Chapter Seventy

The intensity frightened him sometimes.

Syaoran laid in his bed, body flush against Kurogane's chest as the aftershocks rippled through him. A sheen of sweat clung to his shoulders and back, making his skin sticky. It had been three weeks since Fai had discreetly stepped aside and allowed them to be together like this, and Syaoran couldn't deny that he'd taken advantage of the silent permission. They'd slept together nearly every opportunity, their liaisons ranging from tender to desperate to painful. He'd fallen behind on his recommended physical therapy in favor of a newer, more pleasant sort of exercise. And, to his surprise and relief, the uncomfortable mechanics of the act had eased, becoming almost painless as his body had grown used to them.

"We should get dressed," Kurogane said, sliding away and dangling his legs over the edge of the mattress. Syaoran crawled out of the way and tossed the sheets toward the foot of the bed. He'd pull them back into place later. He leaned forward, searching for his clothes among the pile of discarded sheets and unwashed laundry, then sighed as he realized he'd need to wash laundry tomorrow. Maybe if I split my clothes into separate baskets, it won't seem so heavy, he thought. Though his leg had strengthened enough for him to walk without crutches, he still preferred not to put too much weight on it.

"The princess wants to know if you'll be okay to start going to chess matches again," Kurogane said abruptly, pulling his jeans up.

Syaoran bit his lip, trying not to wince at the thought of trying to fight in his condition. But they needed money to pay rent, and his medical bills hadn't been cheap, despite their tournament-provided health insurance. If Sakura was pushing them to start attending chess games again, it probably meant that they were running low on funds. "All right."

"You sure you're up to it?"

He nodded. "We've been stalled for a long time now. We have to at least try to move forward."

Kurogane regarded him for a long moment, then rested a hand atop his head. "Take it easy, all right? We don't need anyone getting hurt."

Again, he nodded, hearing the worry in Kurogane's voice. "I will."

The ninja tousled his hair and stood. Syaoran bit his lip, fidgeting on top of the mattress. Just as Kurogane grabbed the doorknob, Syaoran spoke. "Wait."

"What is it?" Kurogane asked, looking back.

Syaoran stood and walked over to him, his leg aching. Uncertainly, he let his fingertips trail across the ninja's arm, looking up at him as he struggled to decide what to say. Whatever they had now, it was more than a physical connection. Yet he couldn't accurately identify their bond as pure friendship. It made him wonder if he should have said something more the day they'd slept together after Fai had eased up. "I . . ." he began, the rest of the sentence catching in his throat.

Kurogane arched an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. "Yeah?"

What happens if you say it? Syaoran asked himself. What if it's a mistake? What if things change? "I just . . ."

The ninja's eyebrows slanted with impatience. "Spit it out."

Say it, he told himself. Say it. Because if it's true and you don't say it, someday you won't have a chance to. He opened his mouth, then closed it, losing his resolve. Rather than saying anything, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the ninja's, just taking a moment to be near him, to treasure what they had.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine," he whispered, throat tightening. As his vision blurred, he pressed his face against Kurogane's chest and wrapped his arms around the man's torso. "I'm f-fine," he repeated, hating the tremor in his voice, the weakness.

Kurogane ran a hand down his back. "'Fine,' huh?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice. After a moment, the ninja returned the embrace. "Was it too rough today?"

Face flushing, Syaoran shook his head. "No. No, it's not that. It's just . . . What we have . . . It's important to me." He shivered. "So important that I don't know what I'd do if it changed." If I was the one to change it. If I pushed it too far or made too much out of it.

"It doesn't have to change."

"I know," he said, feeling irrational. Because there was a part of him that wanted it to change into something more. Something like what he'd felt around his Sakura before he'd turned back time. And that scared him.

For once, Kurogane didn't press him for more. He just held Syaoran until his embrace loosened, then drew his fingertips across his cheek. "Is that all, then?"

"Yes. That's all," Syaoran lied. He closed his eyes, took a breath, then looked at the ninja's face. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." Kurogane planted a kiss on his forehead, then opened the door and stepped into the living room.

As the door closed between them, Syaoran wrapped his arms around his chest, closing his eyes. "Yeah. Love you, too," he whispered into the empty room.

A dagger sailed past his leg and cracked one of the tiles. Syaoran looked up, his attention straying from his primary opponent as his eyes zeroed in on the rangy man who'd thrown the knife. In the time it took to look that way, his other opponent, a girl with bleached hair, darted toward him, a serrated blade in each hand. Syaoran adjusted his stance, wincing as his weight shifted to his healing leg, then raised his strong leg so his heel crashed into the girl's collarbone. She staggered back, nearly dropping her knife. Before she could regain her bearings, Syaoran rushed forward to cut her tournament collar off so she'd be eliminated from the match.

He didn't quite manage it. Just as he was about to strike, her arm jerked, bringing her weapon within inches of opening his throat. Syaoran reared back, grunting when he hit the ground. Instinctively, he rolled, avoiding a fatal stab wound. The girl's knife still managed to slice through his shirt sleeve, drawing a line of blood from his upper arm. Not good, he thought, planting his feet and shooting back up into a fighting stance. The movement sent a jolt of pain through his knee that nearly staggered him, and he bit his lip hard to suppress a yelp. Another dagger streaked past his face, so close he could hear the blade parting the air. He jumped back, the pain in his joint reaching a peak.

A black figure stepped into the space between him and his opponent. Syaoran tensed, raising his weapon, then lowering it again when he recognized Kurogane. The ninja intercepted the blonde's next strike and carved a deep gash across her abdomen with his tournament-approved sword. Blood splattered the arena floor as the chess-master for the other team held up a hand in surrender.

"Match over!" the announcer declared. "Victory to the Black Team."

Applause reverberated through the stands, making the floor vibrate. At once, Syaoran sat, the sharp pain in his joint easing as he took his weight off it. The arena's medical team rushed in, pulling the injured girl onto a gurney while some of the interns went around the battlefield checking for other injuries.

"You all right?" Kurogane asked, turning to him.

"I'm fine." He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, trying to focus on that sensation alone as the pain in his leg abated. One of the medical interns approached him, crouching down to examine his knee. "I'm all right. It's an old injury."

She frowned, but backed off. Syaoran forced himself to stand, resting his weight on his good leg.

"Here," Kurogane said, extending one arm. "Lean on me."

He looked at the ninja, then at Fai, standing across the arena. Despite the blond's quiet permission regarding their other activities, it was obvious Fai still disapproved of their relationship. He probably thinks Kurogane manipulated me into this, he thought, grimacing as he leaned against the ninja' side. Kurogane's hand rested on his shoulder, propping him up. As they started walking toward the elevator leading back to the prep room, Fai's gaze settled on them. Hastily, Syaoran averted his eyes, turning his face toward Kurogane's chest as they descended to the main floor.

Not a word passed between them as they split up to head into their individual changing rooms. Syaoran slipped out of his collar and pushed his arms through the sleeves of his coat. He sat on the bench for a moment, closing his eyes. Perhaps it had been too soon to return to the arena, but at least none of his companions had been seriously hurt. That's something to be thankful for, he thought, grabbing his crutches from where they leaned against the wall. He'd brought them in case he hurt his knee in the fight, though he hadn't actually expected to use them, since he'd been walking without assistance for over a week now.

He brushed the curtain separating his room from the main prep area aside and headed toward the door to wait for the others. Fai, Kurogane, and Sakura each emerged from their changing rooms, collars and chains absent, and together, they headed out into the lobby.

"Are you going to be all right if we sign up for another match next week?" Sakura asked, regarding him with her usual aloofness.

"Sure. Of course." His grip tightened on the crutches, but he said no more as Sakura towed Kurogane along to sign them up for another match. Kurogane could read Infinity's written language with ease, and after spending months working through books from the library, Syaoran had become fairly proficient with it as well. The Other had encountered similar language in his travels with Fujitaka, though he hadn't had an opportunity to become fluent in it. It's lucky I can read this language, he thought. Otherwise what would I do all day?

He frowned, face warming as he considered what he'd have wanted to be doing, had he been unable to read. Or rather, what he would be doing if Fai and Sakura didn't spend twenty-three hours a day in the apartment. This level of obsession can't be healthy, he thought, chewing on his lower lip. Absorbed in his thoughts, it took him a moment to realize Fai had been staring at him since the others had walked over to the participants' desk. "What is it?" he asked, shrinking back.

Fai regarded him for several seconds. "How's your leg?"

"It's fine."

"You're using your crutches again."

You wouldn't approve of the alternative, he thought, remembering how Fai had looked at him when he'd leaned against Kurogane on their way out of the arena. "It's nothing to worry about," he said, wondering if Fai heard the double-meaning in his words.

Fai's gaze flickered to the others, who were still busy doing paperwork as they set up their next match. After a moment, Fai looked down. "I'm sorry."

Syaoran flinched, mouth falling open. "I don't understand."

"I misjudged the situation. I didn't intend to make things worse for you. I meant to help."

His chest constricted. "I know."

Fai hesitated for a moment, biting his lip. Then, voice dropping to a murmur, he spoke. "He cares very deeply about you. I don't know if you would consider it love, but . . ." Again, he paused, weighing his words. "I rescind my ultimatum. You don't have to tell Sakura-chan about it unless you want to."

Syaoran froze, suspicion bubbling up under his skin. Fai was lifting his ultimatum? Openly? Syaoran had come to regard the magician's silent permission as an opportunity. Initially, he'd even suspected that Fai had allowed them the freedom in order to catch them off-guard later. He'd lost hours of sleep worrying, wondering when that unspoken permission would end, thinking Fai would one day cut his evening outing with Sakura short and expose his secret in the most humiliating manner possible.

Fai must've read the suspicion on his face, because he sighed. "I mean that. If that's the path you're going to choose, I'm not going to hold it against you. Just . . . I don't want anyone to get hurt over this. That's all."

"Why the change?" he asked.

Fai closed his eye. "It seems like our journey becomes more perilous with every world we fall into. If it ends . . . abruptly, I'd prefer us to be on good terms with each other."

Disquiet stirred in his stomach. "Are you expecting it to end abruptly?"

"No, no. Of course not. I just don't want to take the chance." He looked toward the others, smiling as they approached. "Are we all set?" he asked Sakura.

"Yes. Next Tuesday, at the usual time."

Eight days, Syaoran thought, feeling a strange tremor of premonition. The timing seemed ominous somehow, like a looming deadline for him to heal. His eyes slid over each of his companions' faces. His gaze settled on Fai, their brief conversation echoing in his ears.

It's only another chess match, he reminded himself as they started for the doors. What could possibly go wrong?

Author's Notes:

That last sentence should go on a list titled "Things Fictional Characters Should Never Say." Anyway, Merry Christmas to all my loyal royal readers. As a present, I've decided to accept one request for a oneshot - any pairing, idea, or plot - for the Tsubasa Chronicle archives, so if you have anything you want me to write that can fit into a oneshot, submit your request in either a review or a personal message, and I will consider it my next project.

Guidelines for idea submissions:

1. I'd prefer not to write KuroFai, but if enough people want me to, I will.

2. I will accept crack pairings or plots.

3. I will not make things deliberately Out Of Character, even for cracky situations. So crack is acceptable, but if you want Kurogane to break into song, you're going to be disappointed.

4. You may submit numerous ideas, even after I've written the oneshot. If I like the idea enough, I'll write an extra oneshot when I have time.

5. If you so desire, I will write side-stories or post-stories on things I've already written in the fandom.

6. I will only accept one idea/pairing/plot for this oneshot, but may eventually write others.

7. I will give you credit for the request/idea, even if I don't use the idea until later.