Chapter Sixty-Five

Kurogane and Fai hadn't killed each other in his absence. That was the only good thing Syaoran could've said when he saw them in the lobby. They stood on opposite sides of the wide room, throwing glares in each other's directions whenever they thought the other wasn't looking, and when Syaoran walked in, they both rushed over as if whoever got to him first would claim some sort of victory.

"I'm ready to go back to the apartment," he said as Doctor Yamura pushed his empty wheelchair into the lobby. Kurogane took it without a word.

"He'll be sore after his physical therapy," she said, handing Kurogane a pamphlet. "That includes more detailed information on what he'll need to do to get his knee functioning normally again. All of you need to read this and make sure everything gets dealt with. Understood?"

The ninja's expression soured. He opened the pamphlet, nearly ripping the shiny paper.

Fai turned to Syaoran. "Do you want to sit down for a bit?"

Syaoran shook his head, remembering the doctor's words about asserting his need for independence. "I want to walk."

And walk he did, though his arms started to ache after half a block. Though the crutches were padded at the top to reduce discomfort, bearing the weight of his body using primarily his arms made him sore. Still, he preferred walking over returning to his wheelchair, and he knew there was a bed waiting for him once he made it to the apartment.

As they paused at an intersection waiting for traffic to clear, Fai turned to him. "Are you sure you don't want to use your chair? We've still got a few blocks to go."

A spark of annoyance bloomed in his chest at the vampire's concern. Not only had Fai gone behind his back and told Doctor Yamura about his panic attacks, but he still hadn't confessed to doing so. And yet he doesn't want me to keep secrets from the princess, Syaoran thought, trying to reconcile his anger with the fact that Fai only meant to help him. But still, to just tell someone about that without talking to him first . . .

He couldn't accept that, he realized. Couldn't forgive Fai until the wizard admitted he'd made a mistake.

The light turned, and he crossed the intersection, the others flanking him on each side to keep other pedestrians from colliding with him. His crutches slid over the black ice, and twice, he nearly lost his footing. The second time, Kurogane caught him by the arm before he could fall, his hands warm even through the barrier of Syaoran's coat. Their eyes met, the thinnest of connections forming between them as they stood, unmoving, in the crosswalk.

Syaoran could feel Fai's eyes on the back of his neck. Watching. Waiting for one of them to slip up and prove his disdain for their relationship valid. Syaoran's heart quickened under the pressure to step back.

Because he didn't want to step back. He wanted to lean on Kurogane. And according to Fai, that was wrong.

"You all right?" Kurogane asked when Syaoran didn't immediately regain his footing. Startled out of his reverie, he repositioned his crutches and started forward again, at half the pace of the pedestrians swarming around them.

Over his head, his companions exchanged a glance. And judging by the way Kurogane's knuckles whitened with tension, it wasn't a friendly glance.

They kept walking, pausing every few minutes when they reached busy intersections and had to stop. When their apartment building came into view, Syaoran let out a sigh of relief. The ache in his arms had gone from uncomfortable to painful, his upper arms throbbing with every heartbeat. His knee, accustomed to the stability of a cast, had started to ache as well. You can't be immobile forever, he reminded himself. It's going to get worse before it gets better.

They reached the front doors of the apartment building. Fai held the door for him while Kurogane waited on the sidewalk, ready to push the wheelchair in after him. Syaoran hurried inside, relieved to be off the treacherous ice and into the warmth. He crossed the lobby, his resolve renewed as they drew closer to the apartment.

And then he got to the stairs.

He paused, staring down at the door of their apartment. It stood barely ten feet away, but with almost a dozen steps between the doorway and where he stood, the distance seemed insurmountable. It felt like staring down a long, empty hallway in a horror movie.

Fai paused at his side, perhaps noting the same issue. A lump rose in his throat at the thought of asking for help. Kurogane had carried him down here last time, but with Fai standing guard beside him, Syaoran doubted he'd receive such assistance now. So he stood there, considering the safest way to descend the steps. There wasn't a railing, and his crutches were meant for level ground, so the only support he'd have would come from his good leg and the wall.

Right now, he didn't have faith in either of those things.

Nothing you can do about it, he reminded himself, leaning against the wall and tucking his crutches under one arm. If you fall, you'll only break your neck. He eased his good leg onto the first step, teeth pressing together with anxiety.

A hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him back up. "Don't even think about it," Kurogane said, drawing him away from the staircase. Their eyes met, and a jolt shot through his heart, part relief and part desire. His eyes flickered to Fai, noting the rigid line of his shoulders, the narrowing of his single eye.

Very deliberately, Syaoran took Kurogane's hand. "Can you carry me down? I'm not sure I can make it without falling."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Fai's hackles rise. His fingernails shot out two inches, sharpening as his eye yellowed. But he said nothing as Kurogane nodded. "Sure, kid."

Syaoran leaned his crutches against the wall, allowing the ninja to lift him up. Automatically, he wound his arms around the red-eyed man's neck, pressing his cheek against the ninja's collarbone. Kurogane froze, eyes darting down at his face.

Syaoran closed his eyes, going still. He felt, rather than heard, Kurogane sigh. Then his weight shifted, signaling the beginning of their descent. "Mage, come unlock the door."

Fai's voice was as brittle as the first fragile layer of ice over a pond. "Of course." His footsteps tapped down the steps after them, louder than usual. Syaoran's arms tightened around Kurogane's neck as the vampire brushed past them to unlock the door.

If emotional coldness could've translated to physical coldness, the door would've frozen shut. As it was, it swung open with a faint creak. Kurogane carried him through, walking past the kitchen and pausing when they reached the living room. "You planning to sleep in bed or on the couch tonight?"

His bedroom was a few paces farther, which meant a few more seconds in the ninja's arms. And although he felt pathetic for having that line of thought, he said, "My bedroom, please."

Kurogane carried him the extra five steps to his bedroom, opening the new door and laying him on the crisp sheets of his mattress. Syaoran unwound his arms, hands lingering on Kurogane's shoulders a moment more. From the way the ninja quirked one eyebrow, the gesture wasn't lost on him. Syaoran looked down. "Sorry."

Kurogane sighed, closing his eyes. "Call if you need anything. I'll be around."

"Thank you." He pulled the sheets over his body, not bothering with pajamas. Even without the cast, the brace would make changing clothes complicated. And after his long walk, he felt too sore and exhausted to move around much. But he didn't sleep—didn't try to.

Instead, he pressed an ear to the wall and waited for the inevitable argument to begin.