Chapter One-Hundred Twenty-Six
Fai arrived in the medical wing minutes later, his smile barely hiding his worry. As he entered, Syaoran drew his blankets tighter around his body, grimacing. "Good afternoon," he mumbled as Fai slid the door closed. It shuddered in its frame as he moved it, cracked by Kurogane's hasty exit. At least he broke the door and not me, Syaoran thought, then felt guilty for thinking it.
"I passed Kuro-pin in the hall, and he looked a little angry. I thought you might need someone to talk to."
Syaoran appreciated the fact that Fai didn't say that he'd been worried for his safety, although that seemed obvious from the line of tension between his eyebrows. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Ah. All right then." Fai sat down next to his bedroll, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. He agreed so quickly, Syaoran thought, chest constricting. A part of him wanted to talk about it simply because Fai hadn't pushed him for information, but the thought of explaining the argument made his insides twist. "I can't believe I fell in love with such a coward," Kurogane had said, and up until today, Syaoran had never felt like one. But if Kurogane, who had spent the better part of his life fighting, wouldn't approve of his request, Fai certainly wouldn't.
"It's not that big of a deal," he said, hoping that Fai wouldn't hear the lie in his voice.
"Words can hurt," Fai said, nodding. "Often, they hurt more than physical wounds."
"I'm fine."
"Yes, I suppose you would be. So very little can shake you now—you've built walls against many painful things and accepted those pains that you cannot avoid. But that doesn't make you invulnerable." Fai touched his shoulder. "I think it might be better that way. If you can still be hurt by the people who love you, you know you're not so far gone that you can't feel joy as well."
Syaoran said nothing. He didn't know how to say that even thinking about joy felt like a betrayal after how angry he'd made Kurogane. He didn't know how to say that he wanted to be miserable. Kurogane was wrong, he thought. I don't deserve to be happy. He pressed his face against his knees, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "I don't know what to do."
"Give it a few hours. It'll take some time for Kuro-pyon to cool off, and he'll be a lot more rational when he does." Fai smiled. "He acts so childish sometimes. I don't think he understands how a relationship is supposed to work."
"It wasn't his fault. It was mine."
The smile fell off his lips. He met Syaoran's eyes. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"
"I . . . can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Won't," he said after a moment's hesitation.
"Did he hurt you?"
"I can't believe I fell in love with such a coward." Syaoran bit his lip. "Not physically."
"Emotionally, then?"
He nodded. "He . . . He was right to be angry. I wasn't being fair to him."
"In what way?"
Careful, he told himself. Think carefully before you say anything. "I . . . asked something of him that I had no right to ask for. It was selfish."
Fai studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Do you remember what happened in Ceres, when Fai"—he flinched as if saying the name caused him physical pain—"broke apart after giving up Sakura-chan's feather?"
Syaoran nodded. In truth, the memory probably would've given him nightmares had he not experienced so many other traumas lately.
"When that happened, I realized that I hadn't been keeping him alive for his sake, but my own. I'd deluded myself into believing that I was doing the right thing, holding him in suspended animation as I searched for a way to atone for the things I thought I'd done." He smiled bitterly. "Some of my memories from that time might have been spun by our enemy, but I think I'd have felt guilty even without those. I thought that once I got Fai back to normal, everything would be perfect. But . . . I realize now that keeping him in such a state wasn't right, or merciful. I'd kept him alive because he was supposed to be part of my perfect world. In all those years, I never thought that he might be happier if I let him rest, or if I did, I dismissed it. That's the one thing I regret most now. I was selfish for all that time, and now I have to live with it for the rest of my life—which, assuming we survive the next few days, could be a considerably long time."
"I . . . I see."
"My point is that it's better to acknowledge when you've done something wrong, rather than try to rationalize your mistakes. No one is infallible—you shouldn't hold yourself to that standard—but admitting fault when you've made a mistake is a mark of strength. I'm sure Kuro-rin will appreciate it if you acknowledge your part in the argument. Although . . ." Fai cocked his head to the side, "it's difficult to have an argument where one party is entirely at fault. Keep that in mind, as well."
Syaoran nodded. "That helps. Thank you."
"Good." Fai stood. "Is there anything else you need before I go?"
He shook his head.
"All right. Get some rest. You'll feel better in the morning."
Fai left. Syaoran laid back, wincing. He'd recovered enough that he didn't worry about ripping open his wounds, and the fiercest pains had faded to dull aches, but it still hurt to move. Hopefully Hinata would stop by with more tea soon. Until then, he would rest.
He must have fallen asleep quickly, because the next time he opened his eyes, darkness cloaked the room. Groggy, he lifted one arm to wipe the crust from his eyes. To his surprise, the movement didn't make him wince.
The scrape of boots on the floor made him turn his head. A shape loomed over him, a patch of deeper darkness in the shadowed room. Instinct had him scrambling backward. "Don't scream."
It wasn't the words but the voice that gave him pause. He sat up. "Kurogane-san?"
The figure moved, and his eyes zeroed in on the paler patch that was the ninja's face. His eyes gleamed like rubies in the dark. "Can you walk?"
Gingerly, he shifted one leg. A lingering stiffness made the movement hurt deep in his muscles. Still, he felt better than he'd expected to feel. Come to think of it, both of us have recovered from every injury we've had much more quickly than I would have thought. His eyebrows pinched together as he braced his palm against the floor and got to his feet.
"Figured Tomoyo would strengthen her restorative spells," Kurogane muttered.
"Huh?"
The ninja shrugged. "Every month, Tomoyo casts some restorative spells around the medical wing to aid healing. It's part of her job."
Syaoran blinked, comprehension coming slowly. "That's why you recovered so quickly after the roof collapsed on us. You should have had a concussion, but you were walking around hours after you woke up."
"Yeah, well . . ." Kurogane paused, his expression unreadable. "Come on. I want to show you something."
Why isn't he angry? Syaoran wondered, stepping gingerly across the threshold. Kurogane strode through the dark hallway, as silent as a shadow. Occasionally, he walked past a lantern, and his armor gleamed, catching the light and bending it into a dozen different colors. He didn't slow when Syaoran fell behind, only waited at the end of the hallway for him to catch up.
"Think you've recovered enough to ride a horse?"
A horse? How far are we going? "I think so."
"Good." Kurogane turned left, maintaining his brisk pace. Rather than heading to the guest rooms where Fai slept, the ninja led him down a narrow corridor to a door leading outside. It looked familiar, though it wasn't until Syaoran heard the hiss of running water that he recognized the path. He remembered taking this road to the hot springs shortly after Kurogane had healed enough to walk. Syaoran remembered wading into the water to help the ninja bathe.
It's so strange, he thought. Back then, everything seemed so much easier even though our circumstances were more grim. His eyes flickered to the branch in the path that led to the hot springs, but Kurogane walked past it without a word, leading him around a bend in the road.
"Keep your sword close," Kurogane told him. "We're heading into demon country."
"Is that a good idea?"
A moment of silence passed between them. When it deepened, Syaoran realized he would receive no answer. He'd have sighed if he hadn't already been winded from the walk. Despite Tomoyo's restorative magic, moving was difficult. When he saw a massive black horse tethered to a tree, he let out a relieved noise, and a tiny creature stirred atop the saddle, then bounced over to them, ears flopping. "Kurogane is taking Syaoran on a trip," Mokona told Syaoran, bouncing into his arms, "but Kurogane wants to go somewhere far away, so he's taking Mokona with to translate."
How far away? Syaoran wondered, patting Mokona's head before setting her back in the saddle.
"Souma let me borrow one of her swords," Kurogane told him, producing a simple blade with a leather grip. Its only adornment was a small etching at the base of the hilt, most likely the maker's mark. It was shorter than Souhi by several inches. "If any demons come after us, I can deal with them, but if you sense anything, don't ask questions, just get ready for a fight."
Syaoran repressed a shiver. He remembered the chitinous black creatures from the memories he'd seen in Recourt, and he had no interest in seeing them firsthand. He wrapped his hands around his arms, smoothing the hairs that had stood on end. Kurogane produced a thin blanket from the saddlebags and wrapped it around his shoulders. It surprised him that the ninja had thought to bring any comforts at all on this trip, and it made him wonder how long they'd be out. It can't be all that long. We'll have to be back in time to enter Clow Country.
As Kurogane gestured for him to climb into the saddle, Syaoran readjusted the blanket and pulled himself into place, his breathing growing labored at the effort. Mokona snuggled against his chest, and Syaoran moved to take the reins. He lowered his hands when Kurogane sat behind him, enveloping him with his arms as he gathered the reins in his fists. Without a word, he urged the horse to a trot.
"Where are we going?" Syaoran asked once he'd settled into the saddle. He could feel the heat of the ninja's body through the blanket, could feel the hard shell of Kurogane's armor pressing against his back. He'd have liked to attribute their closeness to intimacy, but he figured it was the most practical way for them to ride without bringing another horse along. And if he'd wanted intimacy, he'd have left Mokona behind.
Kurogane stayed silent until Syaoran decided he wasn't going to answer. They followed the path for several miles, at which point the trees gave way to terraced farms. The fields looked barren—he supposed it was too early in the year for anything to sprout. The blooming of the sakura trees was usually one of the first indicators of spring, so it would take the rest of the area awhile longer to catch up.
"Suwa," Kurogane said suddenly.
Syaoran's head snapped up. "What?"
"We're going to Suwa."