What You Wish For (Chapter Two)
Title: What You Wish For
Author: alliterationhor
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Spoilers: mentions/flashbacks of Yama. nothing major.
Rating: PG/this chapter.
Status: so not complete.
Author's note: I have developed an insane love for barely-coherent Fai. alas, I realize his word substitution might be a little confusing, so if anyone doesn't understand something, let me know.
Also note: this chapter has flashbacks, which are also hopefully not too confusing.
Another note: so I said to my brain, "Fai needs to be weirder." answered my brain, "Fai talks to trees."
Fanfic archive here.
Comments/concrit appreciated.
Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12
What You Wish For
Woke up today to everything grey
And all that I saw just kept goin' on and on
-Guster, What You Wish For
Chapter Two
Out of all the worlds they had traveled to, Fai wished the most that Kurogane remembered Yama.
* * *
This was ridiculous, Fai thought, frowning at Kurogane. They had to be able to communicate somehow.
And then he had a brilliant idea.
“You-” he pointed to Kurogane, and paused, wondering how to mimic ‘teach’. Finally he tapped his temple, “teach-” he pointed to himself, “me-” he pointed to his mouth, “to speak” he pointed to Kurogane again, “your-” he pinched Kurogane’s lips together, “language.”
Kurogane shoved the hand away with a growl. And sighed. The mage may be crazy, but he was right. They did not know when or if Syaoran and Sakura and the white manjuu were going to show up. And if they were going to be stuck together forever, he wanted to know what the man was saying so he would know exactly how many times to hit him.
“You want me to teach you my language?” Kurogane asked, running quickly through the same stupid hand motions Fai had used-minus the pinching.
“Yes!” Fai exclaimed, jumping up and twirling around. “Kuro-ko’s so smart!”
Kurogane did not understand many of the words, but he understood his name being mangled.
“Alright. First lesson.”
Fai took the cue to sit down, with the look of an eager student on his face.
Kurogane pointed to himself. “Kurogane,” he said slowly, enunciating clearly.
Fai pointed to Kurogane, “Kuro-mi.” And pointed to himself, “Fai.”
“Kurogane,” Kurogane repeated.
“Kuro-hi?”
“No.”
“Kuro-che?”
“No.”
* * *
Fai answered the knock on his door, not knowing who to expect-but certain it would not be Kurogane.
He was right.
It was the same young man who had delivered to his room last night; pillows and sheets for the bed, two changes of clothes (one, he assumed, to sleep in), a toothbrush and a comb, a covered plate of food, and six books. The books were language books, one was a dictionary.
Fai was very grateful; Tomoyo seemed to understand, somehow, that he did not really want to talk much until he was more secure in the language. She also seemed to understand that Fai preferred to learn as much as he could on his own, and that he wanted to learn quickly.
Last night, the boy had introduced himself as “Jalen”, showed him the way to the bathrooms and made sure he knew the way back to his room, and Fai had not said much more than “thank you”.
Today, the boy looked nervous. “Good morning, Fai-san.”
“Good morning, Jalen-kun.”
The boy hesitated, as if given a task and unsure how to start. “Tomoyo-hime ... asked me to help you learn our language?” he said slowly.
Fai nodded, pointing as he spoke. “Jalen. Fai. Bed. Books. Chair. Clothes.” He gestured to his eyes, “Blue.” He pointed to Jalen’s eyes, “Brown.” He circled a finger in the air to indicate their surroundings, “Room.” After a pause, he added, “Mine.” He pointed east, where sunlight was coming through the open doorway, “Morning.” Pointed upward, “Noon.” He pointed west, out his window, “Night.” He held one fist out and drew an index finger from it upward into the air. “Sword.” Then he smiled, pointing to himself, “Shut up, idiot.”
“I’m sorry?”
Fai shook his head. “I know-some words.”
Jalen looked relieved, like the given task was not going to be as difficult as he had feared.
* * *
It was two weeks before Fai finally looked up, and said, “Kurogane?” as if he was just then getting it.
Kurogane silently offered thanks to the gods. He had refused to give any more lessons if his pupil couldn’t even grasp the simple concept of saying his name correctly. It had been two weeks of Fai trailing after him and reciting every damn nickname he could make up in that twisted mind of his.
“Yes.” Kurogane said. “Lesson two.” He pointed to Fai. “Idiot.”
“Idiot.” Fai repeated seriously, pointing to himself.
Kurogane thought, This might be some fun after all.
* * *
Jalen walked Fai through the palace, pointing things out and saying their names as he gave Fai the tour.
Jalen was a much more patient teacher than Kurogane had been, but Kurogane had been a much more fun teacher, Fai thought wistfully.
A few minutes later, Tomoyo appeared next to them.
Fai wondered if Kurogane had taught her how to walk silently as a ninja, or if she had learned the ability on her own. Either was possible, he thought.
“Good morning, Tomoyo-hime,” Jalen said.
“Good morning, Jalen-san. Fai-san.”
“Good morning, Tomoyo-chan.”
Tomoyo smiled, and Fai knew instantly that he liked her.
“Fai-san, would you like to join me for breakfast?”
“Yes. I would like-very much.”
“Jalen-san, I will send for you after breakfast, so you may continue Fai-san’s education.”
“Yes, princess.”
Tomoyo led Fai to a small, cozy room with a low table. They sat and ate mostly in silence. When they were both done and the dishes cleared away except for their teacups, Tomoyo spoke.
“Are you doing-well, so far?”
“I am-” Fai stopped, frustrated at not having the rights words immediately at his disposal. “Alright.”
Tomoyo nodded. “Were the books I sent you of help?”
“Yes. I thank you.”
“And Jalen-san is a good teacher?”
“Yes. You are very kind, Tomoyo-chan.”
Tomoyo wanted to say that she was only doing what she thought anyone should do to help in this situation, but she thought that might be too complex a sentence for the present time.
“Good.” She took a sip of her tea. “I thought you and Jalen-san would get along well.”
“Jalen-kun seems ... nice.”
“Yes.” Tomoyo smiled. Then her face turned serious. “I did ask you here for more than small talk, Fai-san.”
Fai nodded.
“I thought you would like to know.” She set her teacup down. “I had a talk with Yuuko yesterday.”
Fai looked down, braving himself to ask the question he was afraid to hear the answer to. “Kurogane wished to forget me, did not he?”
“No.” Tomoyo replied, surprise evident in her voice. “He wished to follow you.”
“Follow ...?” Fai repeated the word in confusion. “Follow means ... He went-after, to where I went? He wished ...?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he wish-?”
The look Tomoyo gave him suggested that surely he was not that stupid. “His memory of you was his payment.”
“Oh, hells.” Fai cursed, not even realizing he had spoken in his own language. “How-how ... That is repeated?”
“Redundant?” Tomoyo supplied. “It seems Kurogane said the same thing to Yuuko. She does not appreciate that word.”
“But I was-here then. Yuuko-san told him not ...?”
“She said that would be interfering with the integrity of the wish.” Tomoyo said slowly, watching Fai’s face to make sure he understood the words she used. “I can ... understand what she meant.”
Her voice indicated that ‘understand’ did not necessarily mean ‘like’.
“His wish would not have been the same if he had known.”
Yes, Fai thought. If Kurogane had known. If Kurogane had only said something to me when I gave him the chance ...
Sarcasm edged Tomoyo’s voice, “Yuuko said that he should be grateful, that this way both of his wishes were filled.”
Fai laughed once, sharp and bitter. “It is ... much like one wish for the payment of ... one and one.”
Tomoyo sighed. “I am not always in agreement with Yuuko. But I do not think she meant to trick anyone.”
Tomoyo remembered what Yuuko had said yesterday, that it was not her fault that Kurogane and Fai had communication issues. Yuuko had added that really, they were both a bit stupid, weren’t they?
“How could he ...?” Fai exhaled harshly, dropping his head and covering his eyes with both hands. “How could he ... exchange his memory of me? He saw how Syaoran-kun-was in pain, when Sakura-chan forgot him.”
“Syaoran-kun and Sakura-chan are together now, are they not?” Tomoyo pointed out. “Did they not find their way back to each other?”
“Yes. But Syaoran-kun and Sakura-chan had loved-themselves? For much time before Sakura-chan lost her memory.”
“Fai-san ...”
Fai realized the teacups were rattling. He took a breath and centered himself again, and the rattling stopped abruptly.
It had been a long time since he had been so upset that he lost control of his magic.
“I am sorry.”
Tomoyo asked quietly, “Did you never tell him you love him?”
“I told him ... with each language I can speak.” His voice was very soft, and weighed with regret. “But ... never in the one ... he spoke.”
“Then can you really be angry that you have another chance?” Her voice was gentle, even though the words were not. “Does it mean so little to you, what he sacrificed for you?”
Fai looked down, feeling properly chastised. Tomoyo was right. What Kurogane had lost-for both of them-had been given up so that they would not lose all chance to find each other again.
And he had just as much fault in this as Kurogane did. Kurogane had had a chance to say something to him, but Fai had had that chance as well. And why had he not said something, even if he had thought Kurogane would not care? He’d had nothing to lose; Fai had thought he would never see Kurogane again after he left the Witch’s place.
Well, that was still partly true. He would never see that same Kurogane again, the one he had journeyed with and teased and been chased by. That Kurogane was gone.
This Kurogane had no memory of him. This Kurogane was the same, but different.
This Kurogane was a second chance.
Even so, the knowledge of what he had lost was fresh, painful and sharp.
“A most ... wise woman you are, Tomoyo-hime.”
Tomoyo smiled a little sadly, as if her thoughts were similar to his. “Kurogane may not entirely remember the lesson I wished for him to learn-for I believe, you were a large contribution to that lesson-but he did learn it. That knowledge is still a part of him.” She paused. “Just as you are still a part of him, even though ...”
“Though he has no memory of me.” Fai’s hand closed over a teacup when it began to rattle, and he made himself calm down again. “I am sorry.”
“Do not worry. I would not expect this to be easy for you.”
Fai was staring, eyes unfocused and far away. “I do suppose, if you can call it a-” His eyebrows furrowed together, “better look?”
“Bright side.”
“A bright side. That he did not wish to forget me.”
“No. He did not wish to forget you.”
* * *
Kurogane should have known it would be a bad idea to teach Fai his language.
Fai took some kind of perverse pleasure in being able to point at things whenever he liked and have Kurogane name them. And his creative pantomime was even more annoying. At this current point in time, Fai was like some kind of demented toddler, not yet able to speak in complete sentences but quite able to avoid you when you wanted to smack him.
At least, Kurogane had to admit, Fai was a decent enough artist and his hand at kanji was not bad.
“This?” Fai asked, waving his arm around in the air to indicate the sky.
“I already told you the word for sky.”
Fai shoved the sheaf of paper (that now accompanied them everywhere) at him. “The-”
“Kanji. Alright.” Kurogane drew the character quickly.
“Pretty,” Fai said, tracing it out a few times. “Sky.”
“Blue.”
“Buh-Buh-loo ...?” Fai repeated slowly, as if he was trying to wrap his lips around the word.
“Blue. The sky, blue. Your eyes are blue.” He paused. “Well, were blue.”
Fai was frowning at his mouth as if he was speaking another language. Which, Kurogane had to admit, was pretty much the truth.
Kurogane sighed, pointing above them. “The colour of the sky-is blue.” He pointed to Fai’s eyes, now an inky, unfamiliar black. “The colour of your eyes-is blue.” he said, dropping the “supposed to be” he wanted to add before “blue” for the sake of less confusion.
Fai looked strangely flattered. “Blue,” he repeated, more certainly now. “Colour, blue. Pretty sky.”
Suddenly Fai leaned over and gave Kurogane a kiss on the cheek. “What is that?”
“That’s my question!” Kurogane growled, rubbing his cheek. “What the hell was that?”
“What is-word?”
“A kiss.” Kurogane responded automatically, and instantly regretted it. “Why do you need to know the word for kissing? You won’t be kissing anyone here.”
Fai smiled, that smile that Kurogane had come to expect meant bad, bad things.
“Kiss. Kissing. I like ... the word. Kiss kiss kiss! Kissing. Ears say fun!”
“You mean, ‘That sounds fun.’”
“That ... sounds ... fun.” Fai repeated slowly, testing the words on his tongue. “Kissing sounds fun?” he asked.
“If you say so.”
Fai nodded. That was not quite the answer he was trying for, but since Kurogane did not correct his sentence he supposed he had worded it properly.
“Kissing sounds fun.” he murmured. Then he held the paper out to Kurogane again. “Here-the-?”
“Kanji. Right.”
* * *
Kurogane had spent most of the day inspecting the palace and making sure the security measures were still being held up to his exacting standards. He was relatively satisfied, the system of security that he had arranged from before his-departure-had seemed to run like a well-oiled machine in his absence.
Tomoyo had told the Guard that Kurogane had gone on a “vacation”.
His second in charge, Gareth, had been acting as High Ninja of the Guard in his absence. Gareth had welcomed him back from his “vacation”, said that he had deserved a rest (Kurogane had sighed at that, his “vacation” had been anything but restful), and asked where he had been all that time.
Kurogane was not quite happy with people thinking he had been on a vacation, to him it seemed to imply that he could not handle his position, or that he did not have the respect for his job that he should have. But the alternative being the truth, and the truth being that Tomoyo had sent him off like an errant pet who had displeased its master, Kurogane had decided that “vacation” was a sufficient story.
With the palace security checked off his mental list, the next thing Kurogane wanted to inspect was the Guard. Which he would be doing now, but the Guard had schedules to keep. He would have to set a scheduled time for an inspection, and it would probably have to be next week.
Now, Kurogane was inspecting the grounds, on the lookout for anything suspicious. He realized this was probably a little bit much, but he did not have much else to do for the remainder of the afternoon, and it never hurt to be an extra bit careful.
When he was finished, he headed for his favourite spot by the lake. It was on the far side, sheltered by a large rock and shaded by tall trees. It was quiet there, and a little bit wilder than the rest of grounds because the gardeners had a tendency to overlook it.
Kurogane stopped in surprise as he came around the large rock. “You’re here.”
Fai was laying on his stomach in the grass, bare feet in the air, with a book open in front of him. “I-here.” he said slowly, sitting up.
Kurogane grunted, a bit annoyed at not having the solace he sought. But he was somehow unwilling to ask the strange man to leave. He leaned against the tree trunk, finding the spot where the bole fit his back just right. He was glad that was still the same.
Fai observed the familiar way Kurogane was leaning, and smiled. “This is your ... pet tree?”
“Favourite tree?”
“Favourite tree ...”
Fai had hoped to wait until the language came easier to him to talk to Kurogane again. He wanted to have the words first. But as soon as he saw Kurogane, he could not resist the chance.
Kurogane shrugged one shoulder, “I like this tree.” he muttered, not sure why he said that to a total stranger. One of his hands found the scratchy place on the bark that he liked, rubbing absently.
“I might-let you two alone?”
“What?!”
Fai was smiling at him. “If you love, outside does not matter. You should not deny your heart.”
It took Kurogane a minute to figure out what the strange man was trying to say. “I’m not in love with the tree.”
“You have-known? About her heart?”
Kurogane really had no idea what that was supposed to mean. “Trees have branches, not hearts.”
Fai was frowning up into the branches now. “You now have hurt Esmeralda’s heart.”
“Who’s Esmeralda?”
“The tree.”
“You named the tree?”
Fai blinked at him as if that was a silly question. “No. She told me her name.”
Kurogane sighed and closed his eyes, wondering how he got into this insane conversation. “Trees don’t talk, either.”
“You have ever tried hearing?” Fai questioned slowly, smiling again. “You maybe have never heard trees talk because you do not believe trees talk.”
“Maybe I’ve never heard them because trees don’t talk.”
“Trees maybe do not want to talk to you.”
Fai sounded serious, but Kurogane had the distinct impression the man was trying to tease him.
“Worry-not.” He waved a hand. “You miss, not much. Trees do not have much to talk, most time.”
Fai was looking up into the branches, smiling. The leaves were rustling in a light wind, and Kurogane thought for just a second that he might have heard laughter.
After a moment, Fai continued. “Well. Her name was Esmeralda, in her last time.”
Kurogane did not want to ask. Kurogane would not ask.
Kurogane asked, “And what’s her name now?”
Fai looked at him oddly, as if everyone knew the answer to that. “Tree.”
“The tree’s name is Tree?”
“All trees names are Tree. Trees have not one to give them another name when they are new.”
Kurogane was starting to wonder if this very strange man was an escaped mental patient Tomoyo had taken pity on.
Fai flopped back down onto the grass, this time on his back, and closed his eyes against the sunlight streaming down on him. “I imagine it to be a very nice time to be a tree. All stoic and content. Sunlight and water, and their time is happy.”
“Until someone chops them down.” Kurogane commented.
“Yes. That would be a sad time.” Fai rolled over again, resting his chin on crossed arms and looking up at Kurogane. “You might know, Esmeralda is not much happy with you time now. You might tell her you did not mean, about chopping.”
Kurogane shook his head. This conversation was becoming epic proportions of ridiculous. “I’m not going to apologize to the tree.”
But he looked up into the branches and tried to direct the thought to the tree, I have no intention of letting anyone cut you down.
Fai smiled, as if he knew that Kurogane had spoken to the tree anyway. “She likes you too. She says she thought of you while you were here not.”
Kurogane grunted. He sat down with his back against Esmeralda, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Arms crossed, eyes closed; he hoped for a bit of quiet.
Fai seemed to understand, because he went back to reading his book.
For awhile, the only sounds were the occasional turning of a page and the lazy breeze stirring the leaves.
Kurogane opened his eyes to slits. The other man had changed out of his foreign white clothes and was now wearing a plain set of gray robes, the kind the palace servants wore. Even so, he would still stand out against everyone else in the palace with his pale skin, blond hair and blue eyes.
His feet were up in the air again, swaying lazily, toes curling around toes. There was late afternoon sunlight in his hair, making it blaze like gold. His bright blue eyes-intelligent eyes, Kurogane thought-were focused on the book in front of him. And he was biting his lip in concentration.
Kurogane thought there seemed something sad about him.
Fai glanced up and caught Kurogane staring at him, and grinned. Kurogane looked away with a grumble.
“You can know me.” Fai said.
Kurogane raised one eyebrow. “I can know you?”
“You can ... talk. I answer.”
“I can ask you.” Kurogane corrected.
“Yes. You can ask me.”
“What am I supposed to ask you?”
Fai replied with a sly smile, “What you think that has you stare at me.”
Kurogane cut his eyes away quickly. “I’m not staring at you.”
“Hm.”
Well, the strange man had given Kurogane permission to ask, which meant he did not have to employ subterfuge or assert his rank to get answers. Even if Tomoyo trusted this stranger-for reasons unknown to Kurogane-it still bothered him to have such an unknown element in such close proximity to his princess. Granted, Tomoyo’s judgment when it came to who to trust was quite astute, and that knowledge put his mind somewhat at ease.
Kurogane figured it was part of his job to ask questions and collect information, just as much as it was part of his job to observe people in silence and know how to use a sword.
Also, Kurogane was curious about the strange man.
“So what’s your story?”
“My ... story?”
Kurogane crossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Where did you come from? How did you get here? Where are you going?”
Fai looked away, uncomfortable under the sudden, intense scrutiny. “So much asking, Kuro-tan.” he murmured.
Kurogane knew he should be annoyed by the nickname, more annoyed than he was. But more prominent than the annoyance was a flash of familiarity-and affection.
“What the hell?”
“Something is-good not?”
“It’s nothing.”
But just for a second, he caught a look in Fai’s eyes that made him think that the blond man had a fair idea of the confusing thoughts in his mind. A blink, and it was gone.
“Hm.” Fai flipped over onto his back again. Blades of grass stuck up through his long blond hair and tickled at his ears. “My story.” He closed his eyes, his voice low and somewhere far away. “I came from a place very, very far from this place. A place very-not like here. It was never warm there.” His fingers moved lazily through the grass, touching dirt. “It is a place I will never return to.”
Kurogane knew there was something more to it than that. “It was a different world?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ve met the Time-Space Witch.”
“Yes.”
“So that’s how you got here.”
“Yes.”
A beat.
“And who are you running from?”
Fai was not surprised that even without a memory of him, Kurogane could still see right through him.
“The king of the world that I am from. If he becomes awake, he will not be much happy with me. Because I am who put him ... inside the sleep.”
Although, here, with the sun bright and hot and shining on him cheerfully, with his toes in the dirt and grass in his hands, and Kurogane still asking him questions, it was easy for Fai to pretend that the cold, white world and the cold, beautiful king he had left behind were nothing but a very distant dream, unable to hurt him.
“If you’re from another dimension, how is it that you speak my language?”
“I ... had the ... lessons? Once, when I was ... lost for-time, with a one from your world. I am good with languages, so I learned the basics of it much quick.” Here he laughed a little, reminiscently. “I suppose he taught me only because my language annoyed him.”
“Someone from my world?” Kurogane asked, getting the feeling that there was something missing from this story, that there was something he should know.
Fai sat up abruptly. He sighed. Then he looked Kurogane in the eye and said, “A friend.”
“What’s his name?”
Fai was quiet for a long moment, a sad look on his face. “He does not exist anymore.”
Kurogane tilted his head, wondering if that was more bizarre word substitution. “He’s dead?”
“Dead?” Fai repeated.
“His life-his time-ended.”
Fai hesitated over this question, unsure how to answer. “In a way.”
Kurogane raised an eyebrow. “He’s either dead or he’s not.”
Fai shook his head, wanting to say that it was not that simple. “I will ... never see him again. So, in that way he is-dead.”
The question came out, and it surprised Kurogane. “Are you running from him too?”
“I suppose I was.” Fai said softly, voice very sad. “You are true.”
Something about that sadness felt so familiar to Kurogane. “Are you sure we’ve never met before?”
“No.” Fai shook his head. “The time first you saw me was-time in Tomoyo-hime’s hall.”
Which was true, in its own way.
“For answer to where I am going ... I must-complete your language, before I will decide.”
Fai hoped he could find some kind of work to do in the palace, he hoped to stay as near to Kurogane as possible. Surely they could use an extra pair of hands to help with the cleaning or to do small errands, he could help cook, and he had a clever hand at fixing things that were broken.
“What did you do before, in your world?”
Fai squared his shoulders and his posture straightened, becoming more like the way the members of royal courts held themselves. But he said the words without any pride, “I was the Royal High Mage of the kingdom of Celes.”
“We have magicians here, too.”
“I do not do magic time now.” Fai replied without hesitation.
“Why not?”
“The Dimension Witch took my-marking for my payment, and I made a ... a ...”
“Promise?” Kurogane suggested.
“A promise? Time past to never use my magic with it not.”
“Your marking?”
“You say it maybe ... skin design?”
Kurogane frowned, wondering. “A tattoo?”
“A tattoo ...?” Fai flipped through the book in front of him, murmuring, “T ... a ... t ...”
Kurogane realized the book was a dictionary.
Kurogane also dismissed the ‘escaped mental patient’ possibility. This man was smart, very smart. He did not have the best grasp of the language yet, and Kurogane could sense his frustration with the limitation. He could also sense that this man would be very well-spoken, with words chosen carefully to express exactly what he wished to say, when he had learned the all the nuances of the language.
“Tattoo. Yes, a tattoo.”
“What was so special about it?”
Fai sighed, a long slow exhalation. Then he seemed to unfold gracefully back onto the ground, eyes closing again. “... One day I will tell you.” he promised to Kurogane.
And Fai promised to himself that one day he would tell Kurogane everything that Kurogane had asked and never gotten an answer to in their last life together.
“But not time now.”
“What kind of an answer is that?” Kurogane questioned, voice dark.
“It is not.” Fai smiled a little. “But have I been very ... answer giving? To your ... interrogation thus far, I have not?”
Kurogane bristled at the use of the word ‘interrogation’, somehow sure that the word was the one Fai had meant to use. He felt slightly insulted. After all, the man had given him permission to ask questions. And he thought he had been rather polite about it.
Kurogane said gruffly, “Tomoyo-hime seems to have found reason to trust you. I haven’t.”
“I understand, Kuro-ki. You do only your loyalty.”
But Fai wondered how much of Kurogane’s current mistrust of him was because he did not remember him, and how much was an impression leftover from the time when Fai would not answer his questions.
* * *
Fai laid a hand at the center of Kurogane’s chest. “What is this?”
“My chest.”
“What is-” He poked, “under chest?”
“Hmm? Oh. Inside my chest. My heart.”
“Heart. Heart does ... bump?”
“Beat. A heart beats.”
“Heart. Beats. Heart beats inside chest?”
“Yes.”
“Heart ... does ...?”
Fai was frustrated. Kurogane cracked one eye open.
Fai gestured from Kurogane’s heart to his own. “Heart-does?”
Kurogane felt his own heartbeat quicken-whether in panic or excitement or fear or hope, he didn’t know.
“Love. A heart loves.”
“Love. A heart loves,” Fai repeated slowly.
Kurogane didn’t know why, but Fai sounded sad.
Author: alliterationhor
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Spoilers: mentions/flashbacks of Yama. nothing major.
Rating: PG/this chapter.
Status: so not complete.
Author's note: I have developed an insane love for barely-coherent Fai. alas, I realize his word substitution might be a little confusing, so if anyone doesn't understand something, let me know.
Also note: this chapter has flashbacks, which are also hopefully not too confusing.
Another note: so I said to my brain, "Fai needs to be weirder." answered my brain, "Fai talks to trees."
Fanfic archive here.
Comments/concrit appreciated.
Previous chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12
What You Wish For
Woke up today to everything grey
And all that I saw just kept goin' on and on
-Guster, What You Wish For
Chapter Two
Out of all the worlds they had traveled to, Fai wished the most that Kurogane remembered Yama.
* * *
This was ridiculous, Fai thought, frowning at Kurogane. They had to be able to communicate somehow.
And then he had a brilliant idea.
“You-” he pointed to Kurogane, and paused, wondering how to mimic ‘teach’. Finally he tapped his temple, “teach-” he pointed to himself, “me-” he pointed to his mouth, “to speak” he pointed to Kurogane again, “your-” he pinched Kurogane’s lips together, “language.”
Kurogane shoved the hand away with a growl. And sighed. The mage may be crazy, but he was right. They did not know when or if Syaoran and Sakura and the white manjuu were going to show up. And if they were going to be stuck together forever, he wanted to know what the man was saying so he would know exactly how many times to hit him.
“You want me to teach you my language?” Kurogane asked, running quickly through the same stupid hand motions Fai had used-minus the pinching.
“Yes!” Fai exclaimed, jumping up and twirling around. “Kuro-ko’s so smart!”
Kurogane did not understand many of the words, but he understood his name being mangled.
“Alright. First lesson.”
Fai took the cue to sit down, with the look of an eager student on his face.
Kurogane pointed to himself. “Kurogane,” he said slowly, enunciating clearly.
Fai pointed to Kurogane, “Kuro-mi.” And pointed to himself, “Fai.”
“Kurogane,” Kurogane repeated.
“Kuro-hi?”
“No.”
“Kuro-che?”
“No.”
* * *
Fai answered the knock on his door, not knowing who to expect-but certain it would not be Kurogane.
He was right.
It was the same young man who had delivered to his room last night; pillows and sheets for the bed, two changes of clothes (one, he assumed, to sleep in), a toothbrush and a comb, a covered plate of food, and six books. The books were language books, one was a dictionary.
Fai was very grateful; Tomoyo seemed to understand, somehow, that he did not really want to talk much until he was more secure in the language. She also seemed to understand that Fai preferred to learn as much as he could on his own, and that he wanted to learn quickly.
Last night, the boy had introduced himself as “Jalen”, showed him the way to the bathrooms and made sure he knew the way back to his room, and Fai had not said much more than “thank you”.
Today, the boy looked nervous. “Good morning, Fai-san.”
“Good morning, Jalen-kun.”
The boy hesitated, as if given a task and unsure how to start. “Tomoyo-hime ... asked me to help you learn our language?” he said slowly.
Fai nodded, pointing as he spoke. “Jalen. Fai. Bed. Books. Chair. Clothes.” He gestured to his eyes, “Blue.” He pointed to Jalen’s eyes, “Brown.” He circled a finger in the air to indicate their surroundings, “Room.” After a pause, he added, “Mine.” He pointed east, where sunlight was coming through the open doorway, “Morning.” Pointed upward, “Noon.” He pointed west, out his window, “Night.” He held one fist out and drew an index finger from it upward into the air. “Sword.” Then he smiled, pointing to himself, “Shut up, idiot.”
“I’m sorry?”
Fai shook his head. “I know-some words.”
Jalen looked relieved, like the given task was not going to be as difficult as he had feared.
* * *
It was two weeks before Fai finally looked up, and said, “Kurogane?” as if he was just then getting it.
Kurogane silently offered thanks to the gods. He had refused to give any more lessons if his pupil couldn’t even grasp the simple concept of saying his name correctly. It had been two weeks of Fai trailing after him and reciting every damn nickname he could make up in that twisted mind of his.
“Yes.” Kurogane said. “Lesson two.” He pointed to Fai. “Idiot.”
“Idiot.” Fai repeated seriously, pointing to himself.
Kurogane thought, This might be some fun after all.
* * *
Jalen walked Fai through the palace, pointing things out and saying their names as he gave Fai the tour.
Jalen was a much more patient teacher than Kurogane had been, but Kurogane had been a much more fun teacher, Fai thought wistfully.
A few minutes later, Tomoyo appeared next to them.
Fai wondered if Kurogane had taught her how to walk silently as a ninja, or if she had learned the ability on her own. Either was possible, he thought.
“Good morning, Tomoyo-hime,” Jalen said.
“Good morning, Jalen-san. Fai-san.”
“Good morning, Tomoyo-chan.”
Tomoyo smiled, and Fai knew instantly that he liked her.
“Fai-san, would you like to join me for breakfast?”
“Yes. I would like-very much.”
“Jalen-san, I will send for you after breakfast, so you may continue Fai-san’s education.”
“Yes, princess.”
Tomoyo led Fai to a small, cozy room with a low table. They sat and ate mostly in silence. When they were both done and the dishes cleared away except for their teacups, Tomoyo spoke.
“Are you doing-well, so far?”
“I am-” Fai stopped, frustrated at not having the rights words immediately at his disposal. “Alright.”
Tomoyo nodded. “Were the books I sent you of help?”
“Yes. I thank you.”
“And Jalen-san is a good teacher?”
“Yes. You are very kind, Tomoyo-chan.”
Tomoyo wanted to say that she was only doing what she thought anyone should do to help in this situation, but she thought that might be too complex a sentence for the present time.
“Good.” She took a sip of her tea. “I thought you and Jalen-san would get along well.”
“Jalen-kun seems ... nice.”
“Yes.” Tomoyo smiled. Then her face turned serious. “I did ask you here for more than small talk, Fai-san.”
Fai nodded.
“I thought you would like to know.” She set her teacup down. “I had a talk with Yuuko yesterday.”
Fai looked down, braving himself to ask the question he was afraid to hear the answer to. “Kurogane wished to forget me, did not he?”
“No.” Tomoyo replied, surprise evident in her voice. “He wished to follow you.”
“Follow ...?” Fai repeated the word in confusion. “Follow means ... He went-after, to where I went? He wished ...?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he wish-?”
The look Tomoyo gave him suggested that surely he was not that stupid. “His memory of you was his payment.”
“Oh, hells.” Fai cursed, not even realizing he had spoken in his own language. “How-how ... That is repeated?”
“Redundant?” Tomoyo supplied. “It seems Kurogane said the same thing to Yuuko. She does not appreciate that word.”
“But I was-here then. Yuuko-san told him not ...?”
“She said that would be interfering with the integrity of the wish.” Tomoyo said slowly, watching Fai’s face to make sure he understood the words she used. “I can ... understand what she meant.”
Her voice indicated that ‘understand’ did not necessarily mean ‘like’.
“His wish would not have been the same if he had known.”
Yes, Fai thought. If Kurogane had known. If Kurogane had only said something to me when I gave him the chance ...
Sarcasm edged Tomoyo’s voice, “Yuuko said that he should be grateful, that this way both of his wishes were filled.”
Fai laughed once, sharp and bitter. “It is ... much like one wish for the payment of ... one and one.”
Tomoyo sighed. “I am not always in agreement with Yuuko. But I do not think she meant to trick anyone.”
Tomoyo remembered what Yuuko had said yesterday, that it was not her fault that Kurogane and Fai had communication issues. Yuuko had added that really, they were both a bit stupid, weren’t they?
“How could he ...?” Fai exhaled harshly, dropping his head and covering his eyes with both hands. “How could he ... exchange his memory of me? He saw how Syaoran-kun-was in pain, when Sakura-chan forgot him.”
“Syaoran-kun and Sakura-chan are together now, are they not?” Tomoyo pointed out. “Did they not find their way back to each other?”
“Yes. But Syaoran-kun and Sakura-chan had loved-themselves? For much time before Sakura-chan lost her memory.”
“Fai-san ...”
Fai realized the teacups were rattling. He took a breath and centered himself again, and the rattling stopped abruptly.
It had been a long time since he had been so upset that he lost control of his magic.
“I am sorry.”
Tomoyo asked quietly, “Did you never tell him you love him?”
“I told him ... with each language I can speak.” His voice was very soft, and weighed with regret. “But ... never in the one ... he spoke.”
“Then can you really be angry that you have another chance?” Her voice was gentle, even though the words were not. “Does it mean so little to you, what he sacrificed for you?”
Fai looked down, feeling properly chastised. Tomoyo was right. What Kurogane had lost-for both of them-had been given up so that they would not lose all chance to find each other again.
And he had just as much fault in this as Kurogane did. Kurogane had had a chance to say something to him, but Fai had had that chance as well. And why had he not said something, even if he had thought Kurogane would not care? He’d had nothing to lose; Fai had thought he would never see Kurogane again after he left the Witch’s place.
Well, that was still partly true. He would never see that same Kurogane again, the one he had journeyed with and teased and been chased by. That Kurogane was gone.
This Kurogane had no memory of him. This Kurogane was the same, but different.
This Kurogane was a second chance.
Even so, the knowledge of what he had lost was fresh, painful and sharp.
“A most ... wise woman you are, Tomoyo-hime.”
Tomoyo smiled a little sadly, as if her thoughts were similar to his. “Kurogane may not entirely remember the lesson I wished for him to learn-for I believe, you were a large contribution to that lesson-but he did learn it. That knowledge is still a part of him.” She paused. “Just as you are still a part of him, even though ...”
“Though he has no memory of me.” Fai’s hand closed over a teacup when it began to rattle, and he made himself calm down again. “I am sorry.”
“Do not worry. I would not expect this to be easy for you.”
Fai was staring, eyes unfocused and far away. “I do suppose, if you can call it a-” His eyebrows furrowed together, “better look?”
“Bright side.”
“A bright side. That he did not wish to forget me.”
“No. He did not wish to forget you.”
* * *
Kurogane should have known it would be a bad idea to teach Fai his language.
Fai took some kind of perverse pleasure in being able to point at things whenever he liked and have Kurogane name them. And his creative pantomime was even more annoying. At this current point in time, Fai was like some kind of demented toddler, not yet able to speak in complete sentences but quite able to avoid you when you wanted to smack him.
At least, Kurogane had to admit, Fai was a decent enough artist and his hand at kanji was not bad.
“This?” Fai asked, waving his arm around in the air to indicate the sky.
“I already told you the word for sky.”
Fai shoved the sheaf of paper (that now accompanied them everywhere) at him. “The-”
“Kanji. Alright.” Kurogane drew the character quickly.
“Pretty,” Fai said, tracing it out a few times. “Sky.”
“Blue.”
“Buh-Buh-loo ...?” Fai repeated slowly, as if he was trying to wrap his lips around the word.
“Blue. The sky, blue. Your eyes are blue.” He paused. “Well, were blue.”
Fai was frowning at his mouth as if he was speaking another language. Which, Kurogane had to admit, was pretty much the truth.
Kurogane sighed, pointing above them. “The colour of the sky-is blue.” He pointed to Fai’s eyes, now an inky, unfamiliar black. “The colour of your eyes-is blue.” he said, dropping the “supposed to be” he wanted to add before “blue” for the sake of less confusion.
Fai looked strangely flattered. “Blue,” he repeated, more certainly now. “Colour, blue. Pretty sky.”
Suddenly Fai leaned over and gave Kurogane a kiss on the cheek. “What is that?”
“That’s my question!” Kurogane growled, rubbing his cheek. “What the hell was that?”
“What is-word?”
“A kiss.” Kurogane responded automatically, and instantly regretted it. “Why do you need to know the word for kissing? You won’t be kissing anyone here.”
Fai smiled, that smile that Kurogane had come to expect meant bad, bad things.
“Kiss. Kissing. I like ... the word. Kiss kiss kiss! Kissing. Ears say fun!”
“You mean, ‘That sounds fun.’”
“That ... sounds ... fun.” Fai repeated slowly, testing the words on his tongue. “Kissing sounds fun?” he asked.
“If you say so.”
Fai nodded. That was not quite the answer he was trying for, but since Kurogane did not correct his sentence he supposed he had worded it properly.
“Kissing sounds fun.” he murmured. Then he held the paper out to Kurogane again. “Here-the-?”
“Kanji. Right.”
* * *
Kurogane had spent most of the day inspecting the palace and making sure the security measures were still being held up to his exacting standards. He was relatively satisfied, the system of security that he had arranged from before his-departure-had seemed to run like a well-oiled machine in his absence.
Tomoyo had told the Guard that Kurogane had gone on a “vacation”.
His second in charge, Gareth, had been acting as High Ninja of the Guard in his absence. Gareth had welcomed him back from his “vacation”, said that he had deserved a rest (Kurogane had sighed at that, his “vacation” had been anything but restful), and asked where he had been all that time.
Kurogane was not quite happy with people thinking he had been on a vacation, to him it seemed to imply that he could not handle his position, or that he did not have the respect for his job that he should have. But the alternative being the truth, and the truth being that Tomoyo had sent him off like an errant pet who had displeased its master, Kurogane had decided that “vacation” was a sufficient story.
With the palace security checked off his mental list, the next thing Kurogane wanted to inspect was the Guard. Which he would be doing now, but the Guard had schedules to keep. He would have to set a scheduled time for an inspection, and it would probably have to be next week.
Now, Kurogane was inspecting the grounds, on the lookout for anything suspicious. He realized this was probably a little bit much, but he did not have much else to do for the remainder of the afternoon, and it never hurt to be an extra bit careful.
When he was finished, he headed for his favourite spot by the lake. It was on the far side, sheltered by a large rock and shaded by tall trees. It was quiet there, and a little bit wilder than the rest of grounds because the gardeners had a tendency to overlook it.
Kurogane stopped in surprise as he came around the large rock. “You’re here.”
Fai was laying on his stomach in the grass, bare feet in the air, with a book open in front of him. “I-here.” he said slowly, sitting up.
Kurogane grunted, a bit annoyed at not having the solace he sought. But he was somehow unwilling to ask the strange man to leave. He leaned against the tree trunk, finding the spot where the bole fit his back just right. He was glad that was still the same.
Fai observed the familiar way Kurogane was leaning, and smiled. “This is your ... pet tree?”
“Favourite tree?”
“Favourite tree ...”
Fai had hoped to wait until the language came easier to him to talk to Kurogane again. He wanted to have the words first. But as soon as he saw Kurogane, he could not resist the chance.
Kurogane shrugged one shoulder, “I like this tree.” he muttered, not sure why he said that to a total stranger. One of his hands found the scratchy place on the bark that he liked, rubbing absently.
“I might-let you two alone?”
“What?!”
Fai was smiling at him. “If you love, outside does not matter. You should not deny your heart.”
It took Kurogane a minute to figure out what the strange man was trying to say. “I’m not in love with the tree.”
“You have-known? About her heart?”
Kurogane really had no idea what that was supposed to mean. “Trees have branches, not hearts.”
Fai was frowning up into the branches now. “You now have hurt Esmeralda’s heart.”
“Who’s Esmeralda?”
“The tree.”
“You named the tree?”
Fai blinked at him as if that was a silly question. “No. She told me her name.”
Kurogane sighed and closed his eyes, wondering how he got into this insane conversation. “Trees don’t talk, either.”
“You have ever tried hearing?” Fai questioned slowly, smiling again. “You maybe have never heard trees talk because you do not believe trees talk.”
“Maybe I’ve never heard them because trees don’t talk.”
“Trees maybe do not want to talk to you.”
Fai sounded serious, but Kurogane had the distinct impression the man was trying to tease him.
“Worry-not.” He waved a hand. “You miss, not much. Trees do not have much to talk, most time.”
Fai was looking up into the branches, smiling. The leaves were rustling in a light wind, and Kurogane thought for just a second that he might have heard laughter.
After a moment, Fai continued. “Well. Her name was Esmeralda, in her last time.”
Kurogane did not want to ask. Kurogane would not ask.
Kurogane asked, “And what’s her name now?”
Fai looked at him oddly, as if everyone knew the answer to that. “Tree.”
“The tree’s name is Tree?”
“All trees names are Tree. Trees have not one to give them another name when they are new.”
Kurogane was starting to wonder if this very strange man was an escaped mental patient Tomoyo had taken pity on.
Fai flopped back down onto the grass, this time on his back, and closed his eyes against the sunlight streaming down on him. “I imagine it to be a very nice time to be a tree. All stoic and content. Sunlight and water, and their time is happy.”
“Until someone chops them down.” Kurogane commented.
“Yes. That would be a sad time.” Fai rolled over again, resting his chin on crossed arms and looking up at Kurogane. “You might know, Esmeralda is not much happy with you time now. You might tell her you did not mean, about chopping.”
Kurogane shook his head. This conversation was becoming epic proportions of ridiculous. “I’m not going to apologize to the tree.”
But he looked up into the branches and tried to direct the thought to the tree, I have no intention of letting anyone cut you down.
Fai smiled, as if he knew that Kurogane had spoken to the tree anyway. “She likes you too. She says she thought of you while you were here not.”
Kurogane grunted. He sat down with his back against Esmeralda, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Arms crossed, eyes closed; he hoped for a bit of quiet.
Fai seemed to understand, because he went back to reading his book.
For awhile, the only sounds were the occasional turning of a page and the lazy breeze stirring the leaves.
Kurogane opened his eyes to slits. The other man had changed out of his foreign white clothes and was now wearing a plain set of gray robes, the kind the palace servants wore. Even so, he would still stand out against everyone else in the palace with his pale skin, blond hair and blue eyes.
His feet were up in the air again, swaying lazily, toes curling around toes. There was late afternoon sunlight in his hair, making it blaze like gold. His bright blue eyes-intelligent eyes, Kurogane thought-were focused on the book in front of him. And he was biting his lip in concentration.
Kurogane thought there seemed something sad about him.
Fai glanced up and caught Kurogane staring at him, and grinned. Kurogane looked away with a grumble.
“You can know me.” Fai said.
Kurogane raised one eyebrow. “I can know you?”
“You can ... talk. I answer.”
“I can ask you.” Kurogane corrected.
“Yes. You can ask me.”
“What am I supposed to ask you?”
Fai replied with a sly smile, “What you think that has you stare at me.”
Kurogane cut his eyes away quickly. “I’m not staring at you.”
“Hm.”
Well, the strange man had given Kurogane permission to ask, which meant he did not have to employ subterfuge or assert his rank to get answers. Even if Tomoyo trusted this stranger-for reasons unknown to Kurogane-it still bothered him to have such an unknown element in such close proximity to his princess. Granted, Tomoyo’s judgment when it came to who to trust was quite astute, and that knowledge put his mind somewhat at ease.
Kurogane figured it was part of his job to ask questions and collect information, just as much as it was part of his job to observe people in silence and know how to use a sword.
Also, Kurogane was curious about the strange man.
“So what’s your story?”
“My ... story?”
Kurogane crossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Where did you come from? How did you get here? Where are you going?”
Fai looked away, uncomfortable under the sudden, intense scrutiny. “So much asking, Kuro-tan.” he murmured.
Kurogane knew he should be annoyed by the nickname, more annoyed than he was. But more prominent than the annoyance was a flash of familiarity-and affection.
“What the hell?”
“Something is-good not?”
“It’s nothing.”
But just for a second, he caught a look in Fai’s eyes that made him think that the blond man had a fair idea of the confusing thoughts in his mind. A blink, and it was gone.
“Hm.” Fai flipped over onto his back again. Blades of grass stuck up through his long blond hair and tickled at his ears. “My story.” He closed his eyes, his voice low and somewhere far away. “I came from a place very, very far from this place. A place very-not like here. It was never warm there.” His fingers moved lazily through the grass, touching dirt. “It is a place I will never return to.”
Kurogane knew there was something more to it than that. “It was a different world?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ve met the Time-Space Witch.”
“Yes.”
“So that’s how you got here.”
“Yes.”
A beat.
“And who are you running from?”
Fai was not surprised that even without a memory of him, Kurogane could still see right through him.
“The king of the world that I am from. If he becomes awake, he will not be much happy with me. Because I am who put him ... inside the sleep.”
Although, here, with the sun bright and hot and shining on him cheerfully, with his toes in the dirt and grass in his hands, and Kurogane still asking him questions, it was easy for Fai to pretend that the cold, white world and the cold, beautiful king he had left behind were nothing but a very distant dream, unable to hurt him.
“If you’re from another dimension, how is it that you speak my language?”
“I ... had the ... lessons? Once, when I was ... lost for-time, with a one from your world. I am good with languages, so I learned the basics of it much quick.” Here he laughed a little, reminiscently. “I suppose he taught me only because my language annoyed him.”
“Someone from my world?” Kurogane asked, getting the feeling that there was something missing from this story, that there was something he should know.
Fai sat up abruptly. He sighed. Then he looked Kurogane in the eye and said, “A friend.”
“What’s his name?”
Fai was quiet for a long moment, a sad look on his face. “He does not exist anymore.”
Kurogane tilted his head, wondering if that was more bizarre word substitution. “He’s dead?”
“Dead?” Fai repeated.
“His life-his time-ended.”
Fai hesitated over this question, unsure how to answer. “In a way.”
Kurogane raised an eyebrow. “He’s either dead or he’s not.”
Fai shook his head, wanting to say that it was not that simple. “I will ... never see him again. So, in that way he is-dead.”
The question came out, and it surprised Kurogane. “Are you running from him too?”
“I suppose I was.” Fai said softly, voice very sad. “You are true.”
Something about that sadness felt so familiar to Kurogane. “Are you sure we’ve never met before?”
“No.” Fai shook his head. “The time first you saw me was-time in Tomoyo-hime’s hall.”
Which was true, in its own way.
“For answer to where I am going ... I must-complete your language, before I will decide.”
Fai hoped he could find some kind of work to do in the palace, he hoped to stay as near to Kurogane as possible. Surely they could use an extra pair of hands to help with the cleaning or to do small errands, he could help cook, and he had a clever hand at fixing things that were broken.
“What did you do before, in your world?”
Fai squared his shoulders and his posture straightened, becoming more like the way the members of royal courts held themselves. But he said the words without any pride, “I was the Royal High Mage of the kingdom of Celes.”
“We have magicians here, too.”
“I do not do magic time now.” Fai replied without hesitation.
“Why not?”
“The Dimension Witch took my-marking for my payment, and I made a ... a ...”
“Promise?” Kurogane suggested.
“A promise? Time past to never use my magic with it not.”
“Your marking?”
“You say it maybe ... skin design?”
Kurogane frowned, wondering. “A tattoo?”
“A tattoo ...?” Fai flipped through the book in front of him, murmuring, “T ... a ... t ...”
Kurogane realized the book was a dictionary.
Kurogane also dismissed the ‘escaped mental patient’ possibility. This man was smart, very smart. He did not have the best grasp of the language yet, and Kurogane could sense his frustration with the limitation. He could also sense that this man would be very well-spoken, with words chosen carefully to express exactly what he wished to say, when he had learned the all the nuances of the language.
“Tattoo. Yes, a tattoo.”
“What was so special about it?”
Fai sighed, a long slow exhalation. Then he seemed to unfold gracefully back onto the ground, eyes closing again. “... One day I will tell you.” he promised to Kurogane.
And Fai promised to himself that one day he would tell Kurogane everything that Kurogane had asked and never gotten an answer to in their last life together.
“But not time now.”
“What kind of an answer is that?” Kurogane questioned, voice dark.
“It is not.” Fai smiled a little. “But have I been very ... answer giving? To your ... interrogation thus far, I have not?”
Kurogane bristled at the use of the word ‘interrogation’, somehow sure that the word was the one Fai had meant to use. He felt slightly insulted. After all, the man had given him permission to ask questions. And he thought he had been rather polite about it.
Kurogane said gruffly, “Tomoyo-hime seems to have found reason to trust you. I haven’t.”
“I understand, Kuro-ki. You do only your loyalty.”
But Fai wondered how much of Kurogane’s current mistrust of him was because he did not remember him, and how much was an impression leftover from the time when Fai would not answer his questions.
* * *
Fai laid a hand at the center of Kurogane’s chest. “What is this?”
“My chest.”
“What is-” He poked, “under chest?”
“Hmm? Oh. Inside my chest. My heart.”
“Heart. Heart does ... bump?”
“Beat. A heart beats.”
“Heart. Beats. Heart beats inside chest?”
“Yes.”
“Heart ... does ...?”
Fai was frustrated. Kurogane cracked one eye open.
Fai gestured from Kurogane’s heart to his own. “Heart-does?”
Kurogane felt his own heartbeat quicken-whether in panic or excitement or fear or hope, he didn’t know.
“Love. A heart loves.”
“Love. A heart loves,” Fai repeated slowly.
Kurogane didn’t know why, but Fai sounded sad.