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It took nearly two weeks after their arrival in the country of Japan for Kurogane to open his eyes.
When they had arrived in the new world on Mokona’s wings, Fai had been nearly insensible with grief and panic, barely able to comprehend what was happening. All he knew was that he was alive, and Kurogane was dying. A situation that couldn’t be allowed. It was impossible, unthinkable. But there had been so much blood, and Kurogane was so still—it was all Fai could see. He had hardly even registered the arrival of the royal caravan until hands were lifting Kurogane away to be on a stretcher, and all he understood was that they were taking him away.
The only thing that stopped him from breaking was hands on his face, steering his gaze up to dark eyes in a face he knew from another world, and a quiet voice, firm with conviction:
Kurogane will not die.
The price had been paid, to travel to a world that would be safe. Kurogane had come home.
Princess Tomoyo had ordered that Fai should be allowed in the room where Kurogane slept at any time. He watched them clean and bandage Kurogane’s injuries; the horrific wound in his side, and the place where his arm was missing. It freshly ignited his terror to see the severity of the injuries, the worry in the doctors’ faces, but he held onto the words that Princess Tomoyo had spoken to him so tightly that they became a mantra. Kurogane will not die. Kurogane will not die.
He did not know at what point he’d lost consciousness, but when he awoke there was sun coming through the window and Mokona was asleep at his side. There were no doctors crowding around Kurogane’s bedside now, and the blood had been cleaned away. And Fai saw Kurogane’s chest rising and falling, breathing steadily.
That was when Fai began to cry.
The days following, it seemed that all Fai was capable of was to weep. He wept for King Ashura, who he had loved, who was lost to him forever. He wept for his brother, who he hadn’t killed and would not return to life. He wept for himself, who still lived despite his wretchedness. And he wept for Kurogane, who had not allowed Fai to be killed.
It had been so long since he shed tears that it felt like he had a well of them deeper than the reservoir in the country of Tokyo. There were no clear thoughts attached to his crying—the emotions that caused it were so vast and shattering that they couldn’t hold their forms. Mokona was with him much of the time, pressing her small body against him, promising she’d watch Kurogane if he slept, bringing him food he didn’t need to eat. Syaoran was there sometimes too, standing silently at the bedside with his fists clenched and head bowed, with quiet reports on the care of Sakura.
Sakura. Sakura made Fai weep too. His princess, who had never deserved the fate thrust upon her. He had been a part of the machinations that entrapped her. Syaoran and Mokona knew that now, but they didn’t look at Fai with blame in their faces.
Finally, he ran out of tears. And then he discovered there was nothing else inside of him. He watched with numb exhaustion as Kurogane’s bandages were changed, as the scent of fresh blood gradually lessened. Still, Kurogane did not stir, his expression untroubled in sleep. Fai remembered his face as he had raised his sword to cut his own arm off. The same determined scowl as he always wore, as if he simply meant to dispatch an obstacle, instead of mutilating his body permanently. There had been no hesitation as the sword descended to rob him of what mattered most to him: the means of displaying his strength. All in exchange for Fai’s life.
Why? Was he simply that stubborn? Was it the sunk cost of maintaining Fai’s life after he’d been transformed into a vampire? Or maybe it was Fai’s curse—not the ones laid on him by the sorcerer, but the real one, the one he’d been born with: the misfortune his existence caused, just by being around him. The harm he brought to those close to him.
He didn’t know. All he could feel was a dull ache.
Princess Tomoyo was in the room often, watching over Kurogane as Fai did. She hadn’t spoken to Fai, only acknowledging his presence with a small nod as she entered and exited. If he had room for experiencing any emotion, he was sure he would have felt gratitude. He hadn’t spoken a word since their arrival, as if the will to speak had deserted him along with everything else.
The princess always sat by the bedside, quietly watching Kurogane’s face. Her expression was tender, almost like a mother gazing upon her child. She belonged at his side. The person Kurogane cared for above all in all of the worlds. When she was in the room, it was the only time Fai, wedged in the corner alone, wanted to be out of it. He was intruding. He didn’t belong in Kurogane’s home, with Kurogane’s princess.
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Fai was alone today when the princess came into the room. She entered, nodding to Fai, and gracefully sat on the cushion placed next to the bed. Fai reached through the fog in his thoughts, sluggishly working to assess if he had the energy to leave. Where would he go? Mokona had insisted yesterday that he bathe; his own wounds were closing over. There was no need for that. Perhaps he could seek out where Sakura was resting. To visit his own princess.
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice.
“I’m sure you’ve realized it, but this is Kurogane’s own room in the castle,” said Princess Tomoyo.
Startled into looking, Fai saw that the princess had turned her gentle gaze onto him. He couldn’t hold it. “...Yes,” he said. His voice was a quiet rasp. It had been so long since his voice last sounded like this. Far away, in a dead land.
Princess Tomoyo smiled. “I understand that it is you I must thank for allowing him to return home.”
Fai’s stomach churned. He knew what she meant: the price he’d paid to the Dimension Witch. But in the end, had it mattered? Because of him, Kurogane was...
The Princess was watching him, and Fai knew she could tell his thoughts. It was almost laughable. Once, he’d been so adept at concealing his emotions. Or he had thought he was. Kurogane had seen right through him, and now so did his princess. Perhaps it was a trait common to all people of this country. “You have nothing to thank me for,” he said.
“I don’t believe that’s true,” said Princess Tomoyo softly. “Do you know why I sent Kurogane away?”
“To accompany Sakura on her journey,” said Fai. The same reason he’d been sent by the Sorcerer; Kurogane was the witch’s game piece. But he knew as he said it aloud that this wasn’t true. Kurogane had been forced on the journey, but followed no agenda save his own.
Tomoyo smiled faintly. “That was one reason, yes. One he didn’t know of. But I didn’t send him to satisfy a future I saw in dreams. I wouldn’t have, if it wasn’t what he needed.” She paused, her smile fading. “Kurogane could defeat anyone in this land. No one could face him in combat. Anyone who threatened me, he killed. Even if I had asked him not to. He sought strength, but the way he was...he could not have achieved it. I sent him away to learn the true meaning of strength.”
Fai thought of Kurogane at the beginning of their journey. Like Fai, he hadn’t wanted to involve himself, the only thing piquing his interest being the prospect of a fight. Fai hadn’t thought he was strong, then. He hadn’t thought much of him at all. An enemy. One easy to provoke, easy to keep away. Kurogane was skilled with a sword, but it wasn’t power that made a person strong. Fai knew that very well himself.
But Kurogane was strong, in a way Fai never had been. He was honest and straightforward. He didn’t waver. He understood the weight of every decision he made, and accepted it without complaint. “I think...” Fai said hesitantly, “He learned it.”
“Yes,” said Tomoyo, her gaze falling on Kurogane. “Syaoran-kun and little Mokona spoke to me of your journey. You’ve been through much together. Through those travels, Kurogane changed, didn’t he?”
“He changed because of the children,” said Fai.
Tomoyo’s eyes lifted, as if pinning him to the spot. “Not only them.”
Fai’s chest was tight. He couldn’t breathe. “No, he...” He hates me. He said it before. He hates people like me. If it weren’t for me...
“I never knew Kurogane to put the well-being of anyone besides myself above his own,” said Tomoyo. “But I saw him in my dreams, in that snowy land. His wound brought him close to death. My ward couldn’t protect him...” her voice trembled slightly. “I saw you and he trapped in the magic circle.”
Fai’s mind reeled as it clicked into place, his head snapping up to gape at her. “You told him?”
The princess’ hands folded in her lap. “I spoke to Kurogane’s heart. If it was his dearest wish for you to go together, I could tell him how to achieve it. His heart answered that it was. He made the decision himself.”
Fai discovered that astonishingly, impossibly, he still had tears left to shed. Grief welled up so suddenly it choked him, his shoulders hunching inward. Warmth encompassed his hands. Princess Tomoyo had risen to come kneel in front of him, taking his hands in her own.
“I am honoured,” she said quietly, “To have met those who Kurogane would use his strength to protect. Thank you for travelling alongside him, Fai-san.”
She continued holding his hands as for the second time since their arrival, she comforted him as he wept.
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Mokona came to Fai as he was sleeping; he woke to find her tucked in the crook of his arm, her ears brushing against the sleeves of the long garment he wore.
She woke when he moved to sit up, twisting her body around to look up at him. “Fai is awake?”
“Good morning,” he said. His voice wasn’t as rough from disuse as it had been before. It was strangely reassuring.
Mokona’s concerned expression turned to joy. “Fai is talking again! Mokona and Syaoran were so worried, we thought—“
“I’m sorry I worried you,” said Fai, trying a smile. It felt frail, but not brittle. “I’m all right now.”
Mokona looked up at him. It was a wonder to Fai that the intensity of her gaze could seem so great when she hardly seemed to open her eyes. “It’s okay to not be okay, too,” she said. “Fai was crying again earlier.”
“Yes,” said Fai quietly, stroking between her ears. “I suppose I was.”
“It’s a good thing, though. Mokona can tell that the sadness in Fai’s heart is a little bit smaller now.”
“Is it?” He couldn’t tell if it was. He still felt incredibly tired and sluggish, like everything was weighted down. But it didn’t feel impossible to reach out anymore, to communicate. A gap had been bridged.
“Uh-huh. Fai is sad about a lot of things. About King Ashura, and how Kurogane won’t wake up. Mokona and Syaoran are sad for those things, too.”
“You can’t be sad about King Ashura,” said Fai. “He tried to kill you all.”
Mokona shook her head. “Everyone is sad because Fai is sad,” she said. “You loved him a lot.”
Fai’s breath caught, and he cradled Mokona close to his body. “Thank you, Mokona.”
“Mokona loves Fai a lot too!” she said, hugging him back with her small arms. “But...Fai hasn’t eaten in a long time.”
A familiar revulsion gripped Fai. It had taken long for Kurogane to devise a way to make sure Fai slaked his vampire thirst for blood; first he insisted in that rough way of his, then demanded. But Fai knew as well as Kurogane did that Kurogane couldn’t force him. Then finally, unflinchingly, Kurogane did as Kurogane would. He opened a cut on his arm with his sword, the blood welling up like rich and fragrant wine, and levelled a bitter, taunting grin at Fai.
It’ll spill whether you drink it or not.
It was the only invitation callous enough for him to accept. How could he possibly take Kurogane’s blood now, when he lay so still and unmoving? “I can’t,” he whispered. “I...I can’t, he’s too weak—“
“Kurogane will be upset if Fai doesn’t eat,” said Mokona. There was a slight hesitation in her voice. It was a test, Fai realized with an ache in his chest. It wasn’t long ago that he would have said, good. Let him be upset. Make him hate Fai just a little more.
But...Kurogane had never hated him, had he? There had been a moment, in Celes, with Fai’s past laid bare before his companions, his status as an agent of their enemy—the man who had scattered Sakura’s feathers, who had killed Kurogane’s mother—and Kurogane had drawn his sword, his face more furious than Fai had ever seen it. It was what Fai had known all along, that he’d be despised for his betrayal, but the anguish he felt in that moment was nothing he could have prepared himself for.
And then Kurogane’s blade had pointed past him, at King Ashura.
I don’t care about your past, Kurogane had told him before, time and time again. Fai had taken it to mean that he was disinterested, or at best that they were pretty words from a man with no need for shame or secrets. But he truly meant it. He knew everything, and yet he’d chosen to save Fai. Because he wanted to. Kurogane only ever did as he wanted to. So, then...what did Fai want, now?
He wasn’t sure. There were still too many things inside of him, fractured thoughts and feelings floating in a murky haze. But there was one thought he knew the shape of: he didn’t want any more harm to come to Kurogane if he had the power to stop it.
Mokona was still waiting anxiously for his response. Fai smiled at her. “You’re right,” he said. “I wouldn’t like that.”
Mokona’s face lit up, her ears perking.
“But we’ll have to be careful,” said Fai. “He’s still not well. Let’s ask Princess Tomoyo about it.”
“Yeah!” said Mokona, snuggling up to him. “Mokona is so glad...”
She didn’t have to finish her thought. Fai knew.
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Princess Tomoyo arranged for one of her doctors to procure a safe amount of blood from Kurogane for Fai to drink. Some of the weight seeming to hold Fai down lessened, his thoughts coming clearer and sharper now. He took to going on walks through Shirasaki castle, sometimes accompanied by Mokona, and a few times, Princess Tomoyo.
Today he was by himself, and his wandering had brought him to the room where Princess Sakura rested, pale and lifeless. He entered, intending to sit with her a while, but paused as he saw Syaoran sitting at her bedside already, hands clenched on his knees. He looked over when he heard the door, and met Fai’s gaze.
There was a silence. Mokona was not present to fill the awkward gaps in their interactions. Syaoran was another puzzle Fai had been turning over in his mind the past few days; too often in their recent travels he had left this Syaoran to Kurogane, following Sakura’s example as another excuse to create distance between himself and their companions. And now, after everything in Celes, he didn’t know how to interact with the boy. Syaoran rarely sought him out and only with a purpose, seeming to spend much of his time training with the soldiers of the castle and consulting with the doctors and magicians overseeing Sakura’s care.
“Fai-san,” said Syaoran, by way of greeting. “You look well.”
He looked so serious and earnest. So like the boy they had lost in Tokyo. Even after these months of travelling, it made Fai’s heart ache. “Better than I was,” he said, making his way to the bedside. “And you?”
“I’m well,” he said, and hesitated. “Kurogane-san...?”
Fai’s smile slipped. There was a hopefulness in Syaoran’s eyes—he was truly worried for Kurogane. Maybe as worried as he was for Sakura. Did he hate Fai, for causing Kurogane so much pain? Before it would have seemed natural to Fai that he might. But he wasn’t sure now. “He hasn’t woken up yet,” he said quietly.
Syaoran nodded, and looked back to Sakura. Fai followed his gaze. The princess was unnaturally still, as if frozen in time, silk sheets draped around her as though she was a doll. “Soon they want to try bringing her somewhere with great spiritual power,” said Syaoran. “An ancient tree in the courtyard.”
“It might help,” said Fai. “If we can bring her body closer to where her spirit dwells.”
“In dreams,” Syaoran said, closing his eyes. He nodded. “We’ll get her back.”
“Of course,” said Fai, but it felt weak, inadequate. He knew, but the boy didn’t. This wasn’t his Sakura. But he’d care for her just the same if he knew, Fai was suddenly sure. “We will,” he said, and this time his voice was confident.
“Thank you,” said Syaoran.
There’s nothing to thank me for, was on the tip of Fai’s tongue, just like he’d said to Princess Tomoyo. He wasn’t certain what Syaoran was thanking him for precisely, but maybe he didn’t have to know. He nodded instead.
“When Kurogane-san wakes up...” Syaoran said hesitantly, still looking down at Sakura. He seemed to be struggling to speak, and Fai waited patiently. “Will he still...come with us?”
Ah.
This was not a question Fai had considered. Not consciously, at least, for now he found his mind filled with points and counter-points, like bubbles formed at the bottom of the ocean bursting to the surface. Of course Kurogane would come with them. He was too stubborn to give up now—but then, he had always been open about his goal, and it had never changed: to come home, and here he was. If he wanted to come Princess Tomoyo would give him leave to go, surely—but no, he’d only narrowly survived their last adventure, and it could only get more dangerous from now on. And his arm, his arm. He was crippled; he’d never fight at full strength again. What use was a warrior who couldn’t wield his weapon?
What use was a magician who wouldn’t use magic?
No clear consensus rose through his jumbled thoughts, and at last Fai simply said, “I don’t know.”
Syaoran’s shoulders squared, his hands clenched on top of his knees. “Will you?”
Another question Fai had not considered, but this time it was so unexpected it knocked all of the thoughts out of his head. “I—yes, of course.” What else would he do?
Syaoran was looking at him sharply. “If Kurogane-san was to stay here, would you still come?”
Fai blinked back at him, stunned. Then it hit him, and he smiled. “Ah, you mean, because he is my ‘game’? Don’t worry, I—“
“No,” said Syaoran. “Because he’s dear to you.”
If Fai felt off balance before, now he was reeling. “I—he’s not—“ he said helplessly. “Of course I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to,” said Syaoran. “I’ll understand. You were travelling to avoid going back to your land, weren’t you? But there’s no need for that now.”
Not having to continue on the journey? It was true—there was no more King Ashura to run from. No need to hide his magic, no need to flee from one world to the next. Could he stay here? In this land, with Kurogane? Would it be allowed? It seemed an impossible dream. No more fighting, no more running. Living in peace.
But...Sakura. His princess. And Syaoran, who was brave and kind and dedicated, and Mokona who loved them with all of her little heart. They were children, thrust into the cruel plot of an evil that went beyond them, whose grip extended across time and space itself. Nowhere would be safe until the sorcerer was defeated, his plans laid to rest.
The dream must end. And for that, Fai’s dream couldn’t begin. Was there a point in considering otherwise?
Syaoran must have seen the hesitation on his face, for he added, “Please, Fai-san. If it’s what you truly want, stay with him.”
What he wanted? When had that ever mattered? The only time he had thought he’d gotten as he wanted his twin was killed because of his choice, and he’d been wrong about that too.
It was the easy choice to continue with Syaoran, as he’d always done, without questioning. If Kurogane didn’t come along, Fai would be unable to feed from his blood, and would eventually die. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter, if they were to find the sorcerer. If they were to face such a formidable opponent with Fai’s weakened magical ability, he was nearly certain both of them wouldn’t survive, and if one of them did he would ensure it was Syaoran.
It was the choice he would have made before, easily. But it wasn’t what he wanted. He’d already decided that, after all. If he threw away his life again after everything that had happened... “I’ll stay with him,” he said out loud, “But I don’t think he’ll let you go alone. There’s no one more stubborn than him, after all.”
It was Syaoran’s turn to look surprised, his wide eyes making him look as young as he truly was. Then he smiled. “Yeah.”
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“Mokona, I’d like to speak to Yuuko-san alone, if that’s okay,” said Fai, sitting on a stone bench in one of the castle’s lavish gardens. There was a pond nearby with beautifully patterned fish swimming in it, and a willow tree’s leaves bloomed into a curtain around him.
“Sure!” chirped Mokona cheerfully. Fai was slightly surprised at her confidence; she couldn’t possibly know what he intended to ask the Dimension Witch, and past experience should dictate this was a concern.
A viewing portal was projected in the air in front of him as Mokona settled on his lap, dozing. On the other side he saw Yuuko lounging on her porch, the rumpled folds of her elaborate clothes lending her an air of careless grace as a pipe dangled from her fingers.
“Hello, Yuuko-san,” said Fai.
“I see you’ve arrived in the country of Japan,” said Yuuko.
“Thanks to you,” said Fai.
“It was your wish, and another’s,” she answered. “But I don’t think you called just to thank me.”
Fai closed his eye. “I have a wish.”
“Oh?”
“I want for Kurogane to be able to continue his journey with us.”
“Is there something stopping him?”
Fai opened his eye to look at her. She was gazing off into the distance, frowning. She must know. “He’s been badly wounded. He won’t be able to fight as he is now.”
She focused on him again. Her eyes seemed to pierce through him. “What price would you pay to achieve your wish?”
An odd smile tugged at Fai’s lips. “I can’t pay a price that I can’t live without.”
Yuuko nodded, smiling. “I see.” She inhaled from her pipe, and blew out a long stream of smoke that curled around her face. “What you wish is to restore Kurogane to how he was, then?”
“If it’s possible.”
“To restore exactly what he’s lost would require greater a price than what you’re willing to pay,” she said. “But there is something...”
Fai leaned forward, hardly daring to hope. “There’s a way?”
“Yes. You’ve visited some worlds with great technological advancements, haven’t you? On some of those worlds there exist artificial limbs, to replace ones that were lost.”
“It would work as well as a real arm?” said Fai.
“If it’s of good quality,” said Yuuko. “It would not be exactly the same as flesh and blood, but with it he could surely fight.”
“What do I have to give to get one?” said Fai, careful not to let his grip on Mokona tighten too much.
Yuuko considered. “You wish to return Kurogane’s ‘strength’ to him...that will require an equivalent ‘strength’ in exchange.”
“My magic,” said Fai. “The other half of my magic power. Will that be enough?”
“Yes, it is a sufficient price,” said Yuuko. “For that I can have the item delivered to you, and quickly. You need not pay me until you receive it. Are you certain you’re willing to give your magic up?”
“I am,” said Fai. He’d never been more certain of anything. “I don’t need it to survive. I won’t be defenceless with my vampire blood, either.”
“You know how unlikely it will be for you to return to how you were without your magic,” Yuuko said.
“It wasn’t my choice to become this way,” said Fai. “But it’s my choice to do this. I consider it returning the favor.”
“I see,” said Yuuko. She paused, watching him. “Have you decided what you will do when Kurogane awakes?”
He had, in fact. Fai had considered long and hard about what he would say, and what he would do. How he would treat Kurogane from now on. He wasn’t sure yet what exactly Kurogane was to him. He is dear to you, Syaoran had said, and the words fit the edges of the puzzle in Fai’s mind. Yes, Kurogane was dear to him. He was kind in his own way, reliable, clever, insightful, and dazzlingly strong. He was also stubborn, irritable, uncompromising, and impossible to understand. Yet somehow, when it was Kurogane, Fai found even these qualities strangely charming. He missed the silly arguments they used to have, before Tokyo. He missed teasing Kurogane, the looks of over-exaggerated annoyance on the other man’s face. He missed the conversations they’d had away from the children’s ears, the unspoken trust between them. Maybe, after everything that had happened, that bond would never be repaired. Or maybe it could be. It depended on both of them. All Fai could do was his own part.
“He always had a particular habit,” said Fai, “Of hitting someone on the head if they did something worrisome. I was thinking of doing the same to him. I’ll say, ‘That was payback, Kuro-sama!’”
Yuuko smiled, propping up her head on her hand. “So that’s your answer?”
Fai smiled back. “I’d say so.”
“Very good,” said Yuuko. “Then, I’ll be sending you an artificial arm. Give the others my regards.”
“Of course,” said Fai, and the connection was closed.
Mokona yawned. “Is Fai finished talking?” she said sleepily.
“Yes, we’re all done. Thank you, Mokona. Yuuko says hello.”
“Next time Mokona will say hello back!”
Fai smiled. “She said hello to Syaoran too. Will you go tell him?”
Mokona nodded. “Okay. Where will Fai go?”
“Oh, I think I’ll just go sit for a while,” he said. “He should be waking up soon, after all.”
“Yeah!” said Mokona, hopping up excitedly. “Kurogane’s got to stop being such a sleepyhead soon.”
“Mm-hmm,” said Fai. “I’ll have to scold him for being so lazy.”
Mokona was giggling as she hopped away, in search of Syaoran. Fai made his own way back towards Kurogane’s room. He paused as he arrived, sensing someone else’s presence inside. And unmistakably, the deep rumble of a familiar voice.
Fai’s heart leapt to his throat. Kurogane was awake.