/falls to the floor and gently expires

[sweetjerry]

Story: Black cat, white mage - Part 8
Pairings: Kurogane/Fai, Sakura/Syaoran, Yukito/Touya, the usual suspects.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, angst, BLATANT FANSERVICE
Summary: A lost princess. A mage running away from his past. A crippled warrior doing his best to forget the man he used to be. And a young man carrying a terrible curse. All of them are inevitably drawn into an adventure where love might save them... or doom them.
Note: A pretty long part with lots of shit happening, because I'll do anything to avoid cleaning the apartment, yep. Anyway, PART EIGHT, in which Syaoran insults someone's mother, flashbacks happen, and real men know how to braid hair. Cut quote from "The Ballad of Reading Gaol" by Oscar Wilde.

***

Kurogane was just getting the fire started in the morning when Fai returned. He'd been gone when the warrior woke up, and Little Cat claimed she didn't know where he was. Kurogane had a creeping suspicion the girl had learned not to ask a lot of questions, because the mage sure wasn't big on answers.

However, it appeared as if Fai's disappearance had been caused by nothing more sinister than a bath. His hair hung in lank golden curtains around his face, still dripping, and damn him, he was holding his shirt in his hand. His bare upper body gleamed in the muted light, and small rivulets of water were tracing paths of fire over the pale skin. He seemed unaware of the cold that turned his breath to puffs of mist and caused the fine hairs on his arms to stand up, smiling faintly as he rubbed at his hair with a damp linen cloth.

He made a small 'oof'-sound when Kurogane hit him squarely in the chest with a rolled-up woolen blanket, looking up with a slightly bewildered look on his face. "Now, what was that good for, Kuro-currants?"

"You'll catch your death, walking around like that," the warrior grunted, turning his back on the mage under the pretense of unpacking some breakfast. "At least put it on until you're dry enough to wear clothes."

He refrained from adding that just because Fai had an absolutely perfect body he had no fucking reason to shamelessly flaunt it like that, because the man clearly had enough of an ego without Kurogane adding to it. But it bothered him more than he wanted to admit, the way it was rapidly becoming impossible to avoid looking at Fai; the way everything about him drew him in, making him want to know more; the way he couldn't forget that moment when Fai's eyes shone bluer than the sea, his skin so white that it looked like it glowed, so utterly alive in that brief moment of alarm...

Damn him. Damn the both of them. Damn Fai for reminding him of things he'd told himself that he didn't miss. And damn himself for allowing that blond ninny into his head, where he was already wreaking havoc of years of discipline and self-imposed exile.

And damn Fai again for being everything he hadn't been, everything Kurogane had loved him for not being. Because Fai was obnoxious and talked a lot and smiled even when he didn't mean it and was frightened of something all the time. He was brittle and impulsive and flighty and fickle. He was a complete stranger in a way he never had been and still...

And still he fascinated Kurogane in the exact same way.

It wasn't so strange, really, he told himself firmly. He'd made sure to keep his distance from all possible sources of temptation, and now suddenly fate had decided to more or less shove a beautiful man in his lap. It was just simple attraction fucking with his brain. And he would be strong enough to resist it, because what kind of sad shit would it make him if he couldn't?

He turned around to glare at the mage, only to find that he'd wrapped the heavy blanket around his slender frame and was smiling at him. "Thank you, Kuro-plum," he said, his voice as soft as always. "It really was a bit chilly."

Kurogane rolled his eyes, fighting back a sudden and horrifying impulse to smile and turning it into a grimace instead. "Yeah, well, if you're dumb enough to go have a bath at this time of year..." he muttered.

Fai wrinkled his nose. "Please do tell me you don't stop bathing during the winters, Kuro-toffee," he said, wringing out his dripping hair. "If you really do, I'll remember to walk upwind from you from now on."

"Of course I don't, you idiot. But I bathe indoors like all normal people." He scowled half-heartedly as Fai sat down in front of the fire and started to quickly but rather sloppily braid his hair. "You're doing that all wrong," he added.

"Hmm?" Fai looked up, stopping what he was doing to look at Kurogane in surprise.

"If you braid it like that, it'll come right out again," Kurogane replied, giving Fai's braid a scornful look. "No wonder you look like a kitchen maid just out of the hay loft."

"Ah, no, that would be my hair. It's a bit tricky, you see." Fai twined a golden tress around his finger, smiling.

"A man don't blame his hair for his own failure," Kurogane said flatly. Fai stared at him, as if trying to decide if he was serious or not, and then threw back his head and laughed.

"My, but you do live after an interesting philosophy, Kuro-sugar," he said, eyes dancing with amusement. "But very well then." He grabbed his half-done braid and held it out theatrically to Kurogane. "Teach me everything, oh master."

Kurogane stiffened, because he really hadn't counted on Fai doing that. And now he was trapped, because there was no way of backing out of this without losing face utterly. With an exasperated grunt he sat down, grabbing Fai's hair and quickly undoing the braid. Then he yanked rather forcefully at it, causing Fai to yelp loudly. "Turn around so I can do it properly, you idiot."

"Ow, Kuro-creamy! Don't pull my hair out, please!" But he did turn around obediently, even leaning his head back a bit to give Kurogane a better angle. "So, how did you learn how to braid properly then, Kuro-honey?" he asked lightly after a few seconds. The warrior stopped what he was doing for a moment, staring down at the fair hair coiling around his fingers, remembering. He remembered his own hands, a boy's hands, untried and soft, braiding dark brown hair. And later a young man's hands, hardened by battle, but there were still two of them, and now the hair between his fingers was black, and as soft and beautiful as moonlit silk...

"My father," he said curtly, because Fai only needed to hear half the truth. "My mother braided his hair so it wouldn't get in his way when he worked. She taught me."

"Is that customary in Nihon?" Fai asked, turning his head to look at him. Kurogane gave his hair another admonishing tug, and he turned back with a small, affronted noise. Truth to be told, it was more difficult than he had figured, doing this with only one hand. But he'd be damned if he let the mage know that.

"Yeah. She kept her own hair braided the same way she always had too. Pissed off the other people in the village to no end, but my dad was the best blacksmith they'd ever had there, so there wasn't much they could do 'bout it."

"A captain who became a blacksmith?" Fai mused, sounding surprised.

"He was a blacksmith's apprentice before he joined the army," Kurogane replied proudly, because it was damn rare that a commoner got any higher than sergeant back in those days. "Wasn't very popular with the army after he left, though, since it was still wartime." He grimaced, not fond of saying anything that cast a shadow on his father's memory, but it was the truth. "I s'pose, technically, he didn't resign himself as much as he deserted. Except deserters are generally scum or cowards, and my father was neither. He had a reason."

"A very good reason," Fai agreed, turning once more with a dazzling smile and causing Kurogane to fumble with the leather twine he used to fasten the braid. Tying knots one-handed was always a bit of a problem, but at least with this he'd gotten a lot of practice.

"Stop moving about, you idiot," he muttered, pulling at the leather a bit to make sure it was secure and then letting go. "There. Now don't mess it up."

"Excuse me, Kuro-peach, but I thought you said it wouldn't mess up if you got to braid it properly," Fai said with a wink, starting to tie on that ridiculous velvet ribbon on the end of the braid.

"Well, knowing you-" Kurogane began, but was interrupted.

"Uhm," Little Cat said, looking up from where she'd been keeping watch over Syaoran, "sorry to interrupt you but... I think he's waking up."

~ * ~

When Syaoran woke up, Kurogane was kneeling right next to him. Little Cat and Fai were hovering behind him, both looking worried, but not nearly as worried as his stepfather, who was scowling down at him like he usually did whenever Syaoran managed to scare him senseless. He sat up gingerly, because after one of his episodes his head always pounded as if it was splitting open. Not this time, though. Strangely enough, he felt good, as if he'd had a long night's sleep and nothing more.

"How long was I out?" he mumbled, embarrassed that a couple of relative strangers had seen him rave deliriously for hours, since Kurogane had told him this was what usually happened whenever he had one of his fits. He could never remember what he'd said, but from the brief descriptions he'd had from his stepfather, it just sounded like crazy talk. He didn't want to look at Little Cat, because he didn't want to see her pitying him.

"All night," Kurogane told him gruffly. "It's morning now."

"All night?" Syaoran repeated weakly, glancing around him and finding that Kurogane was right. A red glow was spreading over the sky in the east, heralding the ascent of the sun, and that meant they should really be on their way already. At this time of year, you had to make do with the brief light you were given. "I... I'm sorry, I... Why? I've never been out that long before."

Kurogane shrugged. "Guess you fell asleep. The fever went down pretty quick this time." For some reason, he glanced over his shoulder at their travelling companions as he said this, but Syaoran wasn't really interested in finding out why. He was too angry.

"Then why didn't you wake me?" he demanded, glaring accusingly at his stepfather.

"Couldn't," the warrior replied flatly. "Figured you needed the sleep anyways. Relax, kid. You're awake now, ain't you?"

Syaoran didn't reply to this at all, but settled for glowering sullenly at the older man. Kurogane knew they were in danger the longer they stayed in one place, and that this was not the time to treat him like a sickly child. And Syaoran didn't buy that they'd been unable to wake him for a second. If Kurogane had wanted him to wake up, he would've dumped a mug of water in his face and thought no more of it.

"You did need that sleep," Fai suddenly intervened, smiling down at him. "What's the point of getting an early start only to have you collapse later while walking?" Without waiting for an answer, he crouched down next to Kurogane, watching Syaoran far too intently for comfort. "I hate to pry, but I really should ask you... do you remember anything at all from after you collapsed?"

Syaoran stared at him, taken aback, and then shrugged and looked away. "Nothing," he replied tonelessly. "I never do." Except for that feeling. The feeling of being two people at once, except one half of him wasn't... wasn't human. One half was just cold, horrible purpose, all compassion and kindness stripped away for the sake of the thing he was intended for, the unspeakable deed. But he couldn't speak of that.

For a moment, Fai's smile melted away, and he was looking at Syaoran as if he knew he was lying. It was terrifying, and he was relieved when Kurogane suddenly elbowed the outlaw in the ribs, forcing him to look away. "Tell him," he growled. "He has a right to know."

Fai sighed, once more smiling harmlessly. "I was going to. No need to be like that, Kuro-bun." He tilted his head, rocking back a bit on his heels. "Syaoran, I'm afraid I have to tell you that you appear to be under a curse."

The world around him went black. All there was, all he could ever imagine that there would be, was those far too bright green eyes looking at him, looking right through him, seeing what he was, giving away the truth about him. He heard Kurogane say, "Blondie here's a magician," but the words weren't important. He knew now why they hadn't bothered waking him, why they didn't mind that they were ready to leave and he wasn't.

"Just go," he said dully, starting to lie down again. "You don't have to... there's nothing you need to say. I get it. Just leave, please. I'll be fine." Silence followed his words, and as he glanced up he found them all staring down at him, shock written plainly on their faces. Hadn't they expected him to understand? The thought sparked the necessary indignation that was all it took to ignite all his pent up shame, all his frustration, all his bitter disappointment. Suddenly he was burning with anger. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair of them to make him wait for the rejection when he already knew it was coming, and how could they even for a second imagine that he didn't?

"Just leave already," he hissed, mouth twisting into a snarl, his words bending and coiling with the old street dialect he'd grown up with, like a last, helpless line of defence. "I ain't stupid. I was cursed by a Nihon witch, and there ain't no how you're gonna drag someone like that with you. So stop acting so fucking noble, like you ain't gonna leave me, and get lost."

In the silence that followed, Kurogane turned to Fai, his voice quite calm when he said, "What's he mean by 'witch'?"
Fai shrugged. "That's what superstitious people and puritans call their priestesses, as far as I understand it."

"I see." Then Kurogane turned back, reached out, and gave Syaoran a swift, hard smack right over the face.

The young man blinked, momentarily stunned. "I... what? What was that for?"

"That was for badmouthing my mother, you little pisser," his stepfather said calmly.

"Your... your mother?" Syaoran asked weakly, the momentum of his rage now completely lost.

"Yeah, my mother. She was a Nihon priestess, and she sure as all fuck wasn't no witch. Now, I'd like you to pull your head out of your own arse for a second and talk some damn sense. Why the hell are you acting like we're buggering off and leaving you?"

Syaoran just stared at Kurogane, who levelled a steady, 'I am waiting' sort of look at him in return. After a moment, he found his voice again. "You... you ain't leaving? But... but he just said...?" He looked wildly at Fai, who raised his eyebrows in return.

"Who, me?" He pointed at his own innocently smiling face, as if he wanted to be absolutely sure that Syaoran meant him. "I just said you appear to be under a curse. I never said we were going anywhere, as far as I'm aware. Personally, I've been subject to a lot of curses in my life, so I hardly think it would be fair of me to judge someone else because of it."

"But..." Syaoran protested. "My... my parents..."

Kurogane's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What about your parents, kid?"

"Well, they..." he floundered. "When they found out they... I mean they sent me away. I... I just figured..."

~ * ~

He barely remembered it happening. He remembered that she was beautiful, the witch, and that she somehow stood apart from the rest of the crowd around he. He'd wondered where she'd come from. He remembered her reaching out her hand toward him, her palm flat and white, not coarse and brown like his own hands, like his mother's hands. He didn't remember her saying anything, or shouting anything. He just remembered pain after that.

~ * ~

He remembered his parents taking him to a priest, to find out what was wrong with him. He was a kindly old man, and he started crying when he watched the shapes Syaoran's blood made in the bowl of water. He looked up, and he looked so old, as if hundreds of years had passed in an instant. "This child is cursed," he said. "He's cursed to one day kill the one he loves the most in this world."

He remembered his parents asking if there was anything they could do. The priest replied that only a Nihon witch could undo what had been done.

~ * ~

He remembered his father waking him up early in the morning, his face all strange, like a mask. There was nothing there; even his eyes were empty. He led Syaoran out into the chilly grey dawn, and mist clung to his skin and made drops of water in his hair. He shuddered, but wasn't given a coat.

He reached out to his mother when his father lifted him onto the back of their cart, but she flinched away from his touch, her face contorting with fear. He remembered looking down at his own hands then, and finding that he was afraid of them too. That was when he started crying, but there was no comfort to be had.

The last thing he remembered about his home was how suddenly his brother was running out the door, screaming his name, his eyes like dark holes in his face. His mother caught him around the waist and held him, and no matter how much he kicked and punched, she refused to let go. As the cart started rolling away, Syaoran considered jumping off and running away, but what would be the point if he couldn't go home?

"I'll find you!" his brother shouted, his voice and spirit broken as he hung limply in their mother's arms. "I'll find you!"

"Promise?" he called out, trying to dry away his tears.

"I promise!" his brother replied, and then turned his face away and wept.

~ * ~

He couldn't tell them about all of this. Not about the nature of the curse, because even now he wasn't sure they wouldn't leave him. Not about his mother's disgust and fear, because he wasn't going to cry. And not about the promise his brother had made to him, because he knew he was an idiot for still hoping he'd keep it.

But the rest all came out in a jumbled, pathetic rush of words, as he stared at his hands and tried to get his eyes to stop burning. He told them about how they hadn't wanted to take him to an orphanage, because what if he was given to some other parents? But they didn't dare to simply kill him, or leave him in the forest for the wolves; maybe they just couldn't bear the thought, or maybe they were just afraid of divine retribution. Whichever the reason, he was taken to the nearest city instead, and left in a gutter. With no money, nothing to fight with, and no knowledge of how to survive. Perhaps, in their minds, it wasn't as cruel as the wolves. Perhaps the thought had comforted them.
Perhaps, in time, even his brother had started believing them.

He kept his gaze down even after his words had run out, and he only looked up again at the sudden crash of splintering wood. Kurogane was standing up, his sword in hand, and in front of him the two halves of a young tree were slowly separating with a tortured creaking sound.

Sheathing his sword, Kurogane turned to look at his stepson, with a look of such hatred and revulsion twisting his face that Syaoran flinched away, bewildered and terrified; terrified that he was going to be left again, but also that this ripping feeling inside meant that his stepfather was the person he'd have to hurt. Just like he'd wondered, lying awake night after night, if he would've killed his brother if his parents hadn't driven him away.

And then, the strangest thing happened. Kurogane once more kneeled next to him, and for a brief moment he was pulled into a rough, awkward hug. It was over before he could even react, and in response to his shocked stare Kurogane just gave the back of his head a light smack before he stood up, not looking at Syaoran. "Have some breakfast, we're leaving. And try to leave something for the rest of us. We have a long day ahead." And with that, he stalked off, grabbing their water skins and muttering something about filling them.

Syaoran sat frozen where he was, unable to even heed to Kurogane's simple command. Without knowing it, he'd prepared himself all this time for this moment; for the time when he would be found out and left behind once more. And now, it turned out he'd waited for something that didn't even happen. It was like bracing himself for a blow that never landed, only a thousand times more disorienting. He didn't know if he should feel relieved that he wasn't going to be alone anymore, or horrified that the people around him weren't fleeing while they still could.

And then a couple of arms wrapped around him again, but this time the arms were slighter, the hug gentler. He got a faceful of hair which brought with it the mingled scents of apples, leather and something human and soft. "Don't worry," Little Cat said, her mouth right next to his ear. "It's not as if anyone of us is helpless." She leaned back, smiling brightly at him. "No matter what kind of curse you have on you, we'll be there to protect you. And if it should try to hurt us, we know how to defend ourselves. Don't we, Fai?" She turned to her father, who was still staring in the direction Kurogane had left.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, certainly." He smiled, and for a split second something happened to his eyes. Did they just for a moment change colour? It happened too fast for him to tell. "Don't worry. In my days I was quite powerful, I'll have you know. And I do believe Kuro-plum was too." He smiled, that cheerful, nothing-is-wrong smile that Syaoran couldn't make himself believe. "Now, you really should get ready to leave. If we don't get going soon, we won't reach Drottensburg by nightfall."

"See?" Little Cat stated contentedly, as Fai started to put out the fire. She pressed a piece of bread and some dried ham into his hand, and then held it for a few seconds before she let go. "I'm sure everything's going to be alright. Now, let's get the fuck out of here before moss starts growing on us, okay?"