Fic: Ever After (8.3)
Title: Ever After
Characters/Pairings: KuroFai, AshFai, SyaoSaku and DoumWataHima(ish?) Basically, anything implied (or outright stated in recent chapters of the manga with some pairings) in CLAMP canon that my mind stumbles across.
Rating: T
Summary: ‘Fairytale’ is a very trying place. Children get abandoned; loves fall under evil spells, and various members of royal families get abducted on an almost regular basis. Even with a witch on-hand all ills can’t simply be wished away - but then, if it’s really the ‘happy ever after’ you’re looking for, it’s quite obligatory to start with ‘once upon a time…’ AU, with heavy reference to canon.
A/N: Third and final part of this chapter. For those who read the second chapter as soon as it was uploaded you may want to go read it again - I added two new scenes onto the end there.
First part here.
Second part here.
He was standing in the garden at night, fireflies around him brighter than the stars overhead. (At least there were stars this time.) The pendant Syaoran had given to him, that the brunet had said had been a gift from the Zashiki-warashi, was warm around his throat, the glowing insects drawn to it, to him, circling him in rings of light.
Watanuki tasted smoke on the air and turned, unsurprised to see Doumeki’s grandfather sitting on Yuuko’s porch again, the tip of his cigarette a red ember in the darkness.
“Doumeki-san,” Watanuki bowed his head slightly, in deference to his companion’s age. He hoped that Doumeki was the man’s family name, that this Doumeki was the paternal grandfather of the bird-Doumeki he was (sadly) growing accustomed to in his daily - awake - life.
“Call me Haruka, my given name.” ‘Haruka’ smiled, exhaling another mouthful of smoke, a haze that the fireflies darted through, drawing patterns in the wispy air. “It would be confusing otherwise, hm?”
Watanuki smiled back at him. “Haruka-san, why am I dreaming of you?” And then he remembered the man’s words of their previous discussion. “Why are we here together?”
A pause as Haruka took another drag of his cigarette. “Perhaps you wished to speak with me?”
Watanuki went to take a seat at the man’s side, kneeling down in the traditional pose, hands flat and relaxed against his thighs. “I’m not sure what it is I want to talk about,” he admitted.
“Then talk about whatever you feel like.” Another exhalation of smoke into the air, soothing in its regularity. “I don’t mind.”
So Watanuki talked about whatever came to mind, and Haruka listened. And in the morning, strangely content, Watanuki woke up.
#
“Fai!!”
The call was a delighted one, golden as the lazy sunbeams that slid in through the room’s windows, catching strands of long gold as they trailed behind their mistress, Chii flinging herself at her beloved Fai the moment he stepped through the doors, her words a babble of happiness and joy.
“Chii,” Fai instinctively caught the waif-like cat-girl, arms sliding safely around Chii’s delicate waist as she spun her own around his neck, pulling his head down so she could affectionately rub his cheek against her own, cat ears tickling slightly where they touched skin. He breathed in, his eyes slipping closed, familiarising himself with her warmth, the smile in her voice, everything that he’d based the child in his arms upon. He shifted his head to the side, kissing her forehead fondly. “Chii.”
“Fai never said he was coming home!” From any other person those words would’ve been a rebuke, but with Chii there was no scolding, only delight at a wonderful surprise, happiness that her beloved was with her.
“Indeed, he didn’t…” A new voice joined the discussion, smoother, black the same shade as a raven's wing, like the sweep of hair about a familiar pale face - Ashura-ou. The faerie’s lips were curved slightly, a gentle smile, his eyes - such a dark gold - looking at the brighter golden pair in the room before him, the beautiful children.
“It was a whim of the moment,” Fai spoke against Chii’s hair, but his eyes were locked with his king’s. “My apologies for the lack of warning before my arrival.”
“You need never apologise for coming home.” Ashura’s steps were light, quick, his touch gentle as he brushed the back of one hand over the cheek Chii wasn’t nuzzled under, smiling a little more softly when Fai dropped his eyes, assuming the action was prompted by guilt, subservience, bashfulness.
“This…” Fai couldn’t meet the faerie’s eyes then, his hold tightening on Chii defensively, automatically, the girl looking up at him, wide eyes reflecting her concern. “Ashura-ou, this isn’t ‘home’.”
Something flickered across Ashura’s expression then, but since no-one was looking at him, no-one caught it, too focused on Fai, the butterfly caught against the glass. “…Time passes quickly; the year of your bonding with that thing you currently live with will be over soon enough, and Yuui will be well and with us once more. That will be home then, won’t it? What you’ve always wanted?”
“That is…what I have always wanted.” The words seemed difficult to find, even as Fai carefully began unwinding himself from Chii, realising how closely he was clutching the girl, using her as a safety blanket against a mental concern.
Freed from Fai’s hold Chii remained pressed against her creator’s side, letting out the soft ‘chii’ sound that had given her her name. Her smile, when she looked up at Fai again, was hopefully innocent. “Fai will come home then, won’t he? With Yuui? Chii would like to meet Yuui - will Yuui like Chii?”
“Yuui will love Chii,” Fai assured the girl, pleased when the response to his words was a beam, a flash of white teeth.
“Chii,” Ashura laid a hand upon the girl’s head, smiling genially down at her when she looked at him curiously, “why don’t you go make some hot chocolate in the kitchen to welcome Fai home? I’m sure he’d like a treat after his journey.” Chii brightened at the suggestion, immediately scampering off and leaving the two males alone.
Fai slanted his eyes at his guardian, dropping slightly tentative words into the air. “…It’s rather warm for hot chocolate.”
“I’m sure you’ll drink it regardless.” Ashura took the boy’s face in his hands, leaning down to place a kiss on Fai’s lips - but the child shifted, the kiss landing on the corner of Fai’s mouth instead. Ashura withdrew a little, contemplative. “…Your sweet tooth is the one thing about you that never changes.” Everything else, however, apparently did.
Fai got cooler every visit, the smile the boy had worn since he was eleven having slipped away to slit its own throat in the shadows somewhere. Ashura couldn’t think what caused it save physical distance; the boy had always been cold somewhere inside of himself, detached, but rarely had it showed on the surface so much. It couldn’t be the one Fai had engaged himself to. Though the silver ring on Fai’s finger gleamed brightly no answering glitter could ever be drawn from the blond’s heart - Ashura had tried; Chii had tried, and still Fai danced through life like a doll, uncaring of exactly where it was he placed his feet. It had suited Fai to be affectionate before and Ashura-ou could see no reason why that suit should have changed -
“…I shouldn’t have come here.” Fai’s eyes were blue, rimmed with shadow as he looked up at Ashura-ou for a flickering instant, and then straight past the Faerie King.
Ashura pitied the boy - pitied him and loved him, his own heart aching at the hurt Fai felt. What he would do for this child… “Where else would you have gone?”
“I could’ve stayed -”
Ashura’s fingers dug just a little harder into the skin of Fai’s face, a tiny amount of extra pressure. “With the wolf?” The faerie’s tone was blank. “When he’s forced you out so many times already?”
Despite himself, Fai found himself leaping to his fiancé’s defence. “Kuro-chan didn’t -”
“Fai…” Ashura kissed him again, a brush of lips against his temple. It was a soothing gesture, but Fai’s heart quickened, a sudden mad flutter of bird’s wings in his chest. He didn’t - Ashura - “My Fai…don’t you know what it is he’s done?” Fai didn’t want to know. He didn’t - he didn’t - “He’s the one who took Yuui away - my curse is what turned him into a wolf.”
It had been Kurogane-? Fai’s stomach lurched then suddenly, heaved, and he thought he was going to be sick for a moment, stumbling back one step, two, pieces clicking together in his mind and leaving uncomfortable truths that clogged his throat, stole his breath. Kurogane - Kurogane - Kurogane -
Kuro-sama, Kuro-chan, Kuro-wanko knew, damn him, damn him, damn him, about the past, about Yuui, red eyes sharp and clear and knowing -
“Why?” Fai hated the sound of his own voice then, trembling, one of his hands against the wall for support, his hair in his eyes so that everything was all shadows and gold. There had to be a reason - Kurogane was so, so, so predictable in many ways, and to kidnap an enchanted youth and steal him away to places unknown didn’t mesh with the honourable, growly person Fai had come to know, a broken mirror whose shards had got mixed up with pieces of a shattered vase.
“I don’t know.” Ashura was honest then, calm - how long had he known? Fai didn’t know why the faerie had kept such a thing a secret; didn’t know why Ashura hadn’t kept such a thing a secret; didn’t know what to think right now, something burning and aching uncomfortably in his chest. Why had Ashura told him? Why had Ashura told him now? Didn’t Ashura trust Kurogane near Fai? Did Ashura not trust Fai near Kurogane? (The years kept away from others were sharp reminders then, slivers that dug into his already bleeding mind.)
“I…” Fai drew a breath, lost it, licked his lips and summoned forth will again. “I’m going to go help Chii in the kitchen.” Ashura caught his sleeve as he went past - Fai looked at him, blue against darkened gold. “Please let me go.”
Ashura let him go and Fai went to the kitchen, forcing another smile to meet Chii as she bustled about there. She was pleased to see him, as always, abandoning the hot chocolate to cuddle against Fai once more, soft and warm and Chii.
Her words were quiet. “Chii really misses Fai when Fai is gone.”
Fai smiled at the girl, beckoning her a little closer and petting her on the head. Chii snuggled into him further with a contented sound. Fai’s eyes were warm. “I miss you too, Chii.”
“Does Fai really have to go again?”
“I made a promise…” And he tried to keep his promises, when he made them sincerely. (He didn’t make sincere promises often.)
“But -” Chii struggled a little with any form of rebuttal against her precious Fai, “but Chii is worried about Fai.” She plucked at his left hand, threading her fingers with his so that his engagement ring glittered, the light picking out the tiny runes it was inscribed with. “Fai still hasn’t seen the one he’s living with properly?” Fai had told Ashura-ou that his fiancé adopted a different form at night-time, but he’d never thought Chii had been listening - “When Kuro-chan is not a wolf?” Apparently she’d picked up his usage of nicknames, too.
Fai looked at their joined hands, mildly curious as to where his pet was going with this. “It worries you that I haven’t seen him at night-time?”
“Chii is worried about Fai,” the girl repeated simply. “Fai doesn’t know who Kuro-chan is.”
Fai strongly doubted Kurogane knew who Fai really was either - but then, Yuui - “What does Chii want me to do about it?”
Chii was sweet, and innocent, and completely ignorant to just how very demanding her request was, failing to understand the impact of her words and letting them trip out from her delicate throat, pressing a candle into Fai’s surprised hands. “Look at him.”
#
They made an amusing pair, the bristling boy and the impassive eagle - by everyone else’s standards, anyway. Watanuki preferred not to think of Doumeki and himself in the same sentence never mind the same general physical vicinity, taking great pleasure in each stomp he took as he stormed along in high dudgeon, Doumeki flying from tree-branch to tree-branch to always keep just a little ahead of his companion, in Watanuki’s sights (if the youth ever purposefully looked at him) and able to spot any problems that could potentially be coming up.
“Oi.” The eagle spoke; Watanuki ignored him. “Oi.”
“My name,” Watanuki hissed, refusing to look up at the golden bird overhead, “is not ‘oi’.”
Doumeki, in turn, ignored the other’s complaint. “This way is fey territory.” They’d been travelling straight from Yuuko’s shop for about an hour, Watanuki having begged a little free time from his duties (which Yuuko had sworn he’d make up again) to…go ahead and do some personal little mission of his own. Doumeki had tagged along with him (much to Watanuki’s dismay), the eagle having noted the human teen had taken neither the Mokona nor the kudakitsune with him.
Watanuki grouched, wishing very much he was alone. “This is the Enchanted Forest.” Stupid Doumeki. “Nearly everywhere is fey territory.” Stupid never-ending forest, as well. But Himawari-chan had said she’d seen the clearing this way, so this was the way he was going. (Himawari wouldn’t have gotten it wrong - it had to be Doumeki’s presence that was making the journey seem so long.)
“Some fey are worse than others.” Doumeki didn’t try to stop Watanuki, knowing that the youth wouldn’t understand him - or want to understand him, either. He’d seen the light that had come into Watanuki’s eyes when Himawari had mentioned seeing a clearing full of silver flowers from her tower the week before, a certain stubborn set in the spastic teen’s shoulder when the girl had sighed something about never being able to see one up close. Doumeki had known what Watanuki was planning almost immediately - it had just been a question of timing.
So there they were, the two of them, heading for the glade of silver flowers. It grew dimmer the closer they got to the clearing, the air becoming still. After a little while a strange fog appeared, hanging between the trees perpetually at utter odds to the summer day, tree-trunks damp with beads of chilly moisture.
It grew dimmer again as they kept moving, greyer, harder to see. The canopy was a vague shadow looming overhead, the distance an unknown, the ground lost in heavy curls of slow fog. Watanuki felt vaguely like he was floating - he would’ve believed he was, but he could hear the crunch and snap of twigs as his feet hit the ground. As for the terrible, nauseating miasma that hung about…
It really, to put it bluntly, gave Watanuki the creeps.
“Oi,” Doumeki spoke suddenly after a long period of silence, and Watanuki jumped like a startled cat. (He made a noise that sounded like one too.)
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!!”
Doumeki found it unnecessary to point out he’d been beside Watanuki the whole time, so there was really very little sneaking involved.
“You should be apologising to me, the great Watanuki-sama, for the trauma that is caused by your very presence!!” Right. “You, you who are not fit to - listen to me when I’m talking to you, you stupid bird!!”
Doumeki pulled away the wing he’d been using to cover his head and muffle Watanuki’s ranting when he saw the black-haired youth had paused his tirade. “Oi -”
“How many times do I have to tell you, you jerk?! My name is not ‘oi’!”
Again, Doumeki ignored him. “Are you going to continue on this way?”
Watanuki raised his chin resolutely, as if defying the eagle to stop him. “Yes.”
They went on together again. The fog grew denser, thicker, and everything was shadow. Strange off-white ropes hung down from the branches overhead that glistened sickly when Watanuki drew close to them - he reached out a hand to touch one, but Doumeki stopped him, beating his outstretched limb away with one strong wing.
“Don’t touch them.” He didn’t say why but Watanuki listened to him for a change (and if Doumeki ever brought the fact up that he’d paid attention to one he called a jerk on a frequent basis he was never going to admit that it was because the eagle’s golden wings were the brightest things in this strange part of the forest, almost glowing in the gloom).
They went on again, Watanuki keeping an eye out for the flowers Himawari had spoke of and avoiding the ropes that hung around them, weird loops and strings that grew more and more prominent the further they went, nets of the substance everywhere.
And then Watanuki saw the flowers.
They were silver, like Himawari had said, large, with wide petals and blood-red stigmas and filaments. They grew together in clumps of about three or four, gleaming oddly and almost…wetly from between the ropes and strings of the substance Doumeki had warned Watanuki not to touch.
Watanuki leaned in to pick one - carefully, carefully, taking pains not to touch the glistening ropes that surrounded it - and as soon as he’d snapped the stem free the flower in his hand began to scream.
It was a dying shriek, painfully loud and high, startling Watanuki so much the youth stumbled back, still holding the screaming flower, colliding with a net of the rope behind him, becoming tangled and snarled in sticky bonds.
Doumeki flew down to tear him out immediately, batting aside Watanuki’s flailing hands (that only served to get him more entangled) and ripping into the strands with his sharp beak. There was a strange chittering, chattering in the distance, in the fog around them, the sound of soft feet on twigs, on the soil, clicks and snips that became all the more audible as the flower’s shriek finally began to quieten.
Free of the bonds, the ropes, the net, the web Watanuki stood, yanking off the last of the sticky strands that clung to his clothes and skin, not given the chance to glance around him into the fog before Doumeki was butting him in the back, shoving Watanuki into a stumbling run back the way they had came.
Watanuki was a fast runner - escaping from spirits in Nihon had given him a lot of practice when he’d been younger -, his old instincts kicking in as he pumped his legs into motion, trying to avoid tripping over his feet or tree roots as he ran and ran and ran, escaping the noises behind him, the strange fog, the foul miasma. Doumeki flew at his side, golden feathers aglow and that was good in so many ways as it seemed like the bird gave light to see, it was bad, oh bad because the bird was so easily visible -
Watanuki and Doumeki burst out of the fog safe, unscathed, into the summer sunshine, but they kept up their fast speed for quite a while, stopping only when Watanuki staggered to a halt, leaning against a tree as he panted, Doumeki taking refuge on a branch above.
Behind them, in the fog, the chittering things seethed after the thieves, the destroyers, black eyes hot and angry as the legions came before them, telling them of what the intruders had done, of the golden bird they’d seen and the black-haired boy.
A grudge was born.
#
Yuuko was reclining in her garden when the portal opened beside her, her dark green kimono tied with its over-elaborate bow at the front, hem slashed far too high and revealing her pale legs.
“Ashura…” she wasn’t really surprised to see the Faerie Regent on the other side, raising her cup of sake (ever on-hand) to her lips and taking a sip. Truthfully, she’d been expecting to be contacted a lot sooner.
“Yuuko-san.” Ashura looked as lovely as always, strings of beads in their hair and hanging from their ears rattling as they moved slightly. (Ashura accepted being called by either gender usually, but Yuuko preferred to leave off all honorifics, neutral. Since it was Yuuko, and it was unwise to vex the witch, it was allowed.) The faerie didn’t look happy. “I trust you know the reason behind my call?”
Yuuko only smiled. “…How strange of you to not send Doumeki-kun to see me, so that we could talk through the crest you have him wear.” The fey preferred to flaunt their power aesthetically when they could; Doumeki’s crest was just one way of showing off, talking between parties many miles apart without the use of new spells being drawn into the air. Crafting a new portal each time was, for the fey, considered rather inelegant, but when needs must…
“My messenger is currently absent at this time.” Ashura’s lips were a thin line, golden eyes serious. “As no doubt is your apprentice.”
“Those events do tend to correlate, don’t they?” Yuuko’s smile turned satisfied. “Doumeki-kun paid his price of time in servitude; it is only fair he gains his return eventually.”
“Equal trade, Yuuko-san - I know how your business works.”
“Which is why,” Yuuko returned, “you must pay the price if you wish to ask me questions about your father.”
“I will send more wine as soon as Doumeki returns to Court - the nectar from the World Tree, three lanterns full.” That was enough to rejuvenate at least twenty faeries, keep them magically safe and strong. The nectar from the World Tree, obtained only once a year, was part of what kept the fey alive for so very long.
Yuuko finished the last of her drink. “That is acceptable.”
“My father’s favourite…has left for the home I have given him?”
“That is where Fai-ouji resides, for the most part.” Syaoran was always forthcoming with his tales when he returned to the shop. “He occasionally leaves to visit Ashura-ou.”
“…But my father is alone in his house, for the most part?”
“With the magical creature Fai-ouji made, yes.”
“…Why does he not return to Court, then? Surely there is nothing for him there?”
“Ah…” Yuuko met Ashura’s gaze directly then, red and gold. Her expression was pitying, clearly seeing the almost lost look haunting the faerie. “Have you ever thought of it more of a case that is not what is not there for him, but what would be there for him were he somewhere else?”
The Faerie Regent frowned a little, following the subtleties the witch was suggesting. “…Yuuko-san, what is it exactly that you are telling me?”
Yuuko told the child directly, in return for the price, and Ashura immediately cut the connection between them as soon as it was done, the portal shattering in the air.
The garden was painfully quiet after that.
#
It took a fortnight for Fai to finally return to the house beside the waterfall, Kurogane noting the mage sitting in the garden when he looked out of the window one morning, a bunch of flowers in his hand as he looked up at the clouds overhead.
Kurogane didn’t say anything to him, but he went downstairs and opened the front door, sitting on the step until such a time as his estranged fiancé would finally come back down to earth. They stayed like that for over an hour - silent.
And then Fai spoke. “…Does Kuro-chan know the name of these flowers?” He gestured to the blooms he held loosely in his grasp, an invitation for his companion to come a little closer to see them better. “Where I came from they were called Myosotis, but they have a more common name now.”
Kurogane came closer, inspecting the flora. He’d trained himself to recognise different plant life, finding the skill useful as a shinobi. Many plants could be used in potions and poisons, and it was important to be able to tell helpful plants from dangerous ones.
“…Forget-me-nots,” he said rather blandly, eventually, not needing the colour of the petals to be able to identify them. “The maiden’s flower.”
“For remembrance between lovers,” Fai chided gently, “something that is common to both genders. For fidelity and enduring love as long as the petals hold their hue - and with forget-me-nots, that can be a terribly long time.” He held the flowers a little closer. “I picked these myself, as I came here.”
Kurogane only blinked once at that - he’d assumed the mage’s absent lover had given them to him. “Then go put them into a vase,” he said brusquely, “before they wilt.”
Fai stood then, and went into the house, searching out a vase. Kurogane followed him in, unsurprised to hear the blond’s exclamation when he entered the kitchen to fill the vase with water, Fai catching sight of the dishes that had been left near the sink.
“Kuro-sama is such a dirty doggy!” Kurogane was unrepentant, trotting after the other and sitting just inside the room, listening to Fai make a soft ‘hyuu’ at the mound. “…At least he didn’t starve whilst I was away.”
“I cooked at night-time,” the wolf said in response, “and ate what I’d made the following day.” It wasn’t like he was a complete failure in the kitchen - it had just always made much more sense to let Fai cook during the daytime hours, as the blond had hands, and could see then. Although he’d had fingers at night, cooking in the darkness had been a horrible ordeal.
Fai clapped his hands. “Uwaaa~, Kuro-wanko is such a clever doggy!”
Kurogane huffed and lay down, resting his head on his paws as the other bustled about, putting the forget-me-nots in their vase on the kitchen table and tidying up some of the mess in the kitchen. “Only in comparison to you, idiot.”
“Kuro-rin is calling me names again…”
“You’ve never stopped calling me names since we first met!!”
“It’s because Kuro-pon is so fun to play with~.” Fai laughed, and it sounded more…real than it usually did, a strange bubbling that echoed in the previously quiet house, filling it with a brightness that simply hadn’t been there when the blond had been gone. The mage suddenly crouched, on-level with his fiancé, his tone almost fond. “Such a grouchy puppy.”
After the first week, Kurogane hadn’t really expected Fai to return to the house. He’d been planning on waiting a month before (reluctantly) returning to see the witch again, but then…here was Fai, speaking his usual nonsense, smiling his smiles framed by pale hair that had got even longer whilst he’d been away (and made the mage look even more like a girl).
“Kuro-sama must,” Fai said, stretching out a hand and laying it on the wolf’s neck during his companion’s silence, idly smoothing down the spiky fur there, “come from a place where there is very little need for words, because his eyes seem to say everything for him.” Never mind that his own did too; Fai shielded his eyes with his fringe and his smile, disarming pointed glances sent his way with his shatterglass mask. “If I…had something precious, Kuro-sama would be the one I’d trust with it, to look after it, to protect it.”
Honesty. Kurogane could hear it sound in the mage’s voice, an odd chime when the blond was sober and the light still shone outside the house. Did the man know-?
Fai went on, looking up properly, meeting the wolf’s gaze with the most directness he’d ever managed. “Kuro-sama seems like the sort who always does everything with the very best of intentions, to the best of his ability.”
Kurogane didn’t quite know what it was Fai was searching for in his expression. “I attack to defend what I hold dear, mage. And since what I defend is precious, I always give it my all.”
Fai smiled again, sweetly, patting Kurogane on the head and standing. “We could all do with taking a lesson from Kuro-chan then, ne?” He went back to tidying the kitchen.
Kurogane remained sitting, watching him, but neither of them spoke again.
#
Maru and Moro were drawing Yuuko’s long hair up into an elaborate up-style when Watanuki brought the traditional tray of drinks and snacks out to the garden, Maru armed with long ornamental hairpins that looked far too sharp to be going anywhere near the head, Moro with a decorative green butterfly she was fixing just above her mistress’ right ear, to match the woman’s kimono.
“Watanuki brought the snacks~!” The white Mokona trilled as soon as Watanuki came into view, bounding over happily to hop up onto the boy’s shoulder and snuggle in a shameless attempt at begging for treats.
“At last…” the black Mokona brought a cup of sake to the complaining Yuuko as the witch couldn’t currently move too far, trapped in place whilst her attendants worked on her. “I was dying.”
“I left you snacks for whilst I was out,” Watanuki defended, assuming his usual kneeling position at the low table in the garden as he poured out more sake for the babbling Mokona, “enough to last normal people a few days!”
“There wasn’t that much…” The black Mokona pouted.
“There were five bottles of sake! And another four in storage!! And all the fish I’d prepared for tomorrow!”
“But Mokona was huuuungryyyyy.”
The white Mokona joined in. “Watanuki is mean and wants Mokona to staaaaarve.”
“Mean Watanuki!” Her partner echoed her, bouncing on Watanuki’s left.
“Mean, mean, mean!” His partner in turn echoed him, bouncing on Watanuki’s right.
Watanuki flailed and tried to leap for both of them, only managing to land on his face on the grass with both Mokona bouncing on his head and back.
“Mean, mean, meeeeaaaan~!!”
“I’m not mean!”
Maru and Moro finally finished doing Yuuko’s hair, settling down on either side of their mistress and giggling as they watched the Mokona torment Watanuki.
Yuuko downed her drink. “Watanuki, did you get what you set out to achieve this morning?”
“Yes,” Watanuki shoved the Mokona off of him, shaking a fist at them when they only laughed, hopping over to the tray of snacks to help themselves, “I got a flower from a glade about an hour from here…it’s the silver one in the vase in the kitchen.”
Yuuko frowned at him slightly. “…Who told you about that glade?”
“Himawari-chan,” Watanuki sighed, already dreaming of his darling’s smiling face when he brought her the gift he’d fetched. She’d be so delighted -
“…Ah.” There was a slight pause. “Did Doumeki-kun go with you?”
“He wouldn’t leave me alone,” Watanuki immediately complained, “the stupid jerk. And he’ll probably demand some impossible type of food for the privilege as well. See if I make it for him - the great Watanuki-sama has better things to do with his time than cater to the whims of a gluttonous bird -” Yuuko suddenly seized Watanuki’s chin with one hand, holding his head in place as she searched his face. “…Yuuko-san?”
The woman released him again. “Watanuki-kun -”
“Yuuko-san?” The black-haired youth repeated.
“We need more snacks,” the witch finished, watching her employee face-fault.
“What?!” Watanuki flailed and looked to the table, only to see the Mokona waving up at him and offering him their empty plates. “You greedy -”
“More snacks, Watanuki!” Maru cheered.
Moro chimed in “More snacks!”
“Mush, mush!” The Mokona added, each taking up a perch on one of Yuuko’s shoulders as the witch shooed her apprentice away, back to the kitchen.
Their laughter followed Watanuki indoors.
#
Kurogane was so honest Fai found himself trusting the wolf, even though it was stupid to trust and even stupider to take some relief from that trust, his mind relaxing itself quite without his own consent, trusting Kurogane and his honest, honest, honest red eyes.
He hadn’t wanted to come back to the house beside the waterfall, not at first. He hadn’t wanted to stay with Chii or Ashura-ou either, his mind tumbling about trying to make sense of things, trying to mesh the information Ashura had given him with the conclusions he’d drawn himself already, unable somehow to think of Kurogane as some foul thing that he could really, truly hate because - because it was Kurogane, and as vexing as the wolf could be, he was too straightforward, too open, too…too Kurogane to ever match up to Fai’s image of the bastard who had taken his brother. (Kurogane could, of course, also be a bastard (Fai was missing some of his hair still), but it was of an entirely different sort to the image of the dark kidnapper Fai had painted in his mind.) If Kurogane had taken Yuui - yes, if - then…Fai trusted - slowly, reluctantly, Fai trusted - that he hadn’t taken Yuui to do anything untoward, with any bad intentions.
When those thoughts had become clear in his mind Fai had felt pressed to return to his home with the wolf - and the thought that yes, somehow, the house beside the waterfall had become ‘home’ was not as distressing as it could have been, warmed with memories of teasing the ever-grouchy Kuro-wanko, Syaoran’s determination in his lessons, the summer breeze, the smell of cake baking as they ate together, telling stories, the waterfall’s rumble beside them. That was home.
This was home, in the darkness of their room at night, with Kurogane tired out from his exercises and asleep, a comforting presence instead of an aggressive one. Fai lay on his side of the bed, still awake, still thinking, turning over old conversations with Kurogane in his head. Under his pillow was the candle Chii had given him, the girl’s concerns at the back of his thoughts.
‘Look at him,’ she’d said, because he didn’t know Kurogane and Kurogane knew a little more of him. ‘Look at him’ and know him, trust him that little bit more, satisfy the curiosity that had always pushed up within him, to find out what Kurogane hid in the darkness.
‘Look at him’ and Fai sought out the candle despite himself, drawing a swift, shining sigil in the black that lit the wick, the flame golden and bright and casting a pool of light around the bed.
And then, for the first time, Fai properly looked at Kurogane.
Kurogane was devastatingly handsome, along the traditional lines of tall, dark and undeniably sweet on the eyes. The face - strong, proud - matched the rumbling tones Fai had heard for the past six (it had to be six) months perfectly, the man broad of build and tall, taller than Fai, probably. He looked like the warrior Fai had always assumed him to be, someone suited to a sword in his hands, something to defend at his back.
His hair was black and spiky, the same shade as his fur had been when he’d been a wolf. A few strands flopped over his forehead almost endearingly, pointing to his nose, his firm mouth turned down in a slight frown, lips parted in sleep. Slumber softened the expression to something that was quite charming, Kurogane’s brow relaxed, peaceful, the man undoubtedly on-guard even in his dreams.
Fai smiled, softly, more tenderly than he himself realised, liking the expression, liking the warm coil of genuine affection that curled through him contentedly, the more shadowy purr of attraction behind it, twining through his thoughts and arching up his throat, stretching to the end of his fingertips.
Kurogane was all hard edges cut by candlelight - shadowed, lit, dark, hot, the burning lick of melting wax sliding down Fai’s hand, something golden-bright and intangible in the moment, the quiet, the still.
And then Kurogane woke up.
His eyes were red, blood-red, catching the flame’s light and glowing. Fai almost dropped the candle he held in shock when his bedmate moved, a great cat trying to dive out of sight -
Blue magic bound him, familiar writing written into the air that clamped around Kurogane’s limbs, locking the shinobi in place no matter how he kicked or struggled.
Kurogane looked furious. “Mage-!” the bonds tightened around him, digging into his skin, glowing brighter, brighter -
“I’m not doing it!” Fai protested, setting down the candle, his stomach churning because he recognised that magic, that aura, and stretched out a hand, weaving his own spell to counter that which was building in the air, even as he closed his eyes to the light that was blinding -
Too late. The light vanished as if it had never been, and when Fai opened his eyes again, blinking away the blue spots that haunted his vision, he was quite, quite alone on the bed.
Kurogane had gone.
A/N: Urgh…for various reasons, writing this chapter killed me. So please to be putting those pitchforks down some of you have picked up. I can see youuuu. *flails*
Note to self: invest in yet another notebook so that you can write EA work in one, and other TRC stories in another. This way, you are less likely to be typing up scenes for the story only to realise, about three pages in, that you are referring to Fai as a ‘she’, and it’s completely the wrong story. Whoops. >>
And now, if any of you need me, I’ll be in my safety bunker.