Author's Notes:
The posting of this chapter coincides with my dad's return from the hospital. With his return, I will soon be qualified to write about the injury-related things I've already posted, though I don't expect too many revisions. But the main reason I'm telling you all this is because I haven't really told any of my friends about my dad's surgeries, and I needed someone to talk to. So I talk to you readers.
Side Note: All I want for Christmas is a social life. And a bookshelf. A bookshelf would be nice.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Kurogane shut the bedroom door, took a deep breath, and turned to the mage. "All right. If you're going to say something, say it."
Fai's eye flashed to his face, as cold and dark as the center of a glacier. But instead of an accusation, the apartment resonated with silence. The vampire walked over to the kitchen, pulled two bottles of liquor off the rack, along with a pair of shot glasses, and set them on the coffee table. "Drink," he said, his expression unreadable.
What is he playing at? Kurogane wondered, approaching the couch. He unscrewed the top of one bottle and poured some into each tiny glass. He can't actually believe pumping me full of alcohol is going to change anything, so what's he doing? He brought the first shot to his lips, downed it, then set the empty glass on the table.
From across the coffee table, the mage regarded him, face devoid of emotion. "Well?" Kurogane said. "You going to accuse me of something? Because I'm waiting."
"I'm thirsty."
He frowned, surprised by the statement. But the mage said nothing else, and after a moment, Kurogane held out his arm, wrist facing up. "Okay."
Fai bristled, as if he'd been looking for the opposite response. Fine, the ninja thought, fuming. Then I'm not giving him any ammo.
The mage's single eye glowed yellow. His throat swelled and collapsed with every breath. His arms wound around his torso as if he was struggling to hold his guts in. The look of a man fighting for control. And losing. Badly.
Kurogane sighed. "Mage, look: I may be an asshole sometimes, but I'm not going to let you starve. All you have to do is ask." Not even that much, he thought, still holding out his arm. The implication is enough.
The blood had seeped out of the vampire's face, leaving it as pallid as it had been in Tokyo. He lurched forward, claws shooting out of his fingertips. One dagger-sharp nail ran along Kurogane's wrist, deep enough to draw blood, but not so deep as to cut into a vital blood vessel. In an instant, Fai's mouth fastened over the cut, suckling blood away like a newborn suckling milk. Kurogane closed his eyes, wishing he'd taken Fai's suggestion to have a drink more seriously. It wasn't that having the mage feed on him was painful, though the initial cut always stung a bit. Mostly, it was just inconvenient.
But the idiot hadn't even alluded to being thirsty despite over a week without feeding. And Kurogane hadn't even thought to offer. Dealing with the wizard's constant antagonism had taken up a lot of his focus, sure, but his inattentiveness was still inexcusable. You have responsibilities besides the kid, he reminded himself. You can't just forget that.
Fai drank deep, until the blood loss left Kurogane dazed. As the vampire released his arm and stepped back, he sank into the couch cushions, tilting his head back. The mage wiped his mouth, claws retracting. When he didn't say anything after a few minutes, Kurogane spoke. "So you're not even going to say anything about me carrying the kid downstairs?"
"He relies on you."
Of course he does. "So?"
Fai was quiet for a moment. Then he sat down on the edge of the couch, folding his hands on his lap. "You care for him."
"Yeah. And?"
"Do you love him?"
Kurogane bristled, then grabbed the liquor bottle again, pouring a shot for himself. Then a second, stalling as he tried to formulate a response. "Does it matter?"
"It might."
Bastard still won't give me a straight answer, he thought, annoyed. He poured a third shot and drank it as he thought some more. Finally, he said, "I don't know. Haven't thought about it much."
A few seconds passed in silence. Fai picked up the unused shot glass and drank deep, staring at the coffee table as if the patterns in the wood held some hidden meaning. "Do you think he loves you?"
He tensed, as wary as if he'd walked into an enemy encampment. "If he does, he hasn't said anything."
"But you understand people. You do," Fai insisted when he opened his mouth to disagree. "You understand people on an instinctual level. I don't think you could be ignorant of something like that."
Kurogane shrugged. "He might. He might not. Love wasn't part of the deal."
Fai laughed once without humor. "You would phrase it as a deal."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You might be able to call it a deal and live with that. As long as that connection was reliable and unchanging, I could understand that working for you. But Syaoran-kun needs more than that, and if you're not going to give it to him, you shouldn't lead him on like this."
"I wasn't leading him on. He wasn't about to let you carry him down the stairs—hell, he probably weighs more than you do."
Fai paused, seeming to consider that, then nodded. "Fair enough."
"And if you think we didn't define our deal better than that, then you're an even bigger idiot than I thought. We did it because it suited us, not out of love." Frustrated, he knocked back another shot. The alcohol burned down his throat, coiling in his stomach.
"Kurogane, when was the last time you were in love with someone?"
He rolled his eyes. "I don't fall in love."
"So, never?"
"Never." The word reverberated with finality.
"That's . . . actually sort of sad," Fai said, sipping at the edge of his shot glass.
"Why does any of it matter to you?" Kurogane demanded. "You're not going to change your mind. You're too fucking stubborn. So why bother asking?"
"Why indeed?" Fai met his gaze for the first time since the beginning of his conversation, frowning. After a moment, he leaned back, rubbing his thumbs against the condensation clinging to his glass. "I think I'll go shopping tomorrow," he said. "We're running low on bread, and Sakura-chan could use some new clothes—she's nearly outgrown the ones we started out with."
Kurogane's eyes narrowed. Was the bastard actually trying to bait him into sleeping with the kid while he was out, just to prove a goddamn point? "Just what kind of game do you think you're playing?"
"I'm amenable to compromise, Kurogane. I'd prefer one of you tells Sakura-chan what's going on if you two decide to resume your previous . . . activities. But expecting you to do that is unrealistic, and I can't stand over your shoulder for the rest of this journey. The road ahead of us is too long."
"Why the change of heart?" he demanded. There had to be some ulterior motive. Was the mage going to try to catch them in the act, incriminate them somehow? Was he going to lead the princess back early and let her find out that way?
"Some things have come to light," Fai said simply. "And when things move forward again, it will be . . . inadvisable for us to be at odds with each other."
Kurogane arched an eyebrow. "You got anything more specific than that?" he asked, a hint of danger seeping into his voice.
Fai poured himself another shot. "No. That's all I had to say." He stood, not swaying at all despite the alcohol in his system. It had to be magic, Kurogane decided—no one that skinny ought to have such a high alcohol tolerance. A subtler kind of magic than what he'd seen so far, but that was the only explanation. The mage walked over to their shared bedroom, then paused at the door. "I won't try to dictate your actions anymore. All I ask is that you extend the same courtesy to me."
Saving your ass by striking a deal, Kurogane thought, seething. Damn, the wizard could be a bastard sometimes. Still, it wasn't the sort of offer he could afford to turn down. Not with the kid falling apart in the next room. So he said nothing as the door closed between them.
Fai perched himself on the edge of the bed and folded his hands in his lap, breathing hard, torn between what he'd chosen and what he wished he'd chosen. But then, you've lived your entire life in constant regret, he thought bitterly. So why should this matter?
It didn't, he decided. Being stern hadn't helped. It had only driven Syaoran into a deeper depression. The casual affection between the boy and the ninja had remained. Whatever they chose now, it wasn't up to him. And it never was. Should have never been. You can't even handle your own decisions.
He sighed, holding his head in his hands. A constant ache pulsed in his temples, a counterpoint to the pain spearing through the back of his head. Part of it was thirst, he knew, and that pain faded as Kurogane's blood worked through his system. The other part was sleep deprivation. Nightmares had plagued him every night for the past month, and they were only getting worse, more vivid.
So vivid, in fact, that some of them intruded on his waking thoughts, eclipsing them as Ceres's two moons sometimes eclipsed the sun. And when Chi's voice had come to him, warning him of his king's awakening, every second had felt like a nightmare. We have to start moving again, he thought. I have to keep running. I have to do something.
He ran his fingers through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp, pulling loose strands from his head. The golden wisps wound around his fingers like strings plucked from a violin.
Fai rested his face in his hands, resolving to move forward, whatever it took. He was fated to betray the others—the least he could do was give them a few days of happiness, even if it would backfire later. Not that there was going to be a later. Not for any of them.