Chapter Twelve: Nihon

Three nights. Three days. That was how long he was out. My wounds had healed over in two-thirds of the time. Well, my physical ones, at least. The ones dealt to my heart would just have to heal with time…and wait until he was awake and strong enough to talk it out.

Three nights and days were a long time to contemplate. Which was mainly what I did for the entirety of that time. I comforted Syaoran, I eased Mokona's worry, and I thought to myself. I thought, and thought, and thought. And thought. And thought. And I did come up with an epiphany or two.

Just maybe…if someone like Kurogane…was that desperate…to give up an irreplaceable body part for me…just to keep me by his side…maybe I didn't bring as much misfortune as I thought I did…or maybe…dare I even think it…maybe even if I did bring misfortune…maybe he thought I was worth having anyway.

Maybe.

I couldn't be sure until I was able to ask him all of these queries personally. I wanted him to awaken, but at the same time…I didn't. I knew he'd be fine, even though when we'd first arrived in Nihon I was terrified. Terrified that I was going to lose yet another person and terrified that that would be the final, finishing blow to my heart. And then I was terrified that just as he'd reached his goal…his goal to go home…that he'd die. Not to say I wasn't terrified that he'd live and that he'd stay in Nihon and discontinue the journey with us.

But those three nights and days were also spent thinking about Ashura's last words to me. And Fai's choice. I supposed there never would be an exact, concrete answer to why I lived and they didn't. Nor would there ever be a perfectly logical explanation to why it was me rather than them, or why I was so worth saving. Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was love. I didn't think anyone would know for sure. But I did know that it was time I stopped wallowing about why they had to die…and accepted that they died for me…and I must've been worth dying for.

It didn't mean I didn't think Fai was any less greater—he was that young and he'd been so resolved that his brother should have lived instead of him. And Ashura…the most brilliant king I'd ever known and would ever know…he didn't think that his last loyal subject should waste a single tear over his death…

One amazing boy. One brilliant man. And they'd both shed their lives for me.

I must be worth something at this point. Even more so…considering that another unbelievable man made an enormous sacrifice for me. A ninja needed both arms to fight…he'd be vulnerable if he didn't…I knew Kurogane wouldn't take lightly to relying on me for that much backup during fighting…and my vampire skills almost made up for my lack of magic…maybe…?

Would he be angry with me? Irritated yet again? Fed up that after all that I still was giving this much? What would he do when he found out? Would he hate me even if?

"It's what you do when you love someone. You do things that they might hate you for…even if they hurt you…even if they don't even care about you anymore…"

I smiled and stood up from the edge of the futon, walking calmly to the door of Syaoran's room. I knocked twice, quietly rapping the screen with my knuckles. "Yes?" the young voice answered nervously.

"Syaoran-kun, would it be all right if I borrowed Mokona for a short while?" I requested quietly.

His face appeared in place of the screen. "Sure." He held the plump white creature out to me, and it hopped eagerly into my hands, eyes sad.

"Is Fai okay?" it asked as I carried it back into my room.

I knew better than to lie any more. "Not quite, Moko-chan. But I will be after I have a little talk with Yuuko-san. Think you could do that for me?"

I closed the door behind me and Mokona emitted a happy squeak.

When I emerged, it wasn't the only one smiling contently.

Kuro-tan raises an eyebrow at you. "This is just a warnin', but you might want to take out those tissues y'had a while ago." He looked at me sternly, "It'll get a little wet in here."

They can handle it, I tell him lightly. They've handled the sight of you violating me, after all. My tone is slightly accusing. He scoffs, completely unabashed. "As if you didn't like it, mage. I've never known a single moment when you're not horny as hell."

I blink and quickly turn back to the story.

"Would you like me to go first?" Tomoyo asked. She'd volunteered to take me to him, as she'd had a dream that very night that he would be awaking. I could now see even more clearly why Kurogane had been so attached to coming back to her.

"Thank you," my voice was barely audible, but I managed the tiniest of smiles. But as soon as she'd gone in, I leaned against the outside doorframe, attempting to calm my breathing. I closed my eyes and told myself that even if he regretted it now that the adrenaline had stopped pulsing, that I wouldn't treat him how I'd been treating him ever again. I wouldn't.

And the full name? In words that he himself would've used: Screw that.

I knew the saying about how eavesdroppers would always hear something they didn't want, but I listened through the thin paper screen…and every single thing Kurogane replied with to Tomoyo…only strengthened my resolve. And when Tomoyo summoned me inside…I knew exactly how to begin and what exactly Kurogane deserved more than anything.

After all, he had hit me, hadn't he?

But as those words left my lips—as that name left my lips—there was nothing in the world more valuable than the final look on his face. The expression that said it all. No, it didn't erase the fear of the coming conversation I knew we had to have…but it did erase the fear that no matter what the truth of what he felt was…we'd die comrades at the least…and lovers at the most.

And including my twin, including Ashura…there was nothing else I'd ever wanted more. That said something for and in itself.

It took less than a minute for Tomoyo to smile at us and excuse herself, bowing her head as she left the room. The screen shut itself to a close and I took the seat the priestess had previously occupied. My right leg propped up, elbow resting against my knee…I carefully looked up to meet his gaze.

The grin had gone now, and he was observing me…scrutinizing me. It was a resigned smile—but an honest one—that stayed on my mouth. "You've been out for three days," I said. "Does it hurt?"

"Not much."

"They gave you numbing medicine?"

"S'pose so." His eyes flickered to the ground, and back to my face. "How 'bout your wounds? Doing all right?"

"They're fine. I heal fast."

"Hungry?" he asked. My mouth pulled up into a half-grin. I shook my head. It was so like him to be this blunt…he never had had a single awkward moment in his life, I'd bet.

"Hey," his fingers…his remaining fingers, I should say…trembled a bit…digging into the sheet, "I'm—"

"Don't say sorry," I said. "If you say sorry, I'll go ballistic."

"Then I'll just risk that. Sorry."

I was still watching how he had to fist his only hand to keep it from where it wanted to go. I smiled inwardly and reached over him to take it—he was still so much taller than me that I had to clamber over him, his breath against the top of my head. I remained sitting on his other side…beside the arm he had left. "You should be more honest," I guided his hand to my cheek. "Silly Kuro-tan, don't you know it's bad to keep things to yourself?"

"You should know."

"I should, shouldn't I?" I smiled sadly. His fingers caressed my face, brushing the hair back, and teasing out the piece of cloth that held the blond strands back. "Time for a cut, huh?"

He frowned. "I like it long."

"You saw what I looked like. You want it that long, Kuro-chi?"

"Not that long—that was freaking creepy. This length is fine."

I laughed softly. "My past in one word: creepy. I find that one of the best descriptions I've heard. Not that I've heard any…or at all in that matter. But I guess I'd rather have 'creepy' than you running and screaming…though you wouldn't be able to do much of either in your condition."

"I'm missing an arm, not a leg or a tongue, mage. And since when have I ever screamed?" His hand had returned to his side, and his eyes were burning holes into mine.

I sighed. "Why?"

He echoed my sigh and regarded me solemnly. "Why, huh? You have no idea how many damn times I asked that myself. But maybe dreaming for 'bout three fucking days has got me some answers." His hand touched my head gently, "I never could have any shitting clue what the hell was going on in here." The hand moved to my lips, fingers pressing carefully. "I knew I couldn't trust anything that came out of here." The hand moved to my eye patch. "I wanted like hell's fire to heal the wound here." And it finally came to rest over my chest…over my heart. "But…in the end, I had to settle for fixing the cracks in here."

He'd never have admitted it, but I could see in his expression how he wanted to add: Sorry I couldn't do more.

Was that his next goal? To make me burst into uncontrollable tears? He was doing a pretty excellent job if that were true.

I couldn't do anything but shake my head and laugh. That was all I could do. I just shook my head and laughed—my eye wet and starting to stream over. "I really don't deserve you, do I?" I said. I sounded like a drowning cat.

"I've had 'nough of this crap, mage," he growled, grabbing my chin and tilting it to look him in the eyes. "What's with this 'deserve and don't deserve' shit? 'Cause whatever it is, I'm missing out."

I stopped laughing, and I swiped violently at my eye. "I've lied to you. I've pushed you away. I've led you on. I've blamed my own faults on you. I've hated you. Or at least, tried to. What could I ever do or have ever done to deserve this?"

He scowled, his hand gentling and coming to a rest against my throat, the fingers warm and soothing. "What's 'this'?"

"This," I took his hand away from my throat, threading my fingers through his, "You."

He sighed. "Look. 'M not something to deserve—I'm not a goddamn reward. And there's nothing you can do to deserve anyone, I don't think. Nothin' at all. Only they can choose to give themselves to you. 'S all it is."

"Then why choose me? You don't have very good taste, do you? Choosing a castoff…something worthless and invaluable…thrown away…used…broken of all things."

"There ain't anything wrong with my taste," he said defensively. "And if you say any more about how you're worth nothing shit, I'll go ballistic. If you want something to relate you to price it's this: Priceless. 'S all I got to say."

I smiled. "You're very skilled with flattery, aren't you, Kuro-rin?"

"I'm not one to spin stuff up for the heck of it."

"Never," I agreed. He grinned quickly, but then gravity took over his face. His fingers reached up to touch my mouth, tracing the lips over and over. I parted them…covering his fingertips with my lips, tracing the edges with my tongue. I could feel the blood pulsing through them…my fangs ached to pierce through the flesh…

But I resisted…although…he seemed to know what I was longing for. He always did. "Go ahead," he said. "If you're thirsty." I pulled his fingers from my mouth and looked at him steadily.

"Say, Kuro-sama," I began, "What does it feel like when I drink from you? You've never told me."

"Couldn't really do that when you didn't talk to me, could I?" he snorted. I might've been imagining it…but it looked like he was…blushing. I smiled. I had to know now.

"Tell me?"

He shrugged, scowling away. "Feels pretty damn good. I've read books on vampires 'fore. Says their saliva in a human releases the same endorphins as…as er…as—"

"As sex?" I finished sweetly.

He coughed. "Right. That."

I slid closer to him, and he raised an eyebrow. My hand moved to the side of his face and I tilted my head just the slightest bit. His heart was throbbing at the speed of light in my ears. He knew what was coming. And he wanted it. That made two of us.

It'd been months since our lips had touched. And it felt like eternity when they finally did. My body wasn't the only one that reacted immediately. I was surprised when my hands itched to move on him. I knew that we shouldn't do this when he was still healing. But I was more surprised when his arm remained on the back of my head firmly instead of moving as it usually would've.

He drew away, his eyes half closed and his breath coming out shortly. "Hey…" he said, his voice soft and rough, "That time…in the world with the acid rain…was it better than in Yama?"

Some of you manage to stop crying long enough to go "AWW!!" louder than I've never heard you before. You all stare at Kuro-tan who's determinedly looking away—splashes of red making way through his tan skin.

It's perfectly okay to have no words for this, I tell you all. It wasn't like I did any better at those words. Those words…perfection in sentence form…

I couldn't answer…I didn't know how to answer it. I could only ask another question as a reply, "Why would you…?" My voice was almost pleading. I needed to know how he could ever…want me…love me…why? I would go insane if I didn't know the reason. And if he gave any "because I just do" bullshit—great, now I was picking up on his terminology—I really would hit him again.

"I never regret anything in my life, mage," he said sternly. "You know that. And none of that's changed a single bit."

I still couldn't understand. "But…why?"

"You know, I think I've just about had all that I can take of this." He righted me and then pulled me by the front of the "kimono" robe that Tomoyo had told me to wear while in this world. "Listen up, mage, and listen good. Why the hell do you always ask me 'why'? Why what? Why do I want you? Maybe I want you 'cause you're the most damn fucking beautiful thing I've ever seen in my fucking life.

"Why do I always save you? Maybe it's 'cause I actually give a shit about you and no way in hell do I want to lose you. What else is there? Why don't I give a shit about your past? Maybe because those people were dipshits to have done that to a pair of kids for God's sakes.

"Why do I love you? Maybe because I just do. Maybe because you're a genius who gives the credit to anyone else. Maybe it's because you'd die just to let the clone live. Maybe it's 'cause you kept the Princess from closing in on herself…maybe it's 'cause even though you want to die, you'd live just for the kids. Maybe it's because even though everyone else gets the shit scared out of them when they see me, you're brave enough to come anyway. Maybe because you're wrong about how you're weak and the king was right. Maybe you are just too kind. Maybe it's just because I'm fucking scared to go on with life without you anymore."

His breathing had escalated and I couldn't breathe at all. Our faces were moments away from each other and I could see how true everything he'd just said was by his eyes. I just couldn't believe it, was all. But this was it. Everything. Every reason. He'd finally told me. I'd finally heard.

"Yes," I whispered. "That 'why'."

"All cleared up, then?" He released me, and his hand traced down my spine. The line between involuntary and otherwise was so blurred that I couldn't tell if the shudder was because of temperature…or…well…that.

I bowed my head once in affirmation. He furrowed one eyebrow. "But now I'm curious, mage…" God forbid "…I told you the whole of it…'sn't it only fair that you tell me your end?"

I smiled to myself. "Why would you need reassurance of that? You're different from me. A person could go on for eternity stating why anyone would fall in love with you. There aren't that many going for me."

"State 'em to kill time, then," he yawned. "I'll be stuck in bed for a while. Already have. Might as well do something to pass it."

I knew enough to see past his nonchalance. He really did want to know. That only served to broaden my smile. "You kept hammering through my masks when no one else even bothered to get past the smile," I said simply. "You kept coming back even though all I did was shove you ten paces back. You thought I was worth something—if anything at all."

"I don't 'think', mage. I know."

I leaned my cheek against my palm. "Hmm…you know, I really wouldn't have taken you for one to be this way. Really, never would've thought."

"You aren't the only one," he snorted. "But…shit happens. And this kinda shit ain't half bad." His hand was resting on my thigh. "If you're up for it…"

"Yama was fine," I said, the beginnings of a grin appearing on my face, "Tokyo was nice…but here we have a bed…and a room—"

"Well, no shit," he grinned along with me, his lips just a taste from my own. "I'm pretty good even with only one hand."

"I don't doubt it," I whispered, feeling my sash loosen and his fingers on my skin. I knew that whatever had happened in Tokyo was about to be multiplied hundredfold. There was no doubt now. No suspicion. We could give everything. Even if we lost each other…we'd still have the memories. Nothing. We could lose nothing. But we had everything.

And after that night—after our bodies had been sated—I knew from the look he gave me…trying out his new arm…that he didn't blame me. He wasn't angry. He knew that I knew exactly how much I was worth. Though he also knew that I regretted it took an arm for me to realize it. Even though I knew that he would have given more than that to make me see myself how he saw me.

And throughout our awaiting Sakura and Syaoran to emerge from that dream world…throughout my knowing what had to happen next for the following chapter to unfold…his eyes always trusted. And although we knew that the final battle was uprising…it didn't even matter.

We went on to Clow after Nihon, as you all might know. Where the story began, the story would end. Sakura and Syaoran…there story, I mean. Ours…I suppose ours really ended in the rain…when the Dimensional Witch took my vampirism in exchange for magic…when I gave half my lifespan to Kurogane…when my language was taken in place of understanding his…when we were sent back to his world…

You all complain indignantly about how you want to hear about the final battle. Some of you mutter about "exclusive plot detail". I laugh as Kuro-pii growls. I could most certainly tell you about how it went down. But I did say I'd only tell our epic journey. The final battle? Clow? Fei Wang Reed?

That, m'ladies, is another story.