Chapter One-Hundred Thirty-Two

Kurogane returned to his room to find Tomoyo waiting outside his door. As soon as he saw her, he bowed his head. "Tsukiyomi," he greeted her, bracing himself. He wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but the fact that she'd made the effort to intercept him, rather than just summoning him, suggested that he was in trouble.

"Kurogane." Her voice was level. He risked a glance at her face, but her expression was carefully neutral. "May we speak privately?"

Crap. What the hell did I do? "Of course."

Freeing one delicate hand from her cumbersome sleeves, Tomoyo opened the door to Kurogane's room and stepped inside. Wary, he followed. "Close to door behind you," Tomoyo said. "This may be a rather sensitive conversation."

"If I'm about to get reamed, I want to know what I've done."

The princess sighed softly. "You're not in any trouble, Kurogane. Sit down, please."

Closing the door, he unhooked the clasps holding his helmet in place and set it on the floor next to his bedroll. His armor followed, coming off in pieces as he untied the laces binding the joints together. It was improper to address the Tsukiyomi in full battle gear except during wartime, and if she had a problem with something he'd done, he didn't want to make it worse by showing disrespect, particularly after how much effort he'd spent trying to get back into her good graces. Tomoyo circled the room, frowning slightly as her fingertips brushed the wall. "You have very little in the way of decoration. I'd have thought even you would be more sentimental."

He bristled. "It's not like I'm going to be spending a bunch of time here. I have to get going soon."

"I did not mean that as a rebuke." Suddenly, a soft smile dawned on her face. "I appreciate your simple tastes—you give yourself nothing to hide behind. It reminds me why I chose you for my personal guard."

The compliment surprised him, and he felt his wariness slipping away. "Yeah, well . . . What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Several things. But I suspect you wish to speak to me about something first." She paused, regarding him evenly.

After a moment of thought, he spoke. "The day Suwa burned," he began carefully, "you showed up after I'd slaughtered all the demons."

"That's right."

"Why?"

"Because in my dreams, I saw someone who needed help." She approached, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. "A boy hardly five years older than myself, grieving, hurt, and alone. Of course I came to help."

"Not because you wanted to keep me out of our enemy's hands?"

Her expression hardened. "If you think I would intervene only to keep a valuable warrior out of enemy hands, then you have misjudged me terribly."

He watched her face, searching for any hint of deceit. He was relieved to find none. "I had to be sure. I had to hear it from you, face-to-face."

Tomoyo exhaled softly. "I will admit, I had anticipated this conversation going quite differently. But dreams change, don't they?" She looked away, a shadow falling across her face, then refocused her attention on him. "In another version of this time, under different circumstances, I would have visited you last night, when you were feeling reflective and certain rather than tense and worried. In another time, another dream, you would have answered the door before I knocked and I would have smiled over the fact that I could never sneak up on you without the aid of magic." She sighed, smiling fondly, and shook her head. "How dreams change."

Studying her in the pale light filtering through the walls, Kurogane tried to understand. Before he could guess at what she meant, however, she went on. "Fei-Wang Reed could never have taken you as his pawn, whether or not I'd intervened. Even if he had, I doubt you would've taken anybody's orders."

"I take your orders," he pointed out.

"Only when it suits you."

A pause. "You wouldn't want it any other way, and you know it."

A tinkling laugh escaped her lips. Quickly, she lifted a hand to stifle it. "No, I suppose not. In the end, you never did anything but what you decided to do for yourself."

He felt the corners of his lips pull up. "No, I didn't."

Returning his smile, she changed the topic. "Did he ask you?"

"Did who ask what?"

"Syaoran-kun, of course," Tomoyo said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Before I gave up my dreamwalking abilities, I saw two futures. In one, Syaoran-kun married Sakura-hime. In the other, he married you. So . . . did he ask you yet?"

The topic of marriage alone would have been enough to make his spine go rigid. With Tomoyo's words, a cold, yawning pit opened up in his stomach. Two futures, he thought, slowly rising to his feet as the implications of that sunk in. Only two.

"I have to go." His voice sounded hoarse, distant.

Puzzlement flickered through Tomoyo's eyes. "Go?"

He stood. "I have to go see him."

"You were just with him half an hour ago."

"Yeah, and now I have to go see him." He yanked the door open.

"But I have a sword for you!" Tomoyo called as he rushed into the hallway. He paused just long enough to respond.

"I'll get it when I come back."

"Oh, by the sun and moon," she muttered as Kurogane hurried down the hallway. His heart pounded in his chest. Two futures, both bound by marriage. Of course it wasn't a hypothetical question, he berated himself, feeling like a fool. The boy wouldn't have brought it if he didn't mean it.

Figuring the kid would still be getting his bandages changed, Kurogane stopped by the medical wing first, walking straight to the room the boy had occupied since he'd fought Seishirou. The door was open a crack, which he took for an invitation, but when he peered inside, the bedroll was empty.

"He just left," a familiar voice said as the door opened wider. Kurogane looked down to see the apothecary who'd treated his arm after they'd left the mage's world.

"Where is he?"

The healer pointed. "He mentioned that he hadn't eaten since yesterday. Try the dining hall. And next time when you take him on an adventure, remember to feed him properly." Her voice rose as he walked toward the dining hall, but by then, he was hardly paying enough attention to understand her, let alone give a damn. He strode through the hallways, cursing the sheer size of the castle, until he reached the vast, open room attached to the kitchens.

Most of the tables were empty, although a few servants and noblemen—always keeping a distance from each other—dotted the benches. When he saw the kid sitting at a table near the edge of the room, he walked over and took the seat across from him.

"Is everything all right?" the boy asked, spinning his chopsticks in a bowl of noodles and lifting them to his mouth. A look of alarm passed over his face. "Is it time?"

It took Kurogane a second to understand the question. "No. The witch hasn't tried to call us yet." He hesitated, unsure how to tackle the question of marriage without startling the kid. Was he supposed to steer the conversation to their future together first? Hell, would he have to offer up some sort of gift? He'd seen married couples in other dimensions, and a lot of them wore trinkets given to them by their spouses, be it pendants or rings or weapons. There needs to be a guidebook on this sort of thing, he thought in frustration.

"Is there . . . something you want to say?" the boy asked, leaning forward.

"Yeah, about that . . ." He looked around. This was hardly the most romantic atmosphere, but . . . To hell with it. He's the one who wanted to know. "Do you want to get married?"

The kid lowered his chopsticks and slid his bowl off to the side. "Married?"

"Well . . . yeah, married. To me, I mean. Obviously. Not hypothetically, either, but actually, officially married. Do you want to?"

The boy opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "Yes." Moisture shone in his eyes. "Yes. More than anything. Yes."

"Good." Kurogane caught the kid's hands and cradled them in his own. "When?"

"Now."

He almost rolled his eyes. "Be a little more realistic."

Syaoran blinked, tilting his head to the side. "As soon as we find a world that will let us." He inhaled sharply, the moisture in his eyes threatening to spill over. "Do you really mean it? You'll marry me?"

"I'd do anything for you."

The kid stood, squeezing his hands and leaning forward so their faces were only inches apart. "Thank you." The first tears slipped out as his voice began to waver. "Thank you . . ."

Kurogane rose, maneuvering himself around the table and running his fingertips down the boy's cheek. On impulse, he said, "Let's go celebrate."

Syaoran nodded fiercely, and Kurogane changed his grip, towing him along with one hand as everyone in the dining hall stared at him like he'd lost his mind. Maybe I have, he thought. Only a crazy person would want to get married.

"Where are we going?" the boy asked.

He nearly said, My room. But Tomoyo might still be there, waiting for him. And besides, the guest rooms were nicer. "This way. Come on." He turned right, entering a corridor he'd seldom had occasion to pass through in his service to Tomoyo. At the end of it, he turned left, entering the area where visiting nobles stayed. Several of the rooms had been taken, as evidenced by their closed doors, but most remained available, showcasing luxurious furnishings and windows looking out over the gardens.

Kurogane stepped through one of the open doors, then closed it and turned to the boy, hands seeking out the sturdy muscle of his waist. Syaoran stepped closer, tilting his head back in invitation. Kurogane lifted his metal hand, running his fingertips down the front of the boy's robes as he pressed his lips to the kid's forehead. Syaoran's eyelids fluttered, his lashes batting the line of Kurogane's jaw. Their lips met, and a blistering rush of heat pulsed through his veins.

"What do you want to do to me?" the boy asked, his eyes warm, like honey layered over dark chocolate.

Kurogane leaned forward, letting his lips brush against the kid's ear. "I want to make love to you."