Chapter Ninety-Five

"More sedatives?"

Hinata Yamura eyed her patient wearily, wishing he'd stayed unconscious. "You lost a significant amount of blood when you chopped off your arm," she reminded him, tapping the edge of her scroll for emphasis. "You shouldn't even be walking yet."

Kurogane scowled at her, his hand curling into a fist as he paced the length of the room. A sheen of sweat made his skin glisten, a product of the unnecessary—and stupid—expenditure of energy. But she didn't try to stop him. She'd learned from previous visits that Kurogane would be more inclined to listen to reason if she let him exhaust himself.

"I don't need any sedatives," Kurogane grumbled, sitting down at the edge of his mattress. He reminded her of a sulky child, pouting for attention. Had he actually been a child, the act might have been endearing. But he was not, and so he only gave her a headache.

"You could take the sedatives willingly, or I could slip them into your food. Either way, you'll take them."

The ninja moved as if to cross his arms, then hissed in frustration when he ended up holding his remaining arm awkwardly in front of his chest. Grimacing, he lowered it. "I'm not taking any damn sedatives. And if you try putting them in my food, I won't eat."

Stubborn fool, she thought, with equal parts resignation and annoyance. She tried a different tactic. "Do I have to bring your vampire friend in here and have him punch you again?"

Kurogane's hackles rose. "That was a lucky shot! I'd been unconscious for days."

Hinata felt her eyes narrow. "You won't sleep well without the sedatives. Never mind the pain—the way you act, you won't be able to sit still long enough to sleep. Or," she continued ruthlessly before he could argue, "you'll sleep sitting up, fall over, and land on your wounds."

The ninja's face actually paled a little at that. "Would not."

"You would. I suggest you take the medicine."

"Hey, why do you look so familiar?" he asked suddenly, as if it had only just occurred to him that he might know her.

She sighed. "I have been your healer since you came into Shirasagi Castle—I've treated you for poisoning, blood loss, and sleep deprivation. I should hope I'm familiar to you."

"That's not it." The ninja frowned, the annoyance fading from his face as he scrutinized her. "You've been my healer that long?"

Given the way you refuse treatment, it's little wonder you can't remember, she thought but did not say. "Yes. I have. And to address your previous question, your companions told me you all had met an alternate version of myself in one of the worlds you recently traveled to."

Kurogane's eyebrows pulled together, his expression growing even more intent. "You . . . That doctor in Infinity. She was another version of you."

She nodded.

"Well damn, she was a freaking pushover. No wonder I didn't see the resemblance."

Hinata sighed. "I'm going to go get the sedatives. When I come back, I'm going to give them to you and you are going to take them. Am I understood?"

"I don't want—"

"Am I understood?" she demanded. Surprise flickered across the man's face, followed by irritation.

"Tch. Do whatever you want. I still won't take them."

Fool, she thought, spinning on her heel and walking out. She strode through the corridor, frustration rolling off her shoulders like water off river rocks. Other healers quailed as she stalked past, and one of her apprentices actually turned and hurried in the opposite direction when he saw her face. Control, she thought. You're a healer. You have to stay in control of yourself.

At the end of the hallway, the brown-haired boy who had arrived with Kurogane appeared, peering down the corridor before starting toward the ninja's room. That could work, Hinata thought, her anger derailed as an idea struck her. She waved the boy over and saw the look of alarm flash across his face.

"Is something wrong?" he asked when they met.

"Kurogane-sama won't take his medicine. You're going to help me make sure he does."

Shock danced in the boy's eyes. "I don't think I'm qualified to—"

"It doesn't matter. I've known the man since he walked into this castle—he'll do anything if the people he cares about ask for it." And many things they won't ask for, she thought. She'd heard quite a bit about the circumstances of Kurogane's injuries, and though she hadn't understood all of it, she knew he'd sacrificed his arm—and his sword—to save his companions.

The boy followed her to the room where she prepared medicine for her patients. She'd already set up most of the herbs she'd been planning to give the ninja, so all she had to do was gather them in a bowl and mix them together with a wooden stirring stick. "He'll be more willing to take these if he knows he has people waiting for him to recover." She studied the boy for a moment, then nodded to herself. "You'll do."

"Okay, but . . . What should I say?"

"Whatever it takes." She stepped out into the hall and walked briskly back to the room where Kurogane rested. "What's important is that he ingests everything in this bowl. I'm busy with other patients, so I don't have all day to argue with him. These will knock him out for a few hours so he can get some real rest." She pulled the sliding door open and placed the bowl at the ninja's side. "Eat this," she ordered.

"I'm not taking a sedative!"

"Yes, you are." Without another word, she walked back into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Honestly, she thought. Some people just can't be reasoned with.

Syaoran hovered in the doorway for several seconds before taking a seat next to Kurogane. "Hinata-sensei said you weren't taking your medicine."

Kurogane made a sound of disgust. "She wants me to stay in bed and sleep. Like I even could, with everything that's happened lately. She's more irritating than the witch."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow, surprised. He hadn't thought anyone could annoy Kurogane quite like Yuuko did.

"You really should take your medicine. I think it would help." He dared to raise his head, then repressed a wince at the dangerous glint in Kurogane's eye.

"I don't want it."

Syaoran glanced at the bowl Hinata had left in the room, then back at the ninja's face. "Is there anything I could do to change your mind?" he asked, stepping forward.

"No."

"Nothing at all?" He raised his hand to run his fingers across Kurogane's chest. He felt the man's sudden intake of breath, felt the stillness that followed. He let his fingertips move steadily downward, tracing the ninja's plated abdomen. The back of his neck burned as his fingertips paused just above Kurogane's pants. Embarrassed by the lack of response, he shied away. "I mean . . . Not that this would be a bribe, or anything, I just thought . . ."

Kurogane's hand closed over his mouth, sealing off the rush of words. His face turned to stone, leaving his red eyes as cold and hard as rubies. "Not a bribe?" He leaned closer. "Who the hell do you think you're kidding here?"

He tried to speak through the hand covering his mouth. His words came out as an unintelligible mumble. Abruptly, Kurogane lurched forward, hand wrapping around Syaoran's throat and applying just enough pressure to cause discomfort. Their eyes met and held for several seconds before Syaoran looked away. "I was just offering. This isn't . . . We're not exchanging favors, you know."

A strange mixture of surprise and guilt flickered across the ninja's face, followed, inexplicably, by embarrassment. His fingers unfurled, hand dropping to his side. "I know that."

"Then . . . do you want to?"

"I . . . can't."

Syaoran cocked his head to the side, puzzled. "Because of your arm?" That doesn't make any sense.

"No." Kurogane sat back, not meeting his eyes. "It's not that. It's just that I lost of lot of blood, so I can't . . . you know . . . I can't do anything like that until I get better. Might take a few more days."

Syaoran was about to ask for clarification when insight struck. Oh, he thought, his own cheeks lighting up. Of course. "I didn't think about that."

Kurogane shrugged, staring at the corner of his mattress. As Syaoran studied him, he realized how pale the ninja still was, despite his rapid recovery. Even blushing, his skin looked sallow, bloodless.

Syaoran shifted closer to the ninja, leaning into his side. "Okay. We don't have to do that. What else do you like?"

"Sword practice," Kurogane answered after a moment. Before Syaoran could suggest that such a strenuous activity might be out of the man's reach, Kurogane continued. "I wouldn't mind a bath. The healers are too busy to bathe their patients daily, and when they do, the water is cold enough to freeze Hell."

Syaoran nodded, relieved to have something to do. "Do you think they'll let me take you to the hot springs? The water will be much warmer there."

"Maybe. I don't know. Go ask."

"Okay. But only if you promise to take your medicine afterward," he added, remembering the healer's orders.

Kurogane groaned. "Fine. Jeez."

Syaoran smiled and planted a kiss on the man's cheek. "I'll go make sure it's okay," he said, hurrying out of the room.