/slinks in shyly
Story: A terrible thing to waste
Rating: PG?
Warning: Angst, god help me, and a tentative grasp of the characters at best. Oh, and uhm, spoilers I guess?
Summary: The first kiss was wasted on hurt and anger, but the second might redeem it.
Note: So, to introduce myself for the first time, I decided to write something awfully depressing and really establish myself as an angst-hoor. But! There is a happy ending and that's the important part.
***
There is no way of escaping the feeling of that sudden distance, the feeling that they left something of Fai behind in Tokyo, or maybe even more accurately that Fai has left him behind, and is now running for his life to some dark, unexplored part of his mind. It is almost tangible, the feeling, as if he could reach out and touch it if he tried. He wishes he could, because some cold, sharp part of it seems embedded in his chest, and touching it might just mean that he’d be able to pull it out.
He should've known it would be like that, with that damn witch involved. At the time, his freedom had seemed a small price to pay for the magician's life, but to his mind, she always finds a way to take more than you at first realize; there is always a catch. He doesn't for a second regret what he did, but now... now he knows the true sacrifice he made. It's uncomfortably close to the sacrifice Syaoran made.
Save Sakura, but lose the trust built through years of friendship, the feelings nurtured since childhood.
Save Fai, and lose the warmth which had slowly began to seep through those empty smiles, lose all the things Kurogane hadn't realized he treasured until they were gone.
The distance is slowly driving him mad. It's there every time Fai calls him "Kurogane", every time he refuses to look at him after feeding, every time he smiles that mirthless little smile that doesn't even pretend to be happy; which mocks the very idea of happiness. It is there in his dreams, too, which are full of memories of a cheerful, teasing voice and eyes that, just occasionally, could be just as gentle as Princess Tomoyo's. Sometimes, those dreams change their nature after a while, earn a harsh edge of terror, as skin that was already pale turns paler yet, Fai weeps blood, and he looks up to see a blue eye staring at him from the wrong face.
Sometimes, he just dreams of Fai asking to be allowed to die.
And despite the best efforts of Souma and Tomoyo, he has never been a patient person, and it doesn’t take long for him to snap. It doesn’t surprise him that he does; he’s felt it approaching since they first moved to this new world. It only surprises him how he does it.
It is with no plan, no motive, nothing but the blind need to somehow reduce the feeling of distance between them, that he crushes Fai against a wall. He holds him by the front of his jacket and presses against him so hard, he hears air whooshing out of the magician’s lungs. And then, with no idea what to do now that he has him there, and yet still not feeling like he got any closer at all, he follows the first wild impulse that tugs at his heart.
He regrets it the instance his lips close over Fai’s, slightly parted in shock and as soft as an invitation, an apology. Because he knows now, as he once didn’t, that there are some things force can’t achieve, and bridging the void between them is one such thing. He can’t force this kiss to mean something it doesn’t, any more than he can turn back time and have back the old Fai, the one that just occasionally would let him in.
Before Fai manages to react, before his body has stiffened in protest against his touch, before what almost feels like a kiss turns into a refusal, he has pushed away from the magician, turning his back on him because he doesn’t want to see. But he still does. Not even he is fast enough to avoid it; or maybe he just wants to punish himself for this. Whatever the reason, that split second glance he gets of Fai’s face is enough to reveal the hurt that for just a moment makes his eye darken like a bruise, as if Kurogane had just punched through his whole being, and it had offered no more resistance than wet paper. And then, he defends himself, and his eyes harden until nothing can come through, not even a glint of recognition. As if he, too, had had his memories stolen.
All this in a split second. And then he’s staring at the wall, his breathing coming harsh and sharp, and with a warmth that might never go away lingering on his lips. There’s a long silence, and something about it feels deliberate. He’s proven right, too, by the tone of Fai’s voice when he finally speaks.
“Was this what you wanted, Kurogane?” he demands lightly, but there is dark, angry amusement underneath.
He actually opens his mouth to say “yes”, reflexively, as if he’d been waiting to do so. But then he shakes his head angrily. “No,” he grinds out, fighting an impulse to spin around and punch the bastard. “You know it’s not. Not now.”
Fai makes a small tch sound. “Then surely it wasn’t necessary.”
He’s angry, so angry with Fai for being like this, but he’s furious with himself. Because the little shit is speaking the truth for once, as if now he finally found out how to be honest.
He thinks to himself that he really should’ve known. The man’s a liar, through and through, so why did it come as a surprise that the one he’d been doing the best job of deceiving, was himself? That’s the only reason he can think of for this sudden, horrified retreat. Fai must’ve not realized what he was doing, how he’d slowly but surely invaded everything that was Kurogane’s, creeping ever closer upon him with his stupid smiles and his strange, sudden concessions and his arbitrary way of being kind. He must truly have fooled himself, somehow, that he had no design behind it, and that the effect of it really meant nothing. The damn fool. The ridiculous little moron. And then, finding that it had gone so far that someone was willing to give everything, including themselves, to keep him alive… No wonder the little coward was acting like he did now.
Bastard.
He knows he is the kind of person who takes it upon himself to protect others; truth to be told, he’s damn well made it the very core of his existence. But he has learned the hard way that the protected should be given a choice in the matter, or you’ll just end up making a joke out of yourself and those you claim to want to protect. And what Fai is doing now is taking that choice away from him, and he hates it.
But all this aside, what he just did was still way out of line, and you’re not a man if you can’t admit something like that.
“I’m sorry,” he says, keeping his voice flat and formal. “That was not something I had the right to do.” And after a short pause he adds, less formally: “You can punch me if you feel like it.”
Silently as he might walk, Kurogane can still feel Fai stepping closer, until he’s a warm presence just a handbreadth from his back. The tension between them is so tangible, he’s almost surprised that he doesn’t hear the crackle of electricity. “Now why would I want to do a thing like that, hmm, Kurogane?” Fai mumbles, half mocking and half sad, or maybe half annoyed and half amused; he’s all halves, all shades and ghosts, and if there is something that’s real under it all, then Kurogane can no longer find it. “But who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll take you up on that offer.” He laughs quietly, probably because they both know that even a punch is a kind of emotional commitment, and as such it is something Fai won’t do.
But this is more than Kurogane can stand; it borders on outright cruelty in a way that he can’t quite reconcile with the image of the Fai he used to know, the Fai he thought he knew. He knows it’s contrived, a way of pushing him further away, but that doesn’t change anything, and Fai is even more of an idiot if he thinks it does.
Growling a quiet curse at him, he leaves. He’s wasted it. He wasted that kiss. And what he’d wasted it on was something he knows he can’t have back, and he’d still done it. He isn’t the kind of person who’ll pretend that he has something he doesn’t, but that is the problem with Fai. His fakery is contagious, and it is hard to know if anything that has to do with him is genuine.
Except Kurogane is sure that there’d been something there that was, and Fai pretending differently now is something he can’t forgive him for.
~*~*~*~
The smile on Fai’s face when he says “This is payback,” can’t really be called happy, but in all its irritation and frustration, it is still absolutely genuine. And he calls him “Kuro-sama” again, and it annoys Kurogane more than he’d ever imagined possible that it makes him smile right back. He hears himself saying something about beating Fai up, as if he actually had the strength to tackle the mage’s mercurial fighting style right now. After a moment of trying to stare each other down - or rather, of Kurogane trying to stare Fai down, and Fai gazing blithely back at him, completely unaffected - Fai chuckles and crouches down on the floor in front of him.
“You two clearly have much to discuss.” Tomoyo’s soft voice breaks the silence, and Kurogane jumps slightly as for the first time in his whole life, he’d actually managed to forget that she was in the room. Also, she says the words in a slightly pointed way which makes him glare sideways at her. She smiles serenely, as unmoved by his anger as ever.
“You sort things out with your friend, Kurogane. I’ll be waiting.” And with a soft rustle of silk and a last innocent little smile which fools nobody, she’s gone.
Fai looks amused, but he doesn’t comment upon her words. Instead, and quite calmly, he says: “I told you I might take you up on your offer, Kuro-sama.”
Kurogane is quite sure that he only calls him that again because Fai’s a smug little bastard who wants him to know that he noticed his reaction to it the first time. He growls instead of replying, mostly because at first he doesn’t get what Fai is even talking about. But the magician waits patiently until it finally sinks in, and then Kurogane looks away, thoroughly uneasy.
“Back then…”
“You really have the worst kind of timing, you know,” Fai says lightly, rocking back at his heels a bit and watching him through a spray of wispy fair locks. “While I suppose I can’t say that I’d realized the extent of my feelings before you did that foolish thing, I have to confess to wanting you to do something of the sorts. And then you go and do it at a time like that. Really.”
Despite himself, Kurogane snorts, ignoring something that feels like embarrassment because he’d rather chop off his other arm than acknowledge that feeling. “I’m not gonna apologize for ruining some idiot fantasy of yours,” he grunts, as if he too hadn’t felt the loss something very precious when he’d thrown away that kiss on hurt and anger.
“You’re brutish and unfeeling,” Fai accuses him, almost looking like he’s on the verge of pouting, and that really shouldn’t make him feel happy, but it does. And then the bastard suddenly smiles teasingly, poking him square in the chest. “And full of yourself, too, thinking that I fantasize about you.”
Kurogane slaps his hand away, glaring at him. “You’re the one who said…”
But Fai isn’t listening. He flops down on the floor, stretching out his long legs and looking rather pleased with himself, even if it’s still tempered with that new solemnity of his, the shadow that won’t leave his eyes anymore. Maybe it’s because he’s decided not to fake it, but Kurogane isn’t so sure. He’s got a feeling that if Fai could, he probably would fake it. But maybe now, the wound’s been bleeding for too long for him to be able to hide the blood any longer.
And thinking of blood makes him realize something else.
“No wonder you punch so weakly,” he growls.
“Hmm?” Fai raises his eyebrows in a pretty show of incomprehension, but Kurogane has learned to see through that at least.
“You haven’t had any damn blood during the time I was passed out. Don’t lie. You haven’t.”
Fai glances away, making a small face. “You’ve only got yourself to blame for that. A person can lose a lot of blood if they behave like a fool and chop their own arms off, or so I’ve been told. That kind of person in not someone I’d want to feed off.” He smiles faintly. “The foolishness might be contagious, after all.”
Kurogane doesn’t answer, only looks instinctively around for his sword, only to find that it isn’t there. He dropped it, he remembers now. “I’m gonna need a knife,” he says, giving Fai a scalding look and daring him to defy him. Fai just sighs.
“You’re doing this all wrong,” he complains.
“Are you gonna get a knife or do I have to get one myself?” Kurogane demands relentlessly, making a motion as if to cross his arms and then, realizing that this is of course impossible, letting his arm fall limply at his side. A look of worry flits over Fai’s face, and a pale hand darts out to gently brush over Kurogane’s knuckles for just a second.
“Very well,” he concedes. “Since Tomoyo-chan says you’ve recovered. But then, you’ve got to do something for me in turn.”
Kurogane scowls, wondering how him draining his blood was the same as Fai doing him a favor. But he doesn’t even bother asking, because he’s sure the answer is just going to make him angry. “Fine,” he grunts. “What?”
And suddenly Fai is an inch away from his face, having moved so quickly and fluidly that the movement barely registered in his brain. “You need to do it right this time,” he murmurs, lowering his eyelids in that demure way, his warm breath ghosting over Kurogane’s face. He stiffens in shock, his half-formed protest getting stuck in his throat, and apparently that is all the encouragement that Fai needs.
It’s not even as if it’s him doing anything, right or otherwise, Kurogane thinks distantly, as soft lips are pressed against his. But it’s not as if he thinks Fai will complain, and he has to reluctantly concede that neither will he. And as cool hands cup his face and his own hand strays on its own accord to the small of Fai’s back, he knows that this is something Fai couldn’t fake if he tried. And something that broke between them back then is starting to slowly heal.
Maybe that kiss hadn’t been a waste at all.
Rating: PG?
Warning: Angst, god help me, and a tentative grasp of the characters at best. Oh, and uhm, spoilers I guess?
Summary: The first kiss was wasted on hurt and anger, but the second might redeem it.
Note: So, to introduce myself for the first time, I decided to write something awfully depressing and really establish myself as an angst-hoor. But! There is a happy ending and that's the important part.
***
There is no way of escaping the feeling of that sudden distance, the feeling that they left something of Fai behind in Tokyo, or maybe even more accurately that Fai has left him behind, and is now running for his life to some dark, unexplored part of his mind. It is almost tangible, the feeling, as if he could reach out and touch it if he tried. He wishes he could, because some cold, sharp part of it seems embedded in his chest, and touching it might just mean that he’d be able to pull it out.
He should've known it would be like that, with that damn witch involved. At the time, his freedom had seemed a small price to pay for the magician's life, but to his mind, she always finds a way to take more than you at first realize; there is always a catch. He doesn't for a second regret what he did, but now... now he knows the true sacrifice he made. It's uncomfortably close to the sacrifice Syaoran made.
Save Sakura, but lose the trust built through years of friendship, the feelings nurtured since childhood.
Save Fai, and lose the warmth which had slowly began to seep through those empty smiles, lose all the things Kurogane hadn't realized he treasured until they were gone.
The distance is slowly driving him mad. It's there every time Fai calls him "Kurogane", every time he refuses to look at him after feeding, every time he smiles that mirthless little smile that doesn't even pretend to be happy; which mocks the very idea of happiness. It is there in his dreams, too, which are full of memories of a cheerful, teasing voice and eyes that, just occasionally, could be just as gentle as Princess Tomoyo's. Sometimes, those dreams change their nature after a while, earn a harsh edge of terror, as skin that was already pale turns paler yet, Fai weeps blood, and he looks up to see a blue eye staring at him from the wrong face.
Sometimes, he just dreams of Fai asking to be allowed to die.
And despite the best efforts of Souma and Tomoyo, he has never been a patient person, and it doesn’t take long for him to snap. It doesn’t surprise him that he does; he’s felt it approaching since they first moved to this new world. It only surprises him how he does it.
It is with no plan, no motive, nothing but the blind need to somehow reduce the feeling of distance between them, that he crushes Fai against a wall. He holds him by the front of his jacket and presses against him so hard, he hears air whooshing out of the magician’s lungs. And then, with no idea what to do now that he has him there, and yet still not feeling like he got any closer at all, he follows the first wild impulse that tugs at his heart.
He regrets it the instance his lips close over Fai’s, slightly parted in shock and as soft as an invitation, an apology. Because he knows now, as he once didn’t, that there are some things force can’t achieve, and bridging the void between them is one such thing. He can’t force this kiss to mean something it doesn’t, any more than he can turn back time and have back the old Fai, the one that just occasionally would let him in.
Before Fai manages to react, before his body has stiffened in protest against his touch, before what almost feels like a kiss turns into a refusal, he has pushed away from the magician, turning his back on him because he doesn’t want to see. But he still does. Not even he is fast enough to avoid it; or maybe he just wants to punish himself for this. Whatever the reason, that split second glance he gets of Fai’s face is enough to reveal the hurt that for just a moment makes his eye darken like a bruise, as if Kurogane had just punched through his whole being, and it had offered no more resistance than wet paper. And then, he defends himself, and his eyes harden until nothing can come through, not even a glint of recognition. As if he, too, had had his memories stolen.
All this in a split second. And then he’s staring at the wall, his breathing coming harsh and sharp, and with a warmth that might never go away lingering on his lips. There’s a long silence, and something about it feels deliberate. He’s proven right, too, by the tone of Fai’s voice when he finally speaks.
“Was this what you wanted, Kurogane?” he demands lightly, but there is dark, angry amusement underneath.
He actually opens his mouth to say “yes”, reflexively, as if he’d been waiting to do so. But then he shakes his head angrily. “No,” he grinds out, fighting an impulse to spin around and punch the bastard. “You know it’s not. Not now.”
Fai makes a small tch sound. “Then surely it wasn’t necessary.”
He’s angry, so angry with Fai for being like this, but he’s furious with himself. Because the little shit is speaking the truth for once, as if now he finally found out how to be honest.
He thinks to himself that he really should’ve known. The man’s a liar, through and through, so why did it come as a surprise that the one he’d been doing the best job of deceiving, was himself? That’s the only reason he can think of for this sudden, horrified retreat. Fai must’ve not realized what he was doing, how he’d slowly but surely invaded everything that was Kurogane’s, creeping ever closer upon him with his stupid smiles and his strange, sudden concessions and his arbitrary way of being kind. He must truly have fooled himself, somehow, that he had no design behind it, and that the effect of it really meant nothing. The damn fool. The ridiculous little moron. And then, finding that it had gone so far that someone was willing to give everything, including themselves, to keep him alive… No wonder the little coward was acting like he did now.
Bastard.
He knows he is the kind of person who takes it upon himself to protect others; truth to be told, he’s damn well made it the very core of his existence. But he has learned the hard way that the protected should be given a choice in the matter, or you’ll just end up making a joke out of yourself and those you claim to want to protect. And what Fai is doing now is taking that choice away from him, and he hates it.
But all this aside, what he just did was still way out of line, and you’re not a man if you can’t admit something like that.
“I’m sorry,” he says, keeping his voice flat and formal. “That was not something I had the right to do.” And after a short pause he adds, less formally: “You can punch me if you feel like it.”
Silently as he might walk, Kurogane can still feel Fai stepping closer, until he’s a warm presence just a handbreadth from his back. The tension between them is so tangible, he’s almost surprised that he doesn’t hear the crackle of electricity. “Now why would I want to do a thing like that, hmm, Kurogane?” Fai mumbles, half mocking and half sad, or maybe half annoyed and half amused; he’s all halves, all shades and ghosts, and if there is something that’s real under it all, then Kurogane can no longer find it. “But who knows? Maybe one day, I’ll take you up on that offer.” He laughs quietly, probably because they both know that even a punch is a kind of emotional commitment, and as such it is something Fai won’t do.
But this is more than Kurogane can stand; it borders on outright cruelty in a way that he can’t quite reconcile with the image of the Fai he used to know, the Fai he thought he knew. He knows it’s contrived, a way of pushing him further away, but that doesn’t change anything, and Fai is even more of an idiot if he thinks it does.
Growling a quiet curse at him, he leaves. He’s wasted it. He wasted that kiss. And what he’d wasted it on was something he knows he can’t have back, and he’d still done it. He isn’t the kind of person who’ll pretend that he has something he doesn’t, but that is the problem with Fai. His fakery is contagious, and it is hard to know if anything that has to do with him is genuine.
Except Kurogane is sure that there’d been something there that was, and Fai pretending differently now is something he can’t forgive him for.
~*~*~*~
The smile on Fai’s face when he says “This is payback,” can’t really be called happy, but in all its irritation and frustration, it is still absolutely genuine. And he calls him “Kuro-sama” again, and it annoys Kurogane more than he’d ever imagined possible that it makes him smile right back. He hears himself saying something about beating Fai up, as if he actually had the strength to tackle the mage’s mercurial fighting style right now. After a moment of trying to stare each other down - or rather, of Kurogane trying to stare Fai down, and Fai gazing blithely back at him, completely unaffected - Fai chuckles and crouches down on the floor in front of him.
“You two clearly have much to discuss.” Tomoyo’s soft voice breaks the silence, and Kurogane jumps slightly as for the first time in his whole life, he’d actually managed to forget that she was in the room. Also, she says the words in a slightly pointed way which makes him glare sideways at her. She smiles serenely, as unmoved by his anger as ever.
“You sort things out with your friend, Kurogane. I’ll be waiting.” And with a soft rustle of silk and a last innocent little smile which fools nobody, she’s gone.
Fai looks amused, but he doesn’t comment upon her words. Instead, and quite calmly, he says: “I told you I might take you up on your offer, Kuro-sama.”
Kurogane is quite sure that he only calls him that again because Fai’s a smug little bastard who wants him to know that he noticed his reaction to it the first time. He growls instead of replying, mostly because at first he doesn’t get what Fai is even talking about. But the magician waits patiently until it finally sinks in, and then Kurogane looks away, thoroughly uneasy.
“Back then…”
“You really have the worst kind of timing, you know,” Fai says lightly, rocking back at his heels a bit and watching him through a spray of wispy fair locks. “While I suppose I can’t say that I’d realized the extent of my feelings before you did that foolish thing, I have to confess to wanting you to do something of the sorts. And then you go and do it at a time like that. Really.”
Despite himself, Kurogane snorts, ignoring something that feels like embarrassment because he’d rather chop off his other arm than acknowledge that feeling. “I’m not gonna apologize for ruining some idiot fantasy of yours,” he grunts, as if he too hadn’t felt the loss something very precious when he’d thrown away that kiss on hurt and anger.
“You’re brutish and unfeeling,” Fai accuses him, almost looking like he’s on the verge of pouting, and that really shouldn’t make him feel happy, but it does. And then the bastard suddenly smiles teasingly, poking him square in the chest. “And full of yourself, too, thinking that I fantasize about you.”
Kurogane slaps his hand away, glaring at him. “You’re the one who said…”
But Fai isn’t listening. He flops down on the floor, stretching out his long legs and looking rather pleased with himself, even if it’s still tempered with that new solemnity of his, the shadow that won’t leave his eyes anymore. Maybe it’s because he’s decided not to fake it, but Kurogane isn’t so sure. He’s got a feeling that if Fai could, he probably would fake it. But maybe now, the wound’s been bleeding for too long for him to be able to hide the blood any longer.
And thinking of blood makes him realize something else.
“No wonder you punch so weakly,” he growls.
“Hmm?” Fai raises his eyebrows in a pretty show of incomprehension, but Kurogane has learned to see through that at least.
“You haven’t had any damn blood during the time I was passed out. Don’t lie. You haven’t.”
Fai glances away, making a small face. “You’ve only got yourself to blame for that. A person can lose a lot of blood if they behave like a fool and chop their own arms off, or so I’ve been told. That kind of person in not someone I’d want to feed off.” He smiles faintly. “The foolishness might be contagious, after all.”
Kurogane doesn’t answer, only looks instinctively around for his sword, only to find that it isn’t there. He dropped it, he remembers now. “I’m gonna need a knife,” he says, giving Fai a scalding look and daring him to defy him. Fai just sighs.
“You’re doing this all wrong,” he complains.
“Are you gonna get a knife or do I have to get one myself?” Kurogane demands relentlessly, making a motion as if to cross his arms and then, realizing that this is of course impossible, letting his arm fall limply at his side. A look of worry flits over Fai’s face, and a pale hand darts out to gently brush over Kurogane’s knuckles for just a second.
“Very well,” he concedes. “Since Tomoyo-chan says you’ve recovered. But then, you’ve got to do something for me in turn.”
Kurogane scowls, wondering how him draining his blood was the same as Fai doing him a favor. But he doesn’t even bother asking, because he’s sure the answer is just going to make him angry. “Fine,” he grunts. “What?”
And suddenly Fai is an inch away from his face, having moved so quickly and fluidly that the movement barely registered in his brain. “You need to do it right this time,” he murmurs, lowering his eyelids in that demure way, his warm breath ghosting over Kurogane’s face. He stiffens in shock, his half-formed protest getting stuck in his throat, and apparently that is all the encouragement that Fai needs.
It’s not even as if it’s him doing anything, right or otherwise, Kurogane thinks distantly, as soft lips are pressed against his. But it’s not as if he thinks Fai will complain, and he has to reluctantly concede that neither will he. And as cool hands cup his face and his own hand strays on its own accord to the small of Fai’s back, he knows that this is something Fai couldn’t fake if he tried. And something that broke between them back then is starting to slowly heal.
Maybe that kiss hadn’t been a waste at all.