Chapter One-Hundred Thirty

"Would you marry me?"

The words rang hollow in Kurogane's ears, like the distant chime of bells. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the question. Marry him? Marriage? Him and me? Together?

It took him almost a minute to recover and convince himself that the kid had really just used the words marry me in a sentence that involved the two of them. Honestly, what was he thinking? They couldn't get married even if they wanted to. Or could they? Kurogane frowned, puzzling over the idea. They certainly couldn't get married in Nihon, and unless the kid's world was very open about this sort of relationship, they probably couldn't get married there. And even if they could find a world where such a marriage would be permissible, why would the kid want to? Kurogane had never been married himself, but he was pretty sure it marked the end of all good things in a relationship.

But your parents got married, and they still loved each other. The thought wiggled into his mind like a parasite. But his parents had to be the exception. Most married people he knew danced on the edge of murdering each other over petty arguments.

"It's okay if you don't want to," the boy said, the words coming out in a rush. "I don't want to pressure you, and I know it's . . . unusual. I just thought . . ." He trailed off.

"Gods, just give me a second to think about it," Kurogane complained. "It's a big question."

They lapsed into silence. After a few minutes, Kurogane loosened his hold on the kid to take the reins in both hands, pushing their speed to a near-gallop to match his racing mind. His thoughts trailed off in a dozen different directions as they rode. Finally, frustrated, he yanked the reins, pulling their horse to a stop. The animal snorted in annoyance as Kurogane dropped out of the saddle and began walking down the path, too fast for the kid to keep up on foot. After a few seconds, he heard the clopping of hooves behind him as the kid took the reins and urged the horse onward. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm thinking."

"I'm sorry."

"What the hell for?"

"For . . . I don't know. For upsetting you."

Kurogane scowled up at him, noting with some annoyance that, on horseback, the kid was now two heads higher than him. "Get down from there."

"I won't be able to keep up with you on foot."

He stopped in the middle of the path, waiting for the kid to dismount. Awkwardly, Syaoran pulled the horse to a stop and clambered out of the saddle, his face red. "Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. Jeez . . ."

The kid didn't seem to know how to respond to that, so Kurogane started walking again, ranting as he did so. "Why do you always think you have something to apologize for? What have you ever done wrong? Who the hell screwed you up so bad that you think you need to apologize every time you open your mouth?"

Syaoran gaped at him. "I . . Does it bother you that I apologize?"

"Yes." He grit his teeth, wishing he couldn't see the hurt swimming in the kid's eyes. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but it's like you don't trust me to love you when you screw up. You apologize like you think I'm going to abandon you if you don't, and you worry over every little thing like it's the end of the world. It isn't. It just fucking isn't. I'm not going to stop loving you. I can't. I don't know how, damn it, because somehow you wormed your way into my life and now I love you. I love you despite your problems, despite the fact that you apologize every five minutes, which, incidentally, is more annoying than the things you do that you apologize for. So." He let out a sharp breath, then breathed in. "So that's all."

Syaoran looked down. "I didn't realize it bothered you so much."

"They don't bother me when you have a good reason for apologizing. I just wish you didn't think you have so much to apologize for."

"Sometimes, when I apologize, I don't even know why I'm doing it," the kid said softly, hesitantly. "It wasn't always like that. I blamed myself for a lot of things that couldn't have been avoided, especially for the things the rest of you faced in Tokyo. I was convinced that if I'd only arrived a few minutes earlier, things might have turned out so much better. But the problem wasn't that I didn't get there in time, it was that I couldn't. And I thought . . ." His breathing hitched, the barest hint of a tremor reverberating through his voice. "I thought that it was worse to be incapable of making something better than not doing it. I thought that if I'd been stronger, or quicker, or more clever, I might have been able to change something, but I wasn't, and I . . ."

"You were helpless to make things right, even though you did everything in your power to change it." He rested a hand on the kid's shoulder, relieved when the boy seemed to relax. "I used to think the same way—that if I could just be strong enough, I wouldn't ever have to worry about losing the things that were important to me. And you know what? I became so focused on getting stronger that I lost track of what really mattered. By the time Tomoyo sent me away, I'd already lost everything, all because I was too blind to realize I'd let all the important things slip away." He paused, thinking. "Souma said something like that. About how I never let myself feel. Huh."

"When did that change?" the boy asked. "When did you start feeling again?"

He felt his eyebrows lift in surprise, then frowned. When had he started caring about his traveling companions? He figured he'd cared about them enough by the time they'd reached Outo, but had it started before that? He distinctly remembered not giving a damn about any of them in the first couple worlds they visited. But then again, he remembered worrying about the princess when she'd been kidnapped in Jade, and he remembered the relief he'd felt when he'd pulled the other kid out of the frozen river after that castle had crumbled. "I don't know. Guess everyone sort of grew on me."

"Then . . . when did you start caring about me specifically?"

"Do we have to get into this? Isn't it enough that I care now?"

The boy looked away. "I'd like to know for sure."

Kurogane thought about it for a minute. "Tokyo."

The boy's shoulders stiffened. "Tokyo?" he repeated hoarsely. "That long?"

"Surprised?" Without waiting for an answer, he swept on. "Look, kid, maybe I didn't fall in love with you in a day, but you acted pretty goddamn self-sacrificing in Tokyo. And you looked miserable all the time. Even I had trouble not pitying you."

"And it wasn't . . . it wasn't because I looked like him?"

Kurogane rolled his eyes. "Believe me, the resemblance wasn't doing you any favors." Sighing, he ruffled the kid's hair with his mechanical hand. Syaoran's eyelids fluttered closed as he bowed his head to accommodate the touch. Within seconds, he'd melted into Kurogane's arms. "What? What is it?"

"You." The kid mumbled it, pressing his forehead against Kurogane's chest.

"What about me?"

"You. I want to be with you."

Kurogane frowned, uncomprehending. "Yeah, I figured that much out."

"No!" The kid stepped back, sliding out of his grasp. "You don't understand. I want to be with you. You, instead of Sakura. I don't . . . I've never . . ." He sucked in a sharp breath, and Kurogane's stomach flipped as his mind processed the words. "I never thought I'd want anything more than I wanted her to love me. But . . . if I have to choose between you and her, I'd rather be with you. That's why I want you to marry me."

Kurogane blinked slowly, time stretching like taffy around him. He's choosing me? Me? Over the princess?

"It's not easy," the kid went on, wringing his hands together, "and this relationship does have its flaws. We each have our flaws. I apologize too much, and sometimes you get so angry that it frightens me, but . . . it's worth it." The last words were soft, fervent. "I'm willing to bear the worst of it if I can have the things that make me love you. Is it . . . Is it the same for you?"

Belatedly, he realized he'd expected the kid to choose the princess; for months, he'd seen it as the only possible outcome, had braced himself for it, thinking it was inevitable. It had never crossed his mind that the kid would choose him. And now, now, what could he do except say yes? The good and the bad, he thought. The very best and the very worst. It's not such a bad trade. He stood taller. "Yes. It's the same for me."

A small smile touched the kid's lips, growing into a joyous grin that lit up his eyes. When the boy's arms circled around his shoulders, Kurogane pulled him close, pressing his mouth to the side of his neck. What does it say about me, Kurogane wondered, that I never thought he'd choose me?

He decided it didn't matter. If the kid would take him, flaws and all, then that must have meant his issues weren't as vast and grim as he'd thought. Or, if they were, then other people didn't see them in the same dark light that he did.

"Kurogane-san?"

He glanced down. "Yeah?"

The boy hesitated, then squared his shoulders. "There's no one else I'd rather have watching over me than you."

The words touched a part of his heart that he'd long believed dormant. He ran his fingertips down the kid's neck, lowering his face so their foreheads touched. "It's going to be all right. No matter what happens when we face our enemy, I won't let you die." Not even if it costs me my life, he thought. And he meant it.