Chapter One-Hundred-Thirteen

How can I make him understand? Syaoran wondered, absently stroking Kurogane's ribs. They'd both fallen silent, preoccupied with their thoughts. How can I prove to him that he's been kind to me? How can I prove to him that he deserves to be loved?

Someone knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Kurogane growled as Syaoran slipped out of his embrace.

"It's me," Fai called from the hallway. "Are you two decent?"

Syaoran blushed, wondering what Fai thought they'd been doing. Hastily, he straightened his clothes and hair, even though he'd done nothing worth being ashamed of. "We're fine," he called, wincing at the strangled quality of his voice. He felt Kurogane's eyes on him as the door opened.

"Hinata-sensei said you'd be awake by now," Fai said, glancing at Kurogane.

The ninja shrugged. "I'd have been awake a lot sooner if she hadn't dumped those sedatives in the tea."

"Oh, don't be so grumpy." Humor danced in the magician's eye, seeming out of place after the stress of the past few weeks. Months. Syaoran could barely remember a time when Fai had been happy, and that had been before Syaoran had arrived in Tokyo. Fai had recovered some of his previous cheer, but he still sometimes wore the expression of someone who had just lost something precious. His current smile reflected none of that sorrow. "Hinata-sensei's only making sure you behave yourself. Speaking of which . . . you are behaving, yes?"

The suggestive edge to Fai's tone made the color on Syaoran's cheeks deepen. "Um, Fai-san, is there a reason you're here?"

"Just checking in to make sure Kuro-pon here hasn't fallen into a coma."

Kurogane scowled. "Cut the crap. Why are you really here?"

The magician's smile faltered. "I spoke with Tomoyo-hime. She said that an important guest had arrived and wished to speak with you."

"Who?"

"She didn't say, but she did tell me it was a matter of utmost importance."

Looking wary, Kurogane rose to his feet. "Where does she want us to meet?"

"Outside, where Sakura-chan is sleeping." He hesitated only a moment over the last word, making it sound almost natural. Syaoran flinched anyway. "She said we should all go as soon as we were able."

"Great. Well, kid, we'd better get going."

"But what about your head? You're not fully recovered."

"Jeez, you'd think I gotten run over by a train or something," Kurogane muttered. "I'm fine. Stop worrying so much."

Syaoran frowned, but couldn't help the pang of relief he felt, hearing the annoyance in the ninja's voice. He really does seem fine. He slid his hand into Kurogane's, searching for some sign of approval in his eyes, but the ninja started walking, paying no attention to the touch. Linked together, they walked down the hall and toward one of the main exits. Once outside, they crossed the wooden bridge that spanned the area linking the imperial garden and the tree where Sakura had been "sleeping" since they'd recovered her body from Ceres. As they approached the sakura tree, Syaoran's grip tightened. She wasn't his Sakura, but seeing her reminded him that he still had a choice to make.

Suddenly, both Kurogane and Fai turned. Syaoran whirled around to see a tall woman in elaborate robes heading toward them on the bridge. "Kurogane. You've returned."

"Yeah. A while ago."

The woman slowed as she reached their side of the bridge, studying them. Syaoran stepped closer to Kurogane, unsure whether to regard this finely-dressed woman as a threat or an ally. Eventually, the woman looked back at Kurogane. "It seems I have missed much in my preoccupation." She smiled. "In any case, welcome, all of you. I'm sure my sister has already made this clear, but you are welcome to stay here as long as you need."

"Amaterasu," Kurogane said, his voice taking on a formal tone. The name rang a bell somewhere in Syaoran's mind, but he couldn't place it. "Is there a reason you're here?"

"Yes. We have another guest. Tomoyo," she called over her shoulder. A moment later, the Tsukiyomi appeared on the other side of the bridge, followed by a taller figure with sandy brown hair. With a jolt, Syaoran recognized the man. That's Fuuma! But what's he doing here?

"Fuuma!" Mokona squeaked, popping out of Fai's shirt and bouncing over to the man.

"Long time no see, huh? On the other hand," Fuuma said, cocking his head to the side, "I have no idea if your flow of time was anything like mine, so it's hard to say."

"Did Fuuma come to the country of Nihon looking for some object?" Mokona asked as the group reached the sakura tree.

"Actually, I came to deliver something."

For the first time, Syaoran noticed the canvas sack Fuuma had slung over his shoulder. Half his height, with the diameter of a coffee can, the cylindrical package looked bulky. As Fuuma untied the top and let the bag fall away, however, Syaoran sucked in a sharp breath. Is that an arm in a jar?

"What's that supposed to be?" Kurogane growled. Surprised by his tone, Syaoran looked over at him. An arm, he thought as the pieces clicked together. It's a replacement arm. But why would Yuuko have sent something like this?

"Call it a prosthetic arm," Fuuma said. "There wasn't time to pretty it up with skin. In other words, sorry it's naked. Still . . ." Something flashed across his face, as if he was daring Kurogane to disagree with whatever he was about to say. "I think you're going to need it."

"What are you bringing it here for?" An undercurrent of suspicion wove through the ninja's voice. "And how did you know about all of this, anyway?"

"Yuuko-san told me everything." Fuuma grinned. "I've been working on this little arrangement since Tokyo."

That long? Syaoran thought, bewildered. But Kurogane hadn't even been injured then! It occurred to him that Yuuko had a team of dreamseers from different worlds watching the future for her, but even with that, the logistics of predicting something so accurately . . . It would only make sense if the dreamseer had a special interest in Kurogane. His eyes flickered to Tomoyo's face. Had she been the one to tell Yuuko of this?

"I got it from a highly developed world," Fuuma went on, gesturing to the prosthetic arm. "Perhaps you've been there. It's called Piffle World."

So it was Tomoyo, Syaoran thought as Kurogane's eyes snapped to the Tsukiyomi. A look of wary resignation flickered across his face. "What's your price?"

Fuuma chuckled. "I've already received my reward. Yuuko-san paid my fees, and I get to keep traveling."

"Well, I haven't given anything to the witch," Kurogane grumbled. And then his body went rigid, head swiveling as he looked around the circle. When his eyes fell on Fai, the magician gave him a pained smile.

"For Ceres," Fai said softly, then addressed the group. "I've given my promise to pay Yuuko-san. I did it after we first arrived."

Pay with what? Syaoran wondered as the wizard stepped back. He lifted one pale hand in front of his face, fingers twitching. Glowing blue runes formed at his fingertips, stirring the air around him. The casual display of magic startled Syaoran enough to make him jump back; the last time he'd seen Fai use his magic had been in Ceres, when he and Kurogane had fought. The magic dissipated suddenly, and a bright blue crystal fell into Fai's palm. What is that?

"Fai's eye turned gold!" Mokona cried from Fuuma's shoulders. Everyone in the group glanced up at once, all trying to get a look at Fai's eye. No longer blue, the color hovered between gold and amber, and his pupil had turned from a circle to a slit. The eye of a vampire.

"The blue color of my eyes was the source of my magic," Fai explained, smiling despite the horrified looks of everyone in the group. "That is my payment. Mokona, if you would please deliver this for me . . ."

"But . . . But . . ."

"It's all right," Fai assured them. "I can see perfectly well. This was . . . the last of my magical power."

"No!" Mokona squeaked. "If Fai loses his power—"

"I won't die, even if I give this away. My vampire blood will keep me alive." His eye rested for a moment on Kurogane's face, and suddenly, Syaoran felt like an interloper, eavesdropping on a conversation he didn't belong in. He shuffled back, cheeks warming. With the bond necessitated by Fai's diet, the two of them had a connection Syaoran could never hope to have with Kurogane. He could do nothing to change that, and he certainly didn't want to make either of them suffer by eliminating that bond, but it still made him uncomfortable.

"I won't hand over anything that amounts to giving my life away," Fai said, pausing so that his smile touched every face in the crowd. "Not anymore."

Syaoran forced a smile as Mokona inhaled the crystal containing Fai's magic. Fuuma stepped forward, handing the cylindrical tank to Kurogane. "It should attach itself to your body if you just hold it in place, but I imagine you're going to want some privacy." Fuuma shuddered. "Not to sound squeamish, but watching the machinery integrate with your nervous system isn't really high on my list of priorities, so I'll be heading back inside." He bowed his head and started down the bridge, leaning back slightly while he walked, as if reclining against an invisible wall. Amaterasu followed, pausing only for a quick word with Tomoyo before she departed. The Tsukiyomi lingered a moment more, then grabbed Mokona off the bridge's railing and carried her inside.

"Well, I guess Fuuma-san has a point," Fai said, stepping back. "I'll just leave you two alone."

Kurogane caught his arm before he could slip away. "Thank you."

Syaoran fidgeted, suppressing the rush of jealousy bubbling up inside him. You should be glad they're getting along again, he told himself. That's what you wanted. You wanted things to be better. You wanted everyone to be happy.

As Fai walked away, Syaoran lifted his head to look at Kurogane. "Will you need any help?"

The ninja hesitated, eyebrows slanting. "Maybe," he admitted. "Sit down. We don't know how long this is going to take."

They sat on a bed of sakura petals. Kurogane studied the prosthetic arm, his expression intent. Instructions had been written on the side of the tube in three different languages, none of which Syaoran could read, but Fuuma's instructions had been simple enough. When Kurogane made no move to unscrew the top of the tube, Syaoran spoke. "Is something wrong?"

"No. I'm trying to figure it out, that's all."

Syaoran frowned, trying to understand the edge in his voice. When he did, he almost squeaked in shock. He's afraid. Syaoran laid his hand on the ninja's good shoulder, unsure how to comfort the man without implying that he could sense Kurogane's worry. "Do you want me to—"

"No."

He winced, pulling away and wrapping his arms around his knees. "Should I leave?"

At this, Kurogane met his eyes. The irritation drained out of his face, leaving behind something like guilt. "No. But I don't really want you to look."

"Oh." He frowned. "Why not?"

The ninja eyed the prosthetic arm with a mix of unease and embarrassment. "Everyone else left. No one wants to watch me put that thing on. It's like watching someone put on lotion or something. It's creepy."

Syaoran blushed, looking down. "I think we're past that point in our relationship."

"Yeah, I guess," Kurogane muttered after a minute. "Well, let's get to it, then."