoran's door, still not smiling. "I was just thinking . . . Syaoran-kun seems quite withdrawn lately."

He arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" At least he's coming to dinner now, instead of starving himself in his room all day.

"He doesn't seem to engage with the rest of us. It's like he's afraid to speak to us, or he doesn't know what to say. I think . . . perhaps I've been too distant, and that's why he won't talk to me. But I can't help but be worried."

Kurogane nodded. Making connections with the rest of the group would be healthy for the boy, and perhaps he'd find that he didn't need an emotional crutch anymore. Wouldn't need him anymore. "If you're worried about being too distant, then talk to him."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do," he growled. I might as well be the only one who talks to him.

"How often?"

"Pretty much every day, when you two are gone." Now, he forced himself to be careful. They were treading in dangerous waters here, and the last thing he wanted was for anyone to find out about his current predicament.

Fai picked up his empty glass and poured another shot for himself. Reminded that the bottle was still sitting, neglected, on the coffee table, Kurogane leaned forward and did the same. "Do you remember how the liquor bottles suddenly started disappearing for a while, about a month ago?" Fai asked.

"Yeah. What of it?" He'd assumed Fai had been the one drinking them—thin though he was, the man could hold his alcohol—but if that was the case, it seemed odd that he was bringing it up now, weeks after the fact.

"I had a talk with Syaoran about that. He didn't outright admit it, but it was pretty obvious that he'd been drinking."

Kurogane frowned. It hadn't occurred to him, a month ago, that the kid would develop an alcohol problem. Sure, an occasional night of drinking, that didn't surprise him. But he was pretty sure the mage wouldn't bring it up if that had been it. "Is he still drinking heavily?"

"No, I don't think so. I talked to him, and he stopped. But it's worrisome, don't you think? That he wouldn't even tell us about it?"

Kurogane shrugged. "Might've been too ashamed to admit to that." Among other things.

"The thing is, when I brought it up, he looked almost relieved."

He fidgeted in his seat.

"I just . . . I'm worried that there's something else going on here. Something he's not telling us. And I think he'd have a much easier time talking to you than me."

Kurogane leaned against the back of the couch, letting out an exasperated sigh to mask the relief flooding his body. That could've ended badly, he thought. "You're just shoving this off on me because you don't want to talk to him."

The fact that Fai didn't immediately snap back to his usual, hollow cheer proved how serious he was. "No. I'm doing it because I think he needs help, and I don't know how to help him."

"Fine, then. Go shopping with the princess. I'll talk to him while you're gone. And stop buying sugar. No one needs six packages of sugar in their cupboards."

For the first time in weeks, the mage gave him a genuine smile. "Great. I'll take Sakura out tomorrow so you two can talk."

Yeah, he thought, reaching for the liquor bottle. And now I have to think of something to say to the kid.