Chapter Ninety-Six

The kid poked his head into the room a few minutes later, smiling at the expectant look on Kurogane's face. "Hinata-sensei agreed to let me take you to the hot springs."

"Thank the gods," Kurogane muttered, sitting up. A wave of dizziness crashed over him, forcing him to brace his hand against the floor to keep from slumping back onto the mattress. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he wasn't up for much, and although his desire for a bath outweighed his worry about passing out, he couldn't deny the toll even simple actions took on his body. "Help me up, would you?"

The kid hurried over, his wiry frame sliding under Kurogane's arm and supporting a good portion of his weight. As the dizziness passed, Kurogane took a moment to think about how off-balance he felt with only one arm. His body wanted to tip to the side, and when he walked, he tottered as if he were drunk.

He knew one thing for certain—it would be a nightmare trying to fight like this.

"Are you all right?" the boy asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah, fine. Let's go." He lurched forward, leaning on the kid to keep his balance. The boy took his weight without a word, maneuvering through the corridors with deceptive ease. This kid had all the agility of the other one. Granted, being able to walk around in the real world instead of being suspended in a tube hadn't hurt. It was hard, looking at him, to suppress the stab of envy at his easy grace and strength, considering his own condition. All that blood-loss had left him kitten-weak, making walking a chore where it had once been nothing more than a means of travel.

They made it outside and passed the castle gardens. He could see the signs of spring's approach—flowers blooming in colorful rows, little green buds forming on the stems of bushes, leaves unfurling on their branches. Subtler signs—the whisper of running water, the smell of soil, the slight change in the angle of the sunlight—hinted at the seasonal change on a less obvious level. He breathed in, tasting the verdant air.

"Are you all right?" the boy asked again.

"I'm fine. Jeez. Can't I enjoy spring for five seconds without you getting all worried?"

Syaoran stared at him for a moment, puzzled. "I . . . I didn't know you liked springtime."

He shrugged. Though he didn't care to admit something so sappy, spring was actually his favorite season. The mud puddles formed by melting ice, the explosion of growth and life, the crisp taste of the air as it reached that perfect balance between the dryness of winter and the humidity of summer . . . Everything changed in spring. "It's a good season," he said. "Sucks a lot less than winter."

The kid nodded, starting forward again. "Hinata-san said the hot springs were this way."

"I know. I've lived here most of my life, remember?"

"Ah, right. What was it like? Living here, I mean."

"Well, there were servants to do all the cooking and cleaning and stuff," he said, since that was the first thing to pop into his head. He hadn't had any servants tending to him since Tomoyo had sent him away. The domestic aspects of traveling with three other people had challenged him at first, though he'd have been damned if he'd shown it. In a way, it was strange to be tended to again. "It wasn't much different from the way we've been living. Nicer place to sleep, I guess. I spent a lot more time training here than I did while we were traveling, but I wasn't as busy with other stuff."

Syaoran nodded, seeming interested despite the vagueness of his explanations. "Did you like it here?"

He blinked in surprise. "Well . . . yeah. If I didn't have to deal with the bastard who started all this, I'd probably stay here." He frowned, his mind flashing back to the night Suwa had burned. He could still taste the smoke, could still see the portal where Fei-Wang Reed had thrust his sword through time and space to kill his mother. He could still smell the charnel stench of demons. "It's not about revenge," he said after a moment. "If that was all it was, then I'd be able to set it aside. One of the things I've learned on this journey is that seeking revenge only results in pain. But . . ." He stopped in the middle of the path, looking up at the cherry blossoms. Shy, pink flowers rustled along the branches. "If he lives, he'll only cause us more trouble. I've got too much to lose by ignoring the threat." He looked at the kid, saw the glint of understanding in his eyes.

"It's that way for me, too," the boy eventually said. "I would do anything to protect the people I care about."

I know, he thought, raising his arm to tousle the kid's hair. That's another thing I've learned.

"Take a left," he said after a moment, looking toward a fork in the path. "There are hot springs on both sides, but the ones on the left are more private."

The kid nodded, and together they moved forward again. Just a few paces after the turn, the sound of rushing water grew louder, and the trees parted to reveal a small pool with steam skimming over the top. A few clean towels sat off to the side—the palace servants kept the springs well stocked for those who wanted to bathe there, especially when winter waned and outdoor bathing became less miserable. As he'd suspected, this reservoir was devoid of people, hidden from prying eyes by rows of trees.

"Help me undress," Kurogane ordered.

Syaoran faced him and started untying the knots holding the simple robe in place. The garment fell to his feet, followed moments later by his underclothes. The only thing that remained were the bandages on his side and shoulder.

"These, too," he said, pointing toward his side.

Syaoran balked. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"The bandages will get soggy in the water. The side wound's not that bad, anyway." The last time the healers had unwound the bandages to treat it, it had been an ugly mass of scabs and scar tissue, but they'd told him it was healing up well, so he figured it was time to take the bandages off.

The boy didn't argue, eyeing the wrappings only for a moment before unwinding them. As they came free, Kurogane let out a slow breath, relieved to feel the air on his skin even if the cloth stuck to his scabs, pulling at the wounds.

"There," Syaoran said, stepping back. "It's done."

"Good. Help me into the water."

The boy let Kurogane lean on him again as they eased their way into the shallow end of the pool. The kid ended up getting his kimono wet up to the knees before Kurogane stopped and ordered him back to dry land. He managed to wade thigh-deep in the water before easing his body down to sit. The water nipped at his stump of a shoulder, forcing him into a shallower section of the pool.

The boy watched him for a moment from the edge of the hot spring, then started undressing. Unable to help himself, Kurogane watched him slip off his underclothes, admiring the sinewy lines of his body. The kid had hit a growth spurt, his once-fragile looking shoulders growing broader, the planes of his face less rounded. He moved with confidence, even purpose, his shyness absent even as he stripped off the last of his clothes and walked toward the water. If he'd ever looked like a child, he'd long since outgrown it.

"Here," Syaoran said, coming over to his side. He raised his hand, dripping wet, and splayed his fingers over Kurogane's chest. "Let me help you."

He grunted in assent, leaning back against the rocks. The boy's hands moved deftly over his skin, wiping away the grime that had accumulated since his last bath. After a few minutes, Kurogane closed his eyes, letting the kid scrub his torso, hips, legs. The boy even tilted his head back to wash his hair, fingers rubbing his scalp in little circles. Absently, Kurogane wished he'd remembered to bring soap. The mage and the pork bun were constantly buying personal hygiene products—things that left his skin almost unnaturally clean and his hair shiny and manageable. They kept some stored away for when they fell into less developed worlds, but neither he nor the kid had thought to grab anything before they'd come here.

Either way, he didn't really want to ruin the moment by sending the boy away, so he sat back, content to let the kid wash his hair. Eventually, the kid's hands left his scalp and sank below the water's surface to probe at the skin around his scabs. "Did the healers say anything about how to clean this?"

Kurogane shrugged. "I suppose you clean it as best as you can without ripping all the scabs off." His eyelids opened, and he ran his hand down the boy's arm. "I can do it, if you don't want to."

Syaoran shook his head. "No. I've got it." He traced his fingertips lightly along the edge of the wound. "Once, I came back from the library in Infinity with a black eye, and you cleaned my wounds. That . . . I think that was one of the first times I'd trusted someone since I'd escaped Fei-Wang's prison." He lifted his head, his expression warming with the memory. "I want to do the same for you."

Kurogane considered that, then nodded. "All right."

The kid's hands ran along the wound, his touch light, almost nonexistent as he cleared away the loose scabs. He looked focused, like a painter working on a masterpiece, and Kurogane spent those few minutes admiring the intensity of his focus, memorizing the way his features shifted in concentration: eyebrows pinched together, slanted inward just slightly; mouth set in a firm line, but not brittle or hard enough to show frustration; head tilted forward, toward the water; eyes that glowed like embers with warmth. When the boy pulled away, Kurogane let his hand tangle in his hair, and they shared a look that made his breath catch.

The boy leaned forward, their mouths meeting the way sunshine touched bare skin. Warmth and light and love. The moment came and went in the time it took to breathe in, then faded, leaving a soft glow between them.

Gods, when did I get so sappy? he wondered as the moment faded. The thought had no bite to it. At least he kept the romantic musings to himself. People would mock him mercilessly if they ever found out he'd gone soft.

"We should go back," Kurogane said. "Unless you wanted to bathe yourself first."

The kid smiled. "I think that can wait," he said, and started pulling him back to dry land.