Read My Soul
28th April 2006
Author's Notes: This draws on certain things that came up in book 13 of the manga, so there are spoilers lurking around here. If you don't mind spoilers, though, this will still make sense even if you haven't read the book. My first foray into Kurogane/Fai – please be kind. Thank you.
Mokona's duties and uses extended beyond just transporting people and detecting feathers. Mokona was observant; Mokona knew when someone needed comfort, needed rest. He had spoken to Yuuko earlier that day, had told her of their strange encounter with the book that filled its blank pages with the life and memories of the person who held on to it, and how Syaoran had inadvertently browsed Kurogane's memories and the tragic deaths that had spurred him to become who he was.
So maybe tonight it was Syaoran and Kurogane who needed the comfort, who needed to sleep in peace, but then again they seemed to have come to their own conclusions on the matter, in their private talk, away from the rest of them. Syaoran was fast asleep beside his precious Sakura-hime, and Kurogane had disappeared with Fai.
Mokona frowned a little. Their little group all had problems, all had issues, but at least for the children they were easily read. Syaoran had nothing but concern for his Sakura, and Sakura had worry over her lost memories and those disturbing gaps that she strove to remember but failed to. Mokona could soothe that and give them the peace of sleep, leaving Syaoran rested and ready to face another day, leaving Sakura cheerful and optimistic about the future.
But Kurogane and Fai were a little different. Kurogane was more guarded, was more difficult, but then again whatever troubles that Kurogane had were straightforward – Mokona could tell. They were troubles that could be resolved with the swing of a sword, and that was why Kurogane had chosen the ninja's path, despite it being the path of a murderer.
Fai, on the other hand... Mokona had a bad tendency to feel like spitting Fai out every time he swallowed the group. Fai's wounds were poisoned; his soul tasted faintly of rot, sweet like strychnine-laced honey. And yet every time Mokona quashed his revulsion and tried to get to the core of that mess, Fai's own innate barriers kept him shut out. If Kurogane's problem was the blind rage of the animal caught in a trap, Fai's was the soul-rending sorrow of a bird who dare not fly from the open door of the gilded cage.
His thoughts were interrupted by the soft sounds of footsteps, and Mokona carefully cracked one beady black eye open, watching Kurogane and Fai step into the large room they were all sharing that night. The strong tang of the local alcohol wafted in with them; Fai was smiling softly to himself, trailing slightly behind Kurogane.
Or maybe 'softly' was the wrong word, Mokona decided. 'Faintly' was better. Unlike other drunks, whose world blurred as they sank into oblivion, Fai went in the other direction. If anything he seemed clearer and sharper than usual, and his smile was vivid and crystalline as a glass-winged butterfly.
Fai leaned in close to Kurogane and said with a frosted smile, 'Lighten up, Kuro-chan. The kids are already asleep.'
'You'll wake them,' Kurogane answered, bodily hauling the magician towards his mattress. 'And you're freaking drunk.'
'No, I'm a fool,' Fai contradicted, giggling along with the statement. 'You don't like me, do you, Kuro-chan?'
'No, I don't,' Kurogane agreed point-blank, shrugging off his coat.
Mokona wondered if Kurogane had caught sight of the way that slender, elfin face had suddenly crumpled before the glass-sheen settled back over those rosy cheeks and lips, a flawless Noh mask falling down and moulding to those delicate features.
Yes, Kurogane had seen it, ninja that he was. 'It should have been you to hold that book today,' Kurogane observed. 'You need someone to read you.'
Fai laughed, and the ozone scent of bitterness emanating from him was so strong that Kurogane bristled involuntarily. 'No, I don't think so. Syaoran has learnt courage from you; Syaoran appreciates you as a role model and admires you all the more for knowing what happened in your past. He has come away wiser and steadier from your history, Kurogane.
'But I would never let him read my story. I don't want him to have his faith in humanity shattered, because he would not understand it, would not understand the things I've seen or the things I've done, and neither would he be able to accept what was done to me.'
By that time Fai was not looking at Kurogane, he was looking inwards, and his eyes were emotionless shards of pretty blue glass stabbed into the eyeholes of that perfect, pretty mask.
'You told me, Kurogane, that when your mother died you tasted the madness that comes with rage and pain,' Fai continued, the words pattering from his mouth like gemstone hail. 'But there are other types of madness too. I lived madness, Kurogane, I was madness and I was beautiful and strong and everyone feared me and loved me, and maybe I thought he loved me too. I was in love with him then, maybe I am still.'
He raised his head and directed a wan smile at the ceiling. 'No, I don't think I should hold that book. Who would read it?'
Kurogane had watched silently, saying nothing as Fai's tirade wound down to a halt, and the blond man dropped his head, like a child expecting a reprimand, small and curled defensively into himself. Sighing, he inched his way closer, closer, till he was kneeling in front of Fai.
'Look at me,' Kurogane commanded softly. And has he met those blue eyes – blue like the iced river water in frosty winter – he murmured, 'I would read it.'
He held Fai's startled gaze for a long, long moment before the river in those eyes melted and Fai wept silent, limpid tears.
Mokona shut his eyes and squeezed closer to Sakura, hearing the rustle of cloth meeting and the quieter, more intimate touch of skin on skin.
There would be no need for dreamless sleep that night.
Author's Notes: Please review!