Notes: As for previous half. Also, erm, I know the ending is inconclusive and abrupt. It was supposed to be inconclusive and abrupt. Only then on rereading it, I realised it didn't fit nicely, so I added on the random coda. Which didn't help, like, at all. So yeah. *is not happy with ending* Again, I didn't do the etiquette and formalities properly, but just pretend, dammit. And I know that 'oni-san' (ogre, geddit?? *is shot*) and 'onii-san' wouldn't really be a feasible pun in Japanese, but I still think it's funny when read by English-speakers, SO.

I did actually do some research for this, by the way, so if anyone is particularly interested in nerding out over Japanese history, PM me and I'll…e-mail you the notes I took down? Whatever. *laughs at self* Writing fic is SERIOUS BUSINESS, woo. Although if anyone does spot any glaring historical errors, please do point them out. I welcome corrections.

The evenings spent together in the little warm house seemed almost blessed. They were a strange kind of family, sorely lacking in many respects, but more than happy enough in other, more important areas to make up for any shortcomings.

'Welcome home, onii-san!'

'Welcome home, oni-san!'

'What did you just call me?'

'Oh, no! The big bad oni is going to eat me! Save me, Syaoran-kun, save me!'

They had enough food. They had enough firewood. They had good, unimportant conversation. It was enough. It was more than enough.

At night, Syaoran slept screened-off in the warm space in front of the doused fire, for even in summer, the world was chill after dark. In the other half of the house, Fai slept as close to the door as he could, his face lifted even in sleep up to the turning stars, the wind lifting his hair and playing with it as though it were his lover. Kurogane, ever on guard, dozed sitting up. He would fall asleep watching the moonlight slide slowly over Fai's skin, and slip into dreams of light and softness and golden hair that he never quite remembered on waking.

Sometimes they spoke together, late at night: very quietly, and only when they knew that Syaoran was sleeping. Sometimes it was about money, and sometimes about what would happen when they all set off together for the city next spring (which departure date would give them time to get their affairs in order); sometimes it was about old human jokes that Fai had never heard, and sometimes about strange things, about mountains and kings and far-away countries, great rivers and oceans, deserts where horses grew as tall as a house, forests where birds shrunk down as small as a bee: miracles, mysteries.

'I've seen nearly everything,' Fai said once. 'But only from a great distance. That was why I came down.'

'Not much to see here,' Kurogane commented. 'Stones. Earth. People. Goats.'

'I like it.'

'It's not much.'

Fai smiled, and it was genuine and sleepy and, with the light of the moon behind it, and the scent of summer drifting in on the breeze, heartwrenching. 'It's everything,' he said. 'To me. This, to me, is the miracle.'

Kurogane had to look away. 'If you say so,' he said. The ache in his chest was so bad that he could barely breathe.

Fai reached out and touched his fingers to Kurogane's cheek, tipping his face up so that their eyes met properly. 'This,' he said. 'Don't you think?'

He shrugged. He shouldn't have to say it. Fai already knew.

During late summer the days were hot and sticky, and the wind and the dust combined could lead to considerable discomfort.

'No peeking, now!' Fai called from behind the rocks.

Kurogane jumped. He caught sight of wet clothes spread out to dry on a large flat stone nearby, of the old wickerwork basket now laden with bundles of herbs and forest flowers, of bright fluttering hair. 'You haven't drowned yourself yet, then,' he said, loudly, to cover what was not embarrassment at all.

'Not yet,' Fai agreed, shaking out his hair and rubbing it with one wet hand. 'You should come and join me – the water's lovely!'

Kurogane choked.

'Of course, that's not traditional,' Fai continued, blithely, over sounds of splashing water. The back of his head disappeared behind the rocks for a moment, then reappeared, slick now, and darkly gold, curling in tendrils over his shoulders. 'Traditionally you're just supposed to spy on me and be entranced by my beauty.'

'Hurry up and get out of there,' Kurogane snapped, edging a little way around the boulders and trying to keep his feet from crunching too loudly in the sand of the riverbank. 'You can't spend all day getting clean.'

'I could, if certain people would stop shouting at me. Oh, I can see you now. Hello! How are you today?'

Kurogane sat down hurriedly in the lee of a tall stone so that he could not see the river at all, and said, 'I'd be better if you behaved yourself for once.'

'Oh, are you coming to guard me?' Fai asked. 'That's very thoughtful of you.'

'I'm making sure your clothes don't blow away,' Kurogane explained.

'That's also very thoughtful of you.' There was a long yawn, a satisfied groan, and the clicking of bones as Fai stretched loudly. 'I think summer's my favourite season. Although I liked it better when it wasn't so hot. Does it always get like this?'

'I suppose.'

'I liked spring, with all the little new baby things, all the trees and the birds and the little mice, you remember? I don't know why you say mice are a nuisance. It was nice then, nice and warm, and it didn't get hot like this. But I like now, too, because the water's not so cold anymore. I'm excited to see the leaves change. There'll be an early autumn this year, I think, but the winter should be quite mild again. I don't feel a good deal of snow waiting for us.'

'That'll be good.'

'You're not a conversationalist at all, are you?'

Kurogane shrugged.

'Oh, well. Could you pass me the basket, please? It's just out of my reach.'

'Don't know what you need all that stuff for, anyway,' Kurogane grumbled, getting up slowly. 'You're worse than a woman.' He took the basket, shoved it down the rock; Fai popped up on the other side and caught it, beaming.

'Thank you!' he said. His wet hair clung to his cheeks, which were flushed and dripping. He wasn't wearing his eyepatch, and the scar was knotted cruelly into his soft skin. Kurogane was pleased to see that it had healed well, and wondered if it still gave Fai pain; but even as he thought this, Fai suddenly became aware as to why Kurogane was staring, and drew back imperceptibly, turning his face away. He did not like to be seen without his patch.

In the awkward silence, Kurogane's gaze followed the line of Fai's throat, down to where the deeper, darker scars twisted over his shoulder and across his stomach. Evenly spaced and running parallel to each other, they could not have been anything but claw-marks, and yet Kurogane knew of no animal that could slice flesh so cleanly. They were still less than a year old, and so stood out pink and raw against Fai's fair skin. Kurogane wanted to reach out to them, to cover them with his own rough-scarred hands, laying his splayed fingers along them and pressing them, hard, so that Fai cried out. He would be so brittle under Kurogane's grasp, his breath heaving hot under the thin skin of his chest, his spindly fingers skittering madly, and because of that, Kurogane needed to keep him close, keep him where nothing else could touch him ever again.

Fai's face was by now a furious red, and his lips were parted. His eyes darted about madly, trying to find a place to rest, he let out a long, shaking breath; and so Kurogane knew that they had been thinking exactly the same thoughts. His stomach tightened, and his heart began to drum quick and hard behind his ribs. 'I'm,' he said, and he was going to finish it with coming round, but there was no need. Fai made a small dark sigh of a sound, a mumbled gulp of assent, and Kurogane needed nothing else. He strode around the rock, all his limbs feeling heavy and clumsy, and saw Fai standing there in the water, almost huddled into himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest to hide the scars.

- but something on the far bank caught Kurogane's eye, and he looked, and stopped where he stood.

It was just woman from the village carrying a great bundle of laundry. The river was not ride here, which meant that as clearly as Kurogane could see her frightened face, she could see Fai's. Three more women came up behind her, pushing their way through the low undergrowth on the bank, laughing and talking, and then falling silent and coming to a halt one by one as they caught sight of the creature that stood naked in the water.

'Go,' said Kurogane, quietly, before the women could start to scream. Fai darted around the rock and ducked out of sight, but by then they had already seen how half his face was missing, how his eyes shone the colour of the sky. 'Clear off!' Kurogane shouted across at them. 'This is my land, you hear?'

'It isn't!' one of the bolder ones yelled back. 'We know you! You're that exile, aren't you? You got no claim to anything! Don't you think you can boss us around!'

'What was that, then?' another one shouted. 'You answer us! What the hell kind of monster was that?'

'I told you to clear off!' Kurogane roared.

But the damage was done.

'I'm sorry,' Fai said, much later. 'What will they do?'

'Spread stories and get accused of daydreaming,' Kurogane shrugged. 'What do you think they'll do? They're just a bunch of old women.'

'You still got that thing living with you?' asked the wife of the man Kurogane bought soba from. 'We all heard the stories. My aunt, she saw it. What is it, a ghost? A god?'

'Don't know what you're talking about,' Kurogane said, and glowered at the stall-owner. 'Oi, you, teach your wife to keep her mouth shut.'

'Wish I could,' he muttered back. There was something dark in his eyes as he watched Kurogane.

'I heard tell you had the surgeon in last winter to look at someone,' the woman persisted. 'Is that what it was? What happened to his face, hmm? I heard he's got no face at all, I heard he's so ugly he's worse than a monster to look at.'

'That's all I need,' Kurogane said to the man, and hoisted the sack onto his back. 'Thanks.'

'I heard he's a demon!' the woman yelled after him. He ignored her.

He also ignored the strange feeling he had on the way back that something was watching him.

Within a month, they had their first visit from the lord's officials. Everything was very formal and polite, with much bowing and roundabout gesticulating. Two men came, accompanied by no fewer than seven servants and pages, one of whom arrived at the house an hour ahead of time and announced his masters' arrival, and told everyone to make ready. By the time the officials arrived, Syaoran had worked himself up into a veritable panic, while Fai tried his very best to calm him down and make him explain again how much he was supposed to speak and when he was supposed to bow. Kurogane sat in the corner as usual and kept an eye on the tea. Something was going to go wrong.

'We are very poor and unworthy, my lords, and have little to offer you,' he said by way of welcome when everyone was properly seated and all the proper introductions had been made, although his tone was slightly too tense to give the effect of true humility. 'That you have graced our miserable home with your esteemed presence is an honour greater than words can express.'

'We're happy to have you here!' Fai added, brightly. Syaoran winced.

But the officials did not take this as a discourtesy, or at least the heavyset, sleepy-eyed one on the left didn't. 'Thank you,' he said. 'The tea's not bad at all.'

His colleague frowned, and elbowed him very, very discreetly. 'We thank you for your hospitality,' he said. 'We are here at the request of our most noble lord –' and here followed a long string of titles and honorifics that eventually culminated in a name – 'and have been instructed to convey his greetings to the esteemed Fai-sama, and to bid him welcome to his humble prefecture. He sends also his apologies for not extending this welcome sooner. He was not informed of Fai-sama's presence until recently.'

'Well, isn't that nice?' Fai said, happily. 'That's very thoughtful of him.'

Kurogane caught Syaoran's frantic eyebrow-waggling and stepped in with a sigh. 'Please convey to your lord our deepest gratitude and respect,' he said, and kicked Fai's ankle as best he could. He bowed his head, and added, 'I humbly beg you to be gracious and excuse any impoliteness on the part of my guest. Being a foreigner, he is as yet unaccustomed to our ways.'

'We don't mind,' said the sleepy-eyed official, and took another deep swig of tea. 'Mm.'

His colleague had started to go red. 'Of course we understand Fai-sama's situation!' he said, loudly, while the servants behind them tittered. 'In fact, it is fortunate that we came! It is obvious that so great and powerful a spirit cannot be expected to spend his time on earth in a mere bamboo-cutter's hut. If Fai-sama would do us the honour of accepting our most noble lord's invitation to his home, we would be extremely honoured to welcome him.'

There was a slight pause, in which only the slurping of tea could be heard. Then Fai said, 'Ah – excuse me, but I think there's been some mistake.'

'No, no mistake, begging your pardon,' said the official.

'I am a mortal,' Fai said. 'I am not – a spirit. I am but a poor traveller from distant lands who was sorely misused by a pack of bandits last winter. This good man and his brother saved my life and took me in.'

The official blinked. He said, 'The man who treated you is a dear and trusted friend of my lord's. He has told us what he knows of you. The villagers are kicking up quite a fuss over you. They think, as peasants will – how simple they can be! – that you are some kind of monster. It would be safer for everyone involved if you were to accompany us.'

'I am not a monster,' Fai said, laughing kindly, as though correcting a child's mistake. 'I am a man, just like you, my lord. You see that I have been wounded – do spirits bleed? Do they come as close to death as I have strayed? I am happy where I am.'

'But we thank you for your generous offer,' Syaoran added quickly.

The sleepy-eyed official held out his cup for more tea, and considered its contents for a moment. 'My lord has visited the imperial court upon occasion,' he said. 'You might get the chance to become very well-known and powerful.' He blew steam from his cup. 'But that's only if you want to. Me, I'd stay right here.'

The other official shot him an exasperated look, and then leaned a little closer to Fai. 'This offer is being made for your protection, my lord,' he said. 'Whether you are a man or not, the villagers mistrust you, and resent your presence. Even if you are only a traveller, you will be welcomed by my lord. Please understand, my friend, that people sometimes take matters into their own hands. If anything goes amiss in the village, you will be blamed. Things can get ugly.' He lifted his face fully then for the first time, so that the three men sitting opposite him could see the discoloration in his left eye, and the faint bubbled scar that crossed the eyelid. 'I know what happens to people who see things other people don't,' he said.

The other man had stopped drinking his tea, and had gone very still.

Fai let out a breath and looked the young official clear in the eye. 'Thank you,' he said. 'From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your concern. But I –' Here he swallowed, and seemed to find his next words difficult to say: 'I want to stay. Here.'

The official looked at him a moment more. Then his face settled into acceptance, and he bowed. 'I can see that I was mistaken,' he said. 'You are clearly a man, and not an immortal. I will make sure that my lord is informed of this, and that the villagers are reassured. But remember that should you ever need assistance, you are always welcome as my personal guest.'

Fai bowed perfectly, and with that, that part of the conversation was over. 'Would you like anything to eat, my lords?' he asked. 'I'm sure it has been a long and exhausting journey.'

'What do you have?' said the one on the left, looking up hopefully.

'Thank you, but we have to get going now!' the other snapped, his politeness slipping momentarily as he glared at his colleague.

They left shortly after that, and Kurogane was glad to see the back of them.

'I think he was a nice boy,' Fai said.

'We don't need their help,' Kurogane replied, stiffly. He had failed to protect his family once before. He would not let that happen again.

Entirely coincidentally, it was at around this point that Kurogane's dreams changed. He no longer saw moonlight. Now he saw blood, and darkness, and things with claws. Their yellow eyes watched him from the shadows.

Autumn came on early, just as Fai had said it would; but it was colder than he had predicted, with so much rain that reports came in of bridges broken and people forced out of their homes by floods in villages to the south. The days dawned white, spattered at the edges with the red of the changing leaves. Kurogane remembered blood on pale skin, and made sure that Ginryuu was kept sharp. Fai gathered all the fallen leaves he could find and carried them about in his hands as though they were flowers, not minding the little millipedes and spiders that often crawled out from them.

'Don't bring those into my house,' Kurogane snapped at him. 'They're just muddy old leaves.'

Fai threw them up in the air and laughed.

'Now someone's going to have to sweep those up,' Syaoran sighed, not at all crossly.

'I'll do it!' Fai sang, and leapt for the broom. 'I love sweeping things! It's so – ordinary! And cooking, and eating, and sleeping, and cleaning, and sewing, and all of it!'

But then the day came when Syaoran, trying to get into the village, found his path blocked by three boys a good deal older than himself.

'Excuse me,' he said, bowing to them all politely. 'I'd like to get through.'

'Can't go in,' said one.

Syaoran blinked. 'Has something happened in the village?' he asked, nervously. 'Is someone ill?'

'What's happened,' said another, 'is someone decided to take in a demon with no face, and that someone still has the gall to show up here and act like nothing's wrong.'

'I just want to get through,' Syaoran said, keeping his head down. 'I don't want to cause any trouble.'

But they closed in on him anyway, and he couldn't run.

'Are you going to tell your brother about this?' Fai asked him, afterwards, as he gently touched the bruises on the boy's face and smoothed them away.

'He'll only get angry, and that won't help,' Syaoran said. 'I don't mind getting hurt.'

'He would mind very much,' Fai pointed out, putting his thumb on the nasty gash in Syaoran's lip and pushing it closed, then reaching down for the little wet rag and starting to wipe away the blood. 'Or – is that why you don't want to tell him?'

'He – needs to protect me,' Syaoran explained. 'He couldn't – he couldn't save our parents. He killed the man who killed them, the man who set the fire that burned our home down, but that didn't bring them back. So now – he has to protect me, and you as well. We're what he has left.'

His voice was shaking by the time he finished, and Fai distinctly saw the boy's chin tremble after he snapped it shut. He squeezed his shoulder, and said, 'You've been protecting him, too. He's lucky to have a brother like you.' Then he got up and left him alone for a while.

The weather grew steadily colder and colder. The leaves were still on the trees when the first snowfall came, and though it was generally held to have been a freak storm – for afterwards the rains came back almost interrupted for another month – the reason for such a dangerous portent was obvious, at least to the villagers. Kurogane could no longer go into the village without being met with glares, fear, and, in some cases, open hostility. At night he slept only fitfully, for the things with claws were everywhere, and they were coming for him.

It was late at night at when the hailstorm struck. Kurogane was awake instantly, heart pounding in the wake of a nightmare. He was on the point of leaping outdoors when Fai caught him back, saying, 'If one of those hits you on the head, you will die.' Syaoran came running in, lifting a lantern up to the darkness so that they could all watch in horror as the hailstones, each one bigger than a goose-egg, reduced the vegetable patch to shreds in a matter of moments.

'Can't you – stop it?' Kurogane yelled to Fai above the howling of the wind.

'Not against seven of them,' Fai yelled back. 'I'm losing what I had, and they're still strong.'

'Not against seven of who?' Kurogane shouted, yanking Syaoran back roughly into shelter as a stone splintered on the ground near his feet.

'You've seen them,' said Fai. 'The other ones like me. They've come to you.'

Syaoran stared, and Kurogane stared with him. Fai just smiled bitterly. The moment was broken by a distressed wail from the goat-pen. Kurogane swore and started out into the night again, but once again Fai held him back.

'The goats,' Kurogane snapped. 'We need them.'

'It'll end in less than a minute,' Fai said, implacably. 'They're under cover, aren't they? They'll be alright.'

Kurogane hesitated, because he didn't want to know the answer, but then asked anyway. 'Are they – going to come after you?' After a beat, he added, irritably, 'Not the damn goats, the – you know.'

'The ones you've been dreaming about?' Fai supplied. 'I don't know. I didn't think they would. It's not like them.'

'The potatoes and the daikon should be alright,' Syaoran put in anxiously, coming up behind them. 'The beans are probably ruined. Oh – I think it's clearing up now. Should we go check the damage?'

'In the morning,' Kurogane said, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck before he could venture out. He was suddenly awfully, dizzyingly aware of the shadows that bristled and jumped all around the house, and of what they could hold. 'You're not going out there now, you hear me? Get some rest.'

'You must too, onii-san,' Syaoran told him. 'Please.'

Kurogane tried to, he really did, but it was difficult. He dreamed of yellow eyes that were not so much yellow as golden, the colour of moonrise, of magic, of falling stars. He dreamed of stars, too, but stars that rode through the sky like warriors, immortal and merciless. They walked the paths of the wind, forged the lightning into spear-blades, watched the world below and took pleasure in wreaking havoc on it. They watched the weak suffer and the strong overreach themselves. They watched as a house burned and everyone inside died, everyone except a young man and his even younger brother: but suddenly it wasn't the old house but the new house, the little house at the edge of the forest, and no one was getting out this time.

He woke, gasping, to Fai's touch on his face, to Fai's voice whispering, 'It's alright, it's alright, shh, I'm here. I'm here now.'

'What?' Kurogane panted, looking around wildly. 'Who – what?'

'It was just a dream,' Fai said, his voice breaking, as though he knew exactly what had been behind Kurogane's eyes. 'It was only a dream. They're gone now.'

Their lips were close enough to touch, and in this dim dreamlike confusion they would have had every excuse to give in, but something felt wrong. Kurogane pushed Fai away roughly, shook his head. 'They're watching,' he said, still only half-awake. 'They're – someone's here – they'll see –' He breathed out, once, twice, closed his eyes in exhaustion, and fell back into sleep.

Fai caught him as he slid down the wall and cradled him close for a moment, weighing him heavy and real and slowburning in his arms. He pushed his face against the hot skin of Kurogane's throat and screwed his eyes tightly shut, imagining a different time, a different story. He did not think of leaving Kurogane, not because he was afraid to, but because he did not know how to change things for himself. He needed other people to force him, and always had. He knew that things would have been better if he had never met the man: but he could not imagine rectifying the situation as it stood. He was frozen where he was, moving no more than a river did: ever flowing, ever the same.

Kurogane twitched in his sleep, and stiffened, and relaxed. The nightmares were beginning again. Fai shifted himself carefully so that he could lay Kurogane's head in his lap, where he stroked the dark hair tenderly, pushing it back from the square stern face, feeling it prickle his palms. Soon Kurogane's eyelids began to flicker, and he jerked restlessly, shuddering. Fai bent lower over him and smoothed the nightmares away as best he could, leaving behind only a nameless, bitter aftertaste of unease. He could do that much for him.

'Stay away from him,' he said aloud to the watchful night. 'He is a good man. Do not punish him for my crime.'

Something quick and flat as lightning sprang up over the forest. It sped across the clouds and was gone.

As the year turned towards the dark, snow fell thicker than it ever had in living memory. The late harvest had been almost entirely ruined, first by the hail and then by the heavy snows. Stories of dark things spread like fire through the village: things with claws longer than their arms, things with eyes like flame, things so beautiful that you were drawn to them helplessly and were only too glad to let them kiss you sweetly as they broke your chest open and tore out your spine. They followed you like footsteps and lurked at the corners of your eyes.

They had come for the one they had lost.

'Get it out,' said the people. 'If we get it out and make it go away then they will leave us alone. It brought the snow, it brought the bad luck, it brought the other ones with it.'

'It has no face,' said the woman who had seen it first. 'It was scarred, and badly. Didn't they say bandits found it, and tried to kill it? Who's to say we can't finish the job?'

In the darkness and the cold and the hunger and the fear, their thoughts turned to fire.

It happened at dusk.

Syaoran was outside, shivering to himself and stamping his feet to keep warm as he fed the goats. His fingers were clutched blue around the handle of the pail, and he could see his breath freeze on the evening air. He kept half an eye open for suspicious-looking shadows, although he didn't really believe the stories about monsters, nor did he subscribe to Kurogane's brand of hyperawareness. He was well aware of the danger he and his family were in, and had been ever since he had first taken a close look at the strange cloak his brother had brought home with the strange wounded foreigner he had found in the hills a year and more since; but he was not afraid. He trusted Kurogane, and he trusted Fai, and he trusted himself as well, to a reasonable degree.

Besides, he reasoned, if anything possessed of even half the power Fai still seemed to have even after living a year as a mortal was going to try to kill anyone, it would have no doubt have made itself entirely invisible beforehand, and would do the deed as quickly and quietly as possibly; thus there seemed little point in fear. He thought this way because he was a straightforward, honest boy, and did not yet understand the many varied subtleties of the art of cruelty.

Inside, Fai was taking the burn out of the chilblains on Kurogane's fingers; that is to say, he had finished doing so a while ago, and was now sitting with Kurogane's hand balanced lightly in both of his own, rubbing the fingers to keep them warm. Kurogane was pretending to ignore him, and was doing a bad job of it.

'We should have left as soon as we could,' Fai was saying. 'We shouldn't have waited this long.'

'We'll make it through the winter,' Kurogane said. 'It's not long now. You liked spring, didn't you?'

Fai looked as though he quite wanted to kiss him for that. Instead, he gave Kurogane's hand an almost avuncular parting pat, and stood up to check on supper. He peeked out the door as he did so to check on Syaoran, and frowned. 'Oh, dear,' he said. 'I think he might have slipped.'

'Hmm?' said Kurogane.

'I think Syaoran-kun just fell. Ice is very pretty from a distance, but up close it's awful stuff, isn't it? I'll just go check on him.'

He went out, leaving Kurogane alone. He stood and stoked up the fire as best he could, and debated whether or not he should throw on another log. They were running low on firewood, and he did not like going far from the house, since he was its best garrison; similarly, he did not like sending either Fai or Syaoran out into the forest anymore. He would have to make a quick job of it tomorrow if there was some sun. Fai assured them both constantly that everything was alright, and that they need fear no attack from the supernatural front at least; but Kurogane knew the look that came into his face when he lied. He had wondered more than once if the strange weather and supposed hauntings were not merely a clever trick to turn the villagers against them; and on broaching this theory to Fai, very casually, had realised that he was right.

Above the bubble of the stew and the pop of the dying flames, he thought he heard a faint sound. It was nothing he could name, just a small shimmer of noise, the auditory equivalent of a mirage glimpsed out of the corner of one's eye on a hot day. But the wind was still outside, and in the ringing cold every smallest sound was magnified and given back many times over. He stiffened, hand going instinctively to his hip even now, even years since a scabbard had hung there, and in fact he was on the verge of going to get Ginryuu down when he heard Fai scream, 'Kurogane!'

He did not pause to think. He ran for the sword, pulling it down and slipping the scabbard hastily over his shoulder before throwing himself outside. It was already growing dark, and in the blue twilight he could see nothing but vague half-shapes and shadows, the low glimmer of frost, the mist hanging thick about the trees. The goats were bleating madly, so he strode towards their pen, stumbling in the icy mud. He made out pale hair, and two prone forms on the ground, one still, the other hunched over it; he started towards them, but something sang past his ear, and something else grazed him on the shoulder, and then he was struck with a spatter of small stones, and suddenly they were everywhere –

Fire sprang up in the dark, and the mists parted. A man barrelled through, torch held high in one hand, some kind of crude club in the other. He charged straight for Fai and Syaoran, club raised to strike. Kurogane saw red flame shine on the golden hair, saw his brother's thin form held close and tucked under a protective shoulder, and sprang. He half leapt in front of them, sword drawn and ready, and it was only because the man slipped a little in the slush that Kurogane did not kill him on the spot. As it was, he teetered and veered wildly to the left, and Kurogane's blade caught only the edge of his arm. He howled and fell, panting; the torch fell with him and sputtered out.

But more were on their way. The mist flared red under the eaves of the trees.

'Is he hurt?' Kurogane barked out, turning back to Fai. Syaoran lay unmoving in his arms, his face splattered dark with what could have been mud or blood or both. 'What did they do to him?'

Fai gathered Syaoran closer and tried to stand. Kurogane took his arm and pulled him up, angling his body so that Syaoran was fully protected. 'He's alive,' Fai said, 'he's fine, he's just out of his body for a while – I think a stone hit him and he fell –'

'Get him up into the hills,' Kurogane said. His voice was shaking. 'I'll – I'll hold them off –'

'They won't hurt him unless he's with me,' Fai snapped. 'Take him. I can manage this better than you can.'

The man in the mud laughed and bubbled and said, 'They're coming for all of you filthy bastards. All of you. I wish your souls a quick journey to the otherworld. Be glad to see them go. Make sure you don't hang around, you hear?'

Kurogane kicked him viciously in the stomach. As he did, a second rain of stones fell, and did not stop, clattering down in sporadic bursts. Shouts could be heard now. Kurogane said, 'Just get him the hell out of here and keep him safe,' to Fai and then turned, sword raised.

A thin streak of gold arced through the night above their heads.

Kurogane swore, and roared, 'What are you, cowards? Come here and fight me face-to-face!'

'Please come with us,' Fai begged from behind him. 'He needs you. He'll be safest with you. Please!'

And then, as more arrows began to soar overhead, and as the sodden thatch of the cottage began to smoulder, the first villagers stamped through the fog. There were only four or five at the moment, but they were all big, burly men, and from the clamour growing behind them, nearly half the village was following. 'There!' screamed one. 'They're there! Get them!'

'Kurogane!' Fai hissed.

Kurogane looked back once at Syaoran, sheathed his sword, and ran.

Fai was at his side instantly, moving swiftly and tirelessly, Syaoran held safe in his arms. The roof of the house was blazing properly now, spitting and roaring against the ice. Kurogane kept his head down and tried not to look at it more than he had to, but even so, the brightness spilled into his vision and bleared the night with greens and purples, dizzying him badly. He was aware of Fai slowing at his side, and then of Syaoran being pushed into his arms; and then Fai was not there anymore, and there were people not too far behind him shouting and screaming and stamping the ground, and he could not stop running because he held his brother's life in his hands, could not stop running even when he saw Fai duck into the burning house and disappear –

- no one had survived the last time, no one except one young man who had been outside and who had raced back in to find his brother. Honour was more important than money, and he had known, he had known that by killing his uncle he would avenge his father's death and cripple his brother's way of life, but he had done it anyway –

He could not go back this time.

He sprinted for the cover of the forest, forgetting everything he had learned of shadows and claws. People were real, and rocks and fire and clubs were real, and nightmares were not, except that the house burning behind him was a nightmare, and the man burning inside it was a nightmare, and both of those were facts, were real and true and ineluctable, and would not be undone no matter how many times he squeezed his eyes closed and then open again.

He kept running. He stumbled so often that he stopped trying to establish a pace, and scrambled over the snowy dead hillsides as best he could, clutching Syaoran safe in his arms. He had not had time to tie his scabbard on properly, and so Ginryuu thudded and bumped at his side in a very unprofessional fashion. He stayed well away from the river, as it was the clearest way through the forest and, being both shallow and solidly iced over, would serve as a wide, easy road, and would be the first choice of his pursuers.

Whenever he looked over his shoulder he saw eyes blazing pale in the darkness, blearing like the flame from the arrows, thin threads weaving a tight net around him, until at last he knew that there was no escape, and that he had been run down. He did not care. He would stand and he would fight and he would kill them all before they touched his brother, but first he needed level ground, a safe place for Syaoran, somewhere that was at least defensible.

Something touched his arm, and he tore away from it with a muffled grunt. He could not fight while carrying Syaoran, could not even reach around to grab Ginryuu; all he could do was keep running. The touch came again and clutched harder this time, and in a sudden unstoppable rage he bundled Syaoran into the crook of the other arm and flung off his attacker with a furious backhand.

The thing clung to him, wrapping its arms around his hand and hissing, 'It's me! It's me! It's alright!' and Kurogane's knees nearly buckled and he said, 'What?' and then, 'Cutting it close, weren't you?' and Fai said, 'I had to,' but Kurogane didn't care. He fumbled up and found the eyepatch, found the raised edges of the scar poking out from underneath it; cupped Fai's face in his hand there in the dark forest, stood blind and uncomprehending and entirely out of breath.

'We've lost them,' Fai said. 'Is he alright?'

'He's fine. What were you –?' He couldn't finish it.

'I had – to get something.' Fai was trembling under Kurogane's touch, and on realising it, Kurogane whipped his hand away, scooped Syaoran up properly again. 'We should keep going to where we'll be safe. Can you find the place where – where you found me?'

Kurogane was quiet for a long time. 'I have no idea where we are,' he said, stubbornly, when the silence became too oppressive even for him.

Fai made an exasperated sound in his throat, and said, 'Think of it clearly in your mind. Picture it. Picture how you get there. That's it. I can see it.'

'Stay out of my head,' Kurogane muttered. 'That still doesn't help us find it.'

'I can take us there,' he said. 'I can find it now, I think. I wouldn't ask you to come with me, but it's not safe here, not with the other ones walking. I don't want to leave you alone.'

'How is finding some stupid spring going to keep us safe?' Kurogane demanded. 'Hey! I'm not walking out blind into hostile territory if I don't even know why I'm doing it! You tell me, you hear? Just tell me what you want to do!'

Fai said, 'Here, wrap him in this. It'll keep him warm.'

Kurogane nearly shouted, but then he felt a cloak draped over his arm. Wordlessly, he set Syaoran down and bundled him up in it, taking the opportunity to heck him for injuries, and finding nothing worse than a large bump on the back of his head. His hair was sharp with drying blood, but the skin had not broken, or, if it had, it had been healed over skilfully. He stood up again, dread knotted tight in his stomach. He said, 'I don't know why you won't just tell me things.'

'You'll know soon enough,' Fai said. His voice was cold. 'Please hurry.'

The walk was one of the longest of Kurogane's life. Fai seemed to have done his best to lessen the cold, but it was still fierce, especially in the high clear air of the foothills. Fai soon shrugged off the signed woollen mantle he was wearing and wrapped it about Kurogane's shoulders without comment, and then added to it one of his thick, slightly muddy under-tunics. They were all far too small for Kurogane to wear, but they acted as good cloaks. Even so, the cold was merciless. They managed to find their way onto a narrow downtrodden track that was reasonably clear of tree-roots, and that must have been a goat-track in times long past, but other than that the way was difficult, being largely uphill, and full of stones and fallen branches.

The yawning dark rustled and squeaked all about them as the night-things went about their business killing and dying and thieving. Syaoran woke briefly, and they stopped to let him throw up. 'I think I hit my head on a stone,' he mumbled, wiping his mouth. 'I'm sorry – I think I fell -' But then he slumped against Fai and could not be roused again.

'I'll carry him for a little while,' Fai offered, in a tone of great civility, but Kurogane took him and set off without a word.

Kurogane began to long for light even more than for food. The dark hurt his eyes. He heard running water from a ridiculously long way off, and kept expecting to plunge headlong into a stream too frenzied to freeze. It took what felt like over an hour for them to reach the water after first coming within earshot of it, and when they did, Fai put out an arm to hold Kurogane back so that he did not trip. His fingers were cold as death, and made him shudder. They walked along the bank, feet crunching on leafmould and millipedes, Fai leading the way like a star in the dark. The mist had thinned considerably, and from here the small pale stars up above were just visible, though no moon shone. Kurogane wanted very much to ask if Fai had been one of them once, and if they were all men. His throat ached too much to speak. He thought he might have caught a cold.

Things faded into a blur after a while. He was dimly aware of Fai saying, 'Here,' and then of sitting down, finally, on the cloak that Fai spread out for him on a rock. He gathered Syaoran closer and was asleep in an instant, though it was not a pleasant sleep. He woke intermittently to odd sounds and small discomforts, feeling pebbles in his neck and water creeping into his boots. He dreamed that there was a great light, and a noise of falling water hanging golden on the air like dawn; he dreamed that he lay rooted into the ground, held down by tall white trees. Their branches clawed at him, skewering his lungs so that he bled out into the earth. They blossomed red with it.

He woke fully at last to a grey world wreathed all in mist. Strangely, he felt none the worse for what he remembered as an intensely taxing night: sitting up, he felt as well-rested as though he had just slept long and well in his own home. It was at this point that he remembered that his own home no longer stood, and the dread came back. He felt aimless, at a loose end. He did not know what he was going to do with his life. They could not keep running forever, and they certainly could not go anywhere without money or possessions. he had two dependants and no matter how much strength he might have had, that would not be enough to protect them. He needed other things, simple basic everyday things, in order to keep them safe: food, shelter, clothing. He did not know how he was going to give them those things. He did not know what to do.

He would not have been half as angry had Fai just explained to him what was happening.

He glowered down at Ginryuu, and then checked on Syaoran, who had been asleep next to him, and was wrapped up in Kurogane's cloak. He shook him gently, and was relieved when he blinked and smiled groggily.

'It's cold today, isn't it, onii-san?' he asked.

'Yeah,' Kurogane said, feeling his forehead, then slipping his hand around to check the back of the boy's head. No fever. No wound. He was safe. 'It's still early.'

'I'll get up - I'll get the fire going –'

'That other idiot's already taken care of it,' Kurogane told him. 'You just lie still for a while.'

Syaoran smiled. 'Thank you,' he murmured, and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was asleep again.

Kurogane stroked the boy's hair, just once, and then stood up.

'You want to tell me what the hell this is all about now?' he said.

Fai stood knee-deep in the icy water, bare to the waist, his face turned up to the brightening sky. No birds sang, and no wind blew. It was as though the world were holding its breath.

'I'm going to be leaving you,' he said, slowly, and only slightly unevenly. 'I'm afraid that this little – trip – well, it's over.'

Kurogane was unprepared for that, and even more unprepared for how it made him feel. He got up off the stone, rubbing his face to clear the sleep from it, and tried belatedly to brace himself. He told himself that he had always known that this was going to happen. He told himself that it was the way the world worked. 'It was a trip, was it?' he said from the bank. 'Just some sightseeing?'

'Yes,' said Fai. 'And now it's over. I'm going back home.'

'Back home where they tried to kill you?' Kurogane asked, levelly.

There was a slight pause before Fai answered, 'You don't have to worry about that.'

Kurogane stopped trying to be rational. He strode out into the water and caught Fai roughly by the arm, yanking him around. Fai tried to pull away, cringing like a beaten child, his free hand coming up to cover his scar. Kurogane knocked the hand aside, but did not touch his face. He couldn't bear to, not now. 'You're damn right I don't have to worry about that, because you're not going back there,' he growled. 'They did this to you and you are not going to let them finish it.'

'You don't it was them,' Fai said to his feet. 'It could have happened after I came here. It could have been an animal.'

Kurogane gripped his arm tighter. He hoped it hurt. 'Every time you talk about them you hide – that. You don't even know you do it. You turn your head away, or you fiddle with the patch, or something. I've watched you. I know it was them.'

Fai didn't say anything, but he lifted his head a little so that Kurogane could see the scar properly, even though he kept his eyes downcast; and Kurogane could see the effort it cost him to do so, not because he was vain, or ashamed of having lost what must have been a furious battle, but because he did not like to lay the burden of his pain on anyone else. He did not want Kurogane to have to see his suffering, and to suffer for him in turn. He kept his grief hidden because he thought that he alone was wicked enough to deserve it. It was as though he thought he had to punish himself.

'I don't –' Kurogane began, but Fai was already reaching up, brushing gentle fingers across his face. Kurogane stilled, suddenly breathless. Fai pushed his hair back out of his eyes and stroked the line of his jaw, just briefly, and then laid his hand along Kurogane's forehead, his eyes searching for something.

'Your fever's gone,' he said. 'I'm glad. Last night – you were very strong, to keep going for so long in the cold. I did what I could to make it easier for you while you slept. I think you'll be alright.'

'I could have handled it,' Kurogane muttered.

'You need to be at your best if you're going to look after that brother of yours,' Fai told him.

'You're going to help look after him, too.'

Fai smiled, and let his hand drop rather abruptly. 'I'm afraid that's not going to be possible.'

Kurogane clutched his arm even tighter, shook him roughly, pushed him backwards in frustration. Fai stumbled, caught himself against a boulder, looked up in fear; Kurogane was bearing down on him, face twisted in anger. He caught him by the shoulder and shoved him back against the rock, shouted, 'You are not going to let yourself get killed!'

'It won't be like that!' Fai shouted back at him. 'You don't understand! They attacked me to try and stop me from leaving! They want me back! Why do you think they've been after us all winter? They've been trying to make me come back!'

'How can you trust them? How can you know they won't turn on you?'

'They're my family and I love them!'

His voice echoed on the rocks and the cold water. Someone, a bird began to sing forlornly in the fog. It was joined a moment later by another, and then another. Kurogane glanced up, and saw the sky paling to a clear white above the trees. Dawn was fast on its way. He let his gaze drop, more out of anger than anything else, and felt his fingers dig deeper into Fai's shoulder, almost of their own accord. 'They're your family and they did this to you?' he said.

'What I did to them was far worse,' Fai whispered. 'I chose to abandon them. I betrayed them. I'd wanted to do it for so long, but I hadn't even known that I could – I hadn't dreamed it was possible. It was my brother who found the path, who found this place.' He gestured to the stream. 'The – boundaries, if you like, the walls between the worlds, they're – they're thinner here, in this place, easier to break, though I don't know why. He helped me. He told me it was alright to leave. I didn't even have time to thank him before they found us. He held them off.' His voice caught. 'I don't know what they did to him. I don't even know if he's still alive.'

'Why wouldn't they just let you go?' Kurogane demanded. 'Why couldn't they just – if you wanted to leave, you should've been able to!'

Fai shook his head. 'It doesn't work that way. We are an ancient people, and we share an ancient covenant. Our magic binds us together. Immortality is very dangerous if you have to face it alone, and so we promised that we would always be together, so that we would not have to endure such horror…but I gave up my magic, and I came here. The gold – that was the last of my immortal blood. I didn't – I didn't want it anymore, I didn't want any of that – I just – I only –' He looked up into Kurogane's eyes pleadingly. His hands were on Kurogane's chest, fisted into his tunic; his lips were parted as though to continue speaking, and yet no sound came out. He looked terrified, as though he thought for some reason that Kurogane would hate him if kept talking.

Kurogane understood what Fai wanted him to ask. 'I still think you should just stay here,' he said, trying to sound prickly.

And yet Fai still couldn't seem to say it. He drew in a deep breath, and clung even tighter to Kurogane, his brow furrowing as though he were in pain. 'They've threatened to kill you unless I leave,' he said at last, all in a rush. 'I've called them down. They're coming to take me back at sunrise. That's why I needed my robe.' And then, 'I'm sorry I endangered you. I've destroyed your life. It was selfish.'

He waited here for Kurogane to speak, but Kurogane's face had closed shut like a trap, and his fingers were biting cruelly into Fai's shoulder.

'If I leave,' he continued, frantically, 'the people – I can make it so that they'll forget, so that they'll think I was just a bad dream – if I stay, they'll remember, but if I go – they'll think your house burned down by accident, and they won't hate you so much anymore –'

'Just stop talking,' Kurogane said, quietly. He was shaking.

'- if you go to the samurai lord's home, they'll give you shelter for a while – the boy, the one-eyed boy, he'll remember the truth even if no one else does, and he'll look after you –'

'Why didn't you just tell me they were after me from the start?' Kurogane gritted out.

'I didn't want you to have to worry!' Fai said, wretchedly. 'I thought the others would leave me alone, but they didn't, and it was my mistake, not yours! I didn't want you to get involved!'

Kurogane felt his eyes widen. He let go of Fai's arm in disgust and stepped back. His heart was pounding so hard that it was painful, but it was the sick, twisting helplessness in his gut that was the worst of all. He knew that he was going to be able to stop this from happening. He would fight against it with everything he had if that was what it took, and he would believe with all his might that he would be successful, but some small part of him that understood what inevitability meant understood also that he was not going to be able to save Fai.

He felt useless. He had failed again.

'I'm involved,' he said, bitterly. 'It's too late to change that.'

'I didn't – want to change it,' Fai admitted.

His words were clumsy, and his voice sounded strangled, but Kurogane understood what he meant. It was almost a thank you. He didn't like that. Thank you was nearly the same as goodbye. He continued to stare down at the water, seeing in the growing light something that glittered between the stones. He ignored it. He didn't want to think of gold now. 'This – has to happen, doesn't it?' he asked, swallowing.

'In retrospect, it was foolish of me to think that – that I could have what I wanted,' Fai agreed. 'At least, not for more than a very short time. And I am grateful even for that. It was much, much more than I deserved.'

Kurogane still did not look up. The ache in his chest sharpened until it was suddenly more than he could stand. He gritted his teeth, tried to keep his face under control. 'What was it that you wanted?' he said, unable to hold the question back anymore, and then breathed out heavily, almost as though in relief, though in fact it was with regret at his own bravery.

The silence that followed was almost offended very, very tense. Kurogane could not look at Fai's face for fear of what he might see. Don't say it, he willed him. Do not say what I would give anything to hear you say. He heard Fai breathe out shakily, and that was almost worse than hearing him say it, because suddenly Kurogane knew, he knew and he understood and it all made sense, and the truth was so appalling and so horribly, cruelly unfair that he could not deal with it, not now.

Fai said, 'I thought you didn't want to know why I came down here.' It sounded light, as though he were teasing, but it meant you don't want to hear it. He said, 'I thought it wasn't any of your business.' It will only hurt you.

'You don't have to tell me,' Kurogane said, throwing them both a lifeline, because even though he was not a coward, there was no point to this. 'It doesn't matter, after all.'

Perhaps he had said it with too much levity, or perhaps the unspoken code between them failed at that point. Whatever the reason, there was a small pause, and then Fai whispered, 'Don't you know by now?'

A small wind blew through the trees and ruffled the surface of the water. Voice hoarse, Kurogane said, 'I know.'

He turned, and Fai stepped forward, and then they were in each other's arms, and Fai was kissing him full on the mouth.

Kurogane breathed in sharply, as though he had been wounded, and held Fai so close that he feared almost to snap him in half. He felt ribs under his palms, thumbed the thick scars, dug his nails into Fai's back: tried in some way to ground him, to make him real and keep him that way. He was not a spirit, not a dream of a spirit, but a man, and the time he had spent in the world had been real. Fai made a sound like a small creature dying and clung closer to him, pushing his fingers into Kurogane's hair and kissing him hard and desperate. His lips were cold, and he tasted of snow on the wind, and of coming thunder, but also of blood. Kurogane wondered if perhaps he were the dream to Fai, the thing that could never stay, the thing he had convince himself was real. He held him even tighter, and Fai slumped against him, seeming to melt, turning the kiss sweeter and more yearning.

It was all in vain, a last, futile act that would change nothing, that would only make what was to follow seem harder to bear: and yet it was for this that the barrier between worlds had been broken, for this that both of them had fought without even realising what it was: and so however brief it might have been, however ill-advised and illogical it might have seemed to anyone else, it was enough, and more than enough. It was all they could ever have. There was no use in thinking if things had been different or if we could find a way to run or even if we had known earlier. This was the time that had been allotted to them, and now it was over.

The kisses slowed and then stopped. They stood there in the water with their foreheads touching, lips ghosting together as each in turn tried to speak and realised that there was nothing that could be said. All around them, the birdsong was growing louder, and the mists were thinning, though the air was still bitterly cold. Kurogane cupped Fai's face in his hands so gently, closed his eyes, pressed their lips together once more. He kept thinking this is it, and yet he could not let go. He kissed him again, and stroked his hair and breathed in the scent of him, until at last Fai took his wrists and moved his hands away.

'They're here,' he said, kindly, as though breaking sad news to a very young boy.

He stepped backwards into the light of the rising sun, and his hair shone gold. He looked at Kurogane, and smiled such a smile that Kurogane's heart ached. His lips moved to speak, but there was a great noise of wind and feathers, like huge wings beating and swooping down around them, and Kurogane could not hear his words over the commotion. He flung his arm up over his eyes as the light grew, and stumbled as he reached for Fai. His fingers brushed feathers, and he drew back with a cry of confusion, and sank to his knees in the water. He could not see for the light, and for the pain.

When he came back to himself, Fai was gone.

That spring, Kurogane and Syaoran left the village by the forest. They travelled to a large city and found a house there. It was small, and not in a particularly good district, but it was comfortable, and exactly what they wanted. Syaoran was apprenticed to a well-known carpenter. Kurogane found work as an instructor of swordsmanship in a nobleman's household. They worked hard and well, and they survived.

One day, Syaoran met a strange girl wandering about in front of their house. She was alone, unaccompanied by any servants, which was strange, because her robes were very fine, finer than any Syaoran had ever seen, and her bearing was that of a rich young woman. Despite the mud of muck of the streets and the heat of the day, she was pristine, untouched by any of the filth of the world. He stood in front of her and stared, his mouth hanging open.

She bowed neatly, and said, 'Fai-sama sends his regards, and hopes you are well.' Then she clapped her hands over her mouth, and squeaked, 'Oh! You're not Kurogane-sama! I'm sorry! Um, um, ignore me! I just – I made a little mistake!'

'He lives here,' Syaoran said, hastily. 'He's my brother – who – who are you? I – I mean, ah – I –' He gave up, and went back to staring. Her eyes were very, very green, and if he looked at her out of the corner of his eye, he could just make out what seemed to be wings springing from her shoulders. Her hair shone in the light.

'I'm someone who can move a little more freely than Fai-sama can,' she said, and smiled. 'You must be Syaoran-sama! I'm very pleased to meet you! Shake!' She held out her hand, and then bit her lip and blushed as he blinked. 'Sorry, sorry, sorry! You guys don't do that, do you? Oh, he tried to teach me what to say, and I tried so hard to remember, but it's confusing –'

He took her hand anyway and held it tight. He didn't know why he was trembling, or why he could hardly stand to meet her eyes. All he knew was that he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. He swallowed, and said, with difficulty, 'Would you like to come inside and meet my brother?'

'Yes, please,' she said. 'Perhaps I could stay for tea?'

And she did.

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