Disclaimer: CLAMP understands the concept of "fanfiction" only too well.
Pairings: Possible trace amounts of Kurogane/Fai; Sakura/Syaoran is a given.
A/N: This chapter reads a bit better with a working knowledge of the xxxHOLiC cast, but if you haven't read it, it's not desperately important; Fai doesn't know what Yuuko's talking about either. As always, much thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Kurogane's mood had improved marginally with a night's sleep, which is to say that when he awoke to find that Mokona had crawled into his bedding in the middle of the night and was currently cuddled up under his chin, he only flung the manjuu across the room instead of kicking it out the door and slamming down the bolt, as was his first impulse (the fact that he wasn't entirely certain whether the bolt still worked may or may not have been a factor). The manjuu barely twitched, nuzzling into the furry rug and sleepily mumbling something about giant squid before settling back down. Sakura, who had woken up when Mokona ricocheted off her stomach, poked it experimentally for a moment before declaring that Moko-chan had worked hard yesterday, letting them have such a long conversation, and that they should let it sleep in.
Sakura was as cheerful as ever, and Syaoran was never too preoccupied to smile at her whenever she spoke to him, but breakfast was still quiet and low-key without Mokona trying to steal Kurogane's food and the wizard stirring up general chaos wherever he could manage it. Instead of enjoying the reprieve, however, Kurogane found himself more paranoid than usual, force of habit making him tense up at random intervals in anticipation of a sudden noise that would get him to turn around for the instant it took for his bowl to miraculously vanish or for an abrupt force-feeding of something nauseatingly sweet; it was ruining what he knew could quite possibly be the only peaceful meal he was ever going to get on this journey. Obviously this was the wizard's fault as well - that guy couldn't even be gone without being conspicuous about it - but it was something closer to the usual sort of annoyance, familiar enough to further dull the edge of his anger.
That didn't mean he liked the situation any better, though, and while there was no point in protesting - much as he hated to admit it, the damned wizard was right; they didn't have much choice in the matter - he silently glowered his opinion whenever Sakura brought up the castle, chattering away happily about wanting to see where Fai-san lived. He was busy scowling at the way the princess was bustling around, trying her best to fit all the clothes and bedding back into the wardrobe (the clothes and bedding appeared to be enjoying their newfound freedom, however, and were rather loathe to give it up; at this point, the two sides seemed about evenly matched) when Syaoran, who had been busy making sure that they had pulled enough coats for each of them from the pile, came over to where he was leaning against the wall. "Kurogane-san?" he asked tentatively.
"Ah?" Kurogane drawled, not paying much attention. The princess was putting up a valiant struggle. So was the mass of fabric.
"I know you don't believe everything Fai-san said last night, or at least, that you think he left out things we ought to know," Syaoran began awkwardly, keeping his voice low and glancing over at the princess to make sure that she was still occupied and that she hadn't been smothered by an especially enthusiastic blanket. "And I know that Fai-san is good at lying, and that he's hiding a lot of things -" Kurogane shot him a distinctly unimpressed look, and the kid flushed and got on with it. "What I mean is that even so, I think that we should trust Fai-san, that's all. I don't really understand him," he admitted, somewhat ruefully, "but every time I'm worried or upset, he knows exactly what's bothering me and what I need to hear. He's always helped us out before, and even if the circumstances are a little different this time, I think that he'll still help in any way he can," Syaoran finished firmly, looking up at Kurogane with that particularly serious, determined expression that, as far as the ninja was concerned, usually meant that things were about to get unnecessarily complicated.
Kurogane did have to admit that the kid's rampant idealism was impressive, in a "how-the-hell-are-you-still-alive?" sort of way, but it wasn't terribly convincing. "That guy only helps when he gets something out of it," he grunted, looking back to the princess and hoping that the kid would take the hint.
Unfortunately, body language was apparently not one of the many Syaoran was fluent in - either that, or he'd been spending too much time with the wizard and had picked up on his talent for ignoring anything more subtle than the threat of imminent dismemberment. The boy shook his head, frowning. "Fai-san fought for me in Hanshin, even though he didn't really have to, and he gave up his staff in Koryo so we could break into the Ryanban's castle."
"The only reason he did that was so we wouldn't try and make him use his own magic," Kurogane snapped. "Besides, you're forgetting that he suggested we kidnap that brat first."
"Fai-san came from a different world than either of ours," Syaoran said quietly. "He's used to doing things in a different way. But he's a good person. I don't know exactly what he said to you last night, but you think so too, Kurogane-san, or you wouldn't have gotten so angry at him."
It was probably a coincidence that right about then, the mass of fabric saw an opening and went in for the kill, prompting Sakura to let out a muffled squeak as she lost her balance and was rather abruptly and unceremoniously buried. It was also possible that Sakura's luck extended to keeping the person she loved alive long enough for her to realize that she loved him. Either way, Syaoran quickly broke off what was developing into a rather intense staredown with one last significant look and ran over to help her, leaving Kurogane to seethe by himself and resolve to keep a closer eye on the kid in the future. He was obviously entirely too impressionable to leave with the wizard unattended; bad enough that the idiot's nosiness and inability to keep his mouth shut were starting to rub off, but if the kid slipped and called him "Kuro-rin" so much as once, he was going to tear both their tonsils out, and then he'd have to stand there and pretend to be paying attention when the princess scolded him for it.
"Dimension Witch-saaaaan!" Fai called, knocking politely on a door chosen at random before poking his head through. It was, generally speaking, a very bad idea to wander around the house of a powerful magic user when one was not thoroughly well-versed in all of said magic user's little quirks and eccentricities, which usually carried over into the various forms of security; goodness knows Fai knew that well enough, considering how often guests tended to stop by his chambers without waiting for a formal invitation. They usually didn't even have the decency to clean up after themselves - well, not that they could, really (not afterwards, anyway, and the only truly effective preventative measure would be for them not to come at all; Fai was evidently in the minority for preferring this option), but it was the thought that counted, and the wizard sincerely doubted that it would have occurred to them. Even so, he was fairly certain that the house knew he was the Witch's guest, and as long as he didn't consider doing anything that might result in his not being a guest any more, it seemed inclined to be mildly sympathetic toward him; at any rate, if he managed to look pathetically lost enough, doors tended to lead to the places he wanted to go even when he was reasonably certain they had just lead somewhere else a minute earlier.
This time was no exception; the door opened to what Fai assumed to be the main room of the shop, wide and empty aside from a low table, an elaborate sofa, and a foot dangling over the arm of the sofa. "'Yuuko' is fine," the Witch said languidly as Fai approached.
Fai nodded, pleased (as impressive a title as "Dimension Witch" was, it didn't exactly flow well). "I brought the elixir you asked me to make, Yuuko-san," he explained, setting a small bottle on the table and stepping back a few paces.
"Mmm?" Yuuko glanced over at it briefly. "Oh. Good," she said flatly. She was lying on her stomach with her head resting on her arms, staring inconsolably in the direction of an empty wineglass.
Fai thought it better to take the hint before she felt the need to persuade him. "If you'd like, I could go and-"
"I knew there was a reason I had you stay here!" Yuuko squealed, her ennui gone in an instant as she rolled into a sitting position with a fluid motion that made it patently obvious that the only reason her kimono stayed shut (or rather, stayed in a perpetual state of being half-open) was that she expected it to do so. Fai grinned and bowed before returning the way he came, trusting the house to direct him to the kitchen. "Don't forget the snacks!" Yuuko hollered after him as he gently slid the door shut.
Fai returned several minutes later after an interesting maneuver that involved several body parts not usually associated with holding trays as he attempted to slide the door open again without spilling his load and getting the house drunker than its mistress intended to be. "You," he announced, crouching in front of the table and setting down several bottles, some glasses, and a platter of apple slices carved to look like bunnies, "have almost no food in your kitchen."
"I know," Yuuko agreed with a pout that melted almost instantly as she greedily accepted the glass Fai handed her. "Watanuki's been sick for the last few days, and the housework's been piling up."
"Watanuki?" Fai asked curiously, pouring himself a glass at a gesture from Yuuko and sinking gracefully to the floor in what passed for him as a sitting position.
Yuuko smiled over the rim of her glass with a fond expression that Fai thought looked oddly maternal. "My part-time help - you saw him when you came the first time. He brought the Mokonas out."
Fai had an excellent memory for faces (he was a firm believer in the idea that a little paranoia was a healthy thing, and there was nothing quite like casually bringing up where a person had been and who they'd been with the night before in the middle of being introduced to said person to make him feel as though he were doing his part to cultivate it), and the mention of Mokona conjured a mental image of a slightly bewildered-looking boy with dark hair and glasses. "Is he working to pay for a wish?"
"Mmm," Yuuko nodded. "He requested that I take away his ability to see spirits."
"Really?" Fai asked, leaning forward in interest. "Sakura-chan can see spirits as well, but we've always found it very helpful. She certainly never seems troubled by it."
"How troublesome spirits are depends on the person involved," Yuuko pointed out, absent-mindedly swirling the liquid in her glass. "Sakura-chan's power is strong enough to shield her from all but the strongest outside forces unless she chooses to engage them, consciously or subconsciously. Watanuki's power calls spirits to him and allows him to see them, but it can't protect him; if the spirits are persistent, he will be forced to deal with them, whether he chooses to do so or not."
"I see..." Fai murmured, storing the information away for future reference. "Then his illness now...?"
"Is a cold," Yuuko confirmed, smirking. "He lives by himself, so I had thought of sending you over to take care of him, but..."
"But?" Fai prompted.
"Well, you wouldn't be able to understand each other outside this house, and I thought it would be just dreadful of me to add such undue stress and aggravation while he's recovering his precious health..." Yuuko sighed, shaking her head in horror at the thought.
"Oh, certainly," the wizard agreed, compassionately and with a straight face.
"So I sent his dear friend Doumeki-kun over instead," Yuuko finished, in a voice that suggested she also routinely worked at soup kitchens and rescued small children from burning buildings.
Fai didn't know who Doumeki-kun was, but something about the number of teeth visible in Yuuko-san's smile made him think that he probably approved of the choice anyway. "How very thoughtful of you," he remarked, refilling both their glasses.
"I would have loved to have gone over myself, but then I would have had to take the price of a house call out of his paycheck, and for some reason he seems to resent that," the Witch grinned, knocking back half the glass in one gulp.
"That reminds me..." Fai mentioned, sipping at his own drink a little more moderately (but with no less enthusiasm; even if he hadn't had any other reason for dimension-hopping, the trip would have been worth it as a wine-tasting tour). "When I was looking for you earlier, I saw Maru-chan and Moro-chan, ah, escorting a young lady out. Was she a customer as well?"
"That woman?" Yuuko leaned back, melting bonelessly into the sofa. "On several occasions."
Fai blinked, a trifle surprised. "Do you have repeat business often? I was under the impression that your services were a little more..."
"The sort of thing you only try if you're absolutely desperate?" Yuuko suggested dryly.
Fai laughed. "Well, I suppose it's less of an occasion if you don't have to jump dimensions every time you have a request, but..."
Yuuko snorted into her glass. "You could say that, yes, but you're correct; it isn't common. That woman has only one wish, but the treatment hasn't been effective."
Well. That did not inspire confidence. Fai had been under the impression that the Dimension Witch was - not omnipotent, of course, but if she could speak that easily about failure, it opened up several uncomfortable possibilities. "Could she not afford the full price of the wish?" he asked offhandedly, keeping his sudden discomfiture out of his voice (although he needn't have bothered; Yuuko smirked at him anyway).
The Witch didn't answer immediately, though, swishing her wine and watching it slosh against the sides of the glass. "That depends on how you look at it," she said at last, just as Fai was beginning to try and think of a more subtle way of finding out what he wanted to know. "She was willing to pay me what I asked."
"Was there someone else she needed to pay as well, then?" Fai asked, instinctively relaxing his voice and body language to display only a polite level of interest.
"Herself," Yuuko shrugged. At Fai's uncomprehending look, she elaborated (and while her expression was properly neutral, Fai had the distinct impression that she would have been terribly disappointed if he had deprived her of the opportunity to lecture). "People come to our shop wanting to buy solutions to their problems, but that's not necessarily what we sell."
"Rather, you sell people the means to grant their wishes for themselves," Fai noted, watching her intently.
"Exactly." The Witch seemed pleased. "It depends on the wish, of course, but most people who are desperate enough to come to me can't afford what it would cost for me to just 'make everything better', even assuming that's something I could do. I provide services equal to a price they can pay, and usually that's enough. It's human nature to survive in any way that one can, and once pointed in the right direction, most people can figure out what they need to do to keep existing.
"Some people, though," Yuuko continued, voice as smoky and heavy as the incense that permeated every inch of the house, "won't act for themselves, whether because they don't understand their situation or because they simply refuse it. But because of those survival instincts, they'll fight to keep things from getting worse for them, even as they themselves stand in the way of making any actual improvement in their circumstances. They'll keep offering more and more to anyone or anything they think might help, just to stay in the same place." The Witch's voice curled around Fai, but instead of having a hypnotic effect, it seemed to jolt him into a painful hyper-awareness. "Eventually, they'll end up paying much more than they would have been willing to give up if it had been a single agreement, without actually achieving anything at all."
Yuuko paused briefly, then shrugged and gulped down the rest of her drink. "At any rate, I can't do anything more for that woman. She'll either realize it for herself or she won't."
"I see," Fai murmured. "Thank you for the explanation." He stared into his glass for a moment before draining it, then unfolded his long limbs and stood up. "It's getting late. I should go to bed."
"I suppose it is, isn't it?" Yuuko said complacently, looking unbearably smug. "Ah, before you go..." She reached into her kimono and pulled out a piece of paper.
"Another elixir?" Fai asked without much curiosity. He accepted the slip automatically, his mind elsewhere.
"If you're tired of that, I'm sure I could come up with something more interesting for you to pay with..." Yuuko trailed off suggestively, giving him a sidelong look.
Fai snapped abruptly back to the present. "Oh? And what did you have in mind?" he demurred, voice dropping to match hers.
"Hmm..." Yuuko paused, trailing one slender finger along her lower lip as she contemplated it. "In my bedroom..."
"Yes?" Fai encouraged.
"I think..." Yuuko continued slowly, catching Fai's gaze and holding it, "...that my laundry is evolving sentience."
"I wouldn't dream of depriving you of its company," Fai said brightly, then bowed. "The elixir it is, then. Goodnight, Yuuko-san."
Yuuko pouted admirably for a minute before her lips curved up into a smile and she waved him away. "Sleep well." She reached over to the tray of apple bunnies, forgotten earlier in her eagerness to get the alcohol started in her system, but her fingers abruptly stilled as the snacks actually registered for the first time. "Fai?" she called, stopping the wizard with his hand on the door.
"Yes, Yuuko-san?" Fai's voice was fluffy kittens frolicking in the sunshine.
Yuuko eyed the tray warily. "What are those... three... apple bunnies doing? Together?"
Fai smiled beatifically.
Watanuki stopped by Yuuko's shop the next morning on his way to school, still coughing; he really could have used another day's rest, but there was no way he was going to spend another day in bed imagining all the ways that jerk Doumeki could be taking advantage of Himawari-chan (his darling Himawari-chan, so sweet and innocent that she couldn't think badly of anyone, not even Doumeki - not that any girls thought badly of Doumeki, which only made him even more insufferable), only to have said jerk show up after school to lord it over him, shove the nastiest cold medicine possible down his throat, and offer in that infuriatingly bland voice to help him wash off (it was obviously too much to ask for Doumeki to quit making fun of him just because he was sick, and the reminder that he was dripping with sweat had made him desperate to get clean with no dignified way of doing it; that was probably just what the jerk had intended). There was also no way that he was going to admit that he'd felt better the instant Doumeki stepped in the room and the half-dozen spirits hovering over him in hopes of exploiting his weakened state had rather abruptly departed. Watanuki knew better than to hope to catch Yuuko-san awake at that hour (when she didn't have any particular incentive, at any rate, such as having coerced him into making breakfast) to rant at her about her interpretation of employee health care plans, but he had a sinking feeling that he was going to be in for a very long first day back at work, and he wanted to inspect the damage now rather than have to anticipate it for the rest of the day.
Watanuki wasn't disappointed; it was obvious that no one had bothered to actually pick up after themselves or anything since he'd been sick. Even the remains of what appeared to be last night's drinking party were still out; glasses and bottles were scattered across the floor (thankfully empty), as were the dried-out remains of a bunch of apple slices - bunnies? - that someone had evidently been playing with and had left in piles around the room. Clucking his tongue in annoyance, Watanuki collected the empty glasses and bottles and dragged them off to the kitchen, keeping up a steady litany of complaints aimed at no one in particular the entire way. He returned with a garbage bag and began scooping up the apples before they had a chance to attract insects. If he noticed anything... unusual about the way the apple bunnies were positioned, he didn't add that to his list of complaints; he had learned a lot working for Yuuko, primarily that anything out of the ordinary that required his attention would be sure to get it one way or another (usually by launching itself bodily at him), and anything he didn't notice was Not His Problem.