In the end there is nothing but his smile glowing warmly at Kurogane's side as they lie together in the shop.

Time ticked by, slowly and achingly, a flow that seemed to have its own life-force. It was strong and never-ending. Just outside the room in which they both lay sat an old grandfather clock with a weary, creaking chime and neither of them had ever seen it before but they could feel the movement of time as the pendulum ticked and swayed. With their eyes closed, they could hear it echoing through their empty space.

Tick…tock…tick…tock

In that wide gap which time could barely fill, they lay, thinking carefully on events come and gone, of their aching wounds oozing blood and the fear that tore through their bodies, screams ripping through their throats in a dancing unison, crashing to the ground. It was hard to believe that the same time flowed through that battle when their hearts spattered and throbbed out of sync, lying now in stifling silence and breathing in tired and weary breaths as the pain ebbed away.

They remembered the anger that had coursed through their veins as they lashed out against him, a face of cunning and insanity, laughing manically as the first beads of sweat leaked from his forehead, so loud and brash it seemed as if reality had slipped completely from his grasp, so confidently it sickened them to their guts. This was the hand that had pushed a sword through the weakened body of the Lady of Suwa, her blood washing the wooden floorboards, seeping viscously through the cracks, those drips of blood on her lips gleaming in the moonlight as her country crumbled and shattered, catastrophe sweeping over the land; this was the voice that had spoken to Fai… Fai, his broken body lying cracked and withered at his feet, blonde hair tumbling down about him with the snow…

And they would never have allowed it to happen again. No matter how many times the blinding agony seared across their backs as they collided with the ground, no matter how many cuts or blows their bodies took, breaking open, dribbling blood they could barely feel as it dripped warmly to the ground… if this was the pain they had to suffer to save the children from his grasp, to annihilate the dream once and for all then so be it.

They lay in the shop, breathing agonising breaths, the faintest hint of victory singing inside of them. The silence stretched about them, a silence so deep and beautiful they could barely bear to break it.

The calm that followed the storm seemed so blissful. The very fact that they could feel one another's presence, hear the other's calm and steady breathing, lulled them into a long-awaited rest and smiles curled triumphantly on their lips… We won…

The witch was dead. In her place at the shop stood the young man they'd seen with her that very first time they'd met, that first time they'd arrived there in the rain at the very beginning of it all. And now, at the very end they'd been provided a place to rest, to lie and heal their wounds together, assured safety by that spectacled young man, though he seemed so sad now, as if lacking something from his soul, a weighted pain he carried about with him, allowing it to consume him until it became his very existence. They'd recognised that faint edge of despair in Syaoran's expression as he'd realised this. In the end though he merely shut his eyes and gave a thankful smile.

You did not disappear.

Daybreak carried through the shoji panels in a clogged and weary state, half-alive as the soft light skimmed over their bodies. First Kurogane's, accenting his strong and solid form, climbing over his body as though traversing a mountain, rising slowly and certainly as he breathed, and secondly Fye's, his torn and bloodied jacket removed, revealing a more slender form, pale skin mottled with bruises and cuts though he smiled pleasantly as the weak sunlight drifted over his chest.

It was two days before either of them had garnered the strength to speak, allowing the chiming of the clock and the faded light to pass over them in silence as time flowed around them. It had seemed so strong and invincible but was shattered easily in one breath.

"You know, Kuro-sama," Fye started, his voice sounding unusually husky, worn by time, "we should start comparing war wounds."

To which Kurogane gave a demeaning snort, a strangely resounding sign of life. "I'm missing an arm. If that's not good enough then I don't know what the hell is."

Fye laughed, a steady chuckle beneath his breath. "Ah but Kuro-sama doesn't go down so easily." He paused and raised his arm, admiring the bandage winding round and round his arm, faint drops of blood showing where it had seeped through the layers. It still ached to move.

"About the same as you," the ninja grumbled, turning about to avoid Fye's eyes.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Is Kuro-chan trying to say something about me?" he laughed, gazing over to where Kurogane lay on his own futon perhaps a metre away. Pristine and polished floorboards of reddened wood ran alongside them, forming a wide, formidable gap between them. From where Fye lay it seemed to stretch on forever, the base of Kurogane's neck lying at the very edge of his vision as if on a horizon he could not reach.

"You're strong," Kurogane answered gruffly, "and much tougher than you make out to be."

Fye smirked to himself, wrapping his hand about his battle-scarred arm, the tender, throbbing flesh which Kurogane could not see. "That would be the magic," he sighed, teasing the edge of his bandage. "Even though I can't perform any healing magic, my body has always been harder to maim."

"Tch, some time to admit you can't heal anyone," Kurogane muttered, shifting on to his back and folding his arm across his chest as he lay there, glancing over to Fye and catching his light smile, his two gleaming blue eyes… "So you finally used that magic of yours properly," he said, narrowing his eyes, feeling a stabbing pain at his back, the cleanly torn flesh stretching as he turned towards him. He winced and bit down on his teeth.

"It would seem so," Fye laughed, stopping to gaze anxiously towards Kurogane and relaxing once Kurogane had settled back down on to the futon, staring straight up towards the ceiling once more. It was the least painful way for him to lie but there was a faint stab of sadness in Fye as he realised he would be unable to stare the other man straight in the eye.

During the battle, a single look had passed between them, a mere fleeting glance that seemed to speak all the words they could ever need to say… of their joint cause and their determination, of their pain and hatred, of their sickened anxiety as they watched this man clutch both pairs of Syaoran and Sakura in his hand and the knowledge that they would continue fighting together no matter what they may face. It was the mutuality of this passing look that made it so difficult to think back on, made their chests clench tight as they realised what they had become together.

And in the silence of the room with the clock ticking over them, Fye listened to Kurogane's breathing and understood he was thinking of exactly the same thing.

"How is your arm?" he whispered anxiously, rolling on to his side and feeling the bruises prickle his body in pain. "Does it hurt?"

"Heh," Kurogane chortled weakly, smirking at the dark and worried tone that had hung so plainly in the mage's voice. "Could be better. But it's not bothering me."

Fye nearly laughed, felt like punching him and spitting in his face that he was a worse liar than he was. But he let it pass this time, taking in Kurogane's bloodied and injured form beside him, drawing back in its strength slowly and certainly. He smiled, a warm feeling sweeping through him and he sighed. "A sacrifice worth making, huh?"

"Both times," Kurogane grumbled, closing his eyes and resting his head back against his pillow, almost as if he'd said nothing at all.

Feeling a grateful smile curl on his lips, Fye pushed himself upwards until he was sitting, gazing curiously about the room, feeling a now familiar twitch of agony shoot through his arms as he rose. "I paid for that arm, remember?" he found himself breathing in a torn and wearied breath, something between doting and mocking. "Seems a little ungrateful to go about breaking it, Kuro-tan…"

The ninja shifted about awkwardly, writhing on his futon and his brow creased thoughtfully, allowing Fye's teasing to wash over him. He'd had a lot of practice after all… "If it came to it," he admitted in a low and rumbling voice, "then I would do it again. Makes no sense to fight with a broken lump of metal hanging on. If I had to make that choice all over again, I'd gladly lose my arm…"

And Fye could hear those words hovering silently at the end of his sentence, hanging tenderly on the edge of his breath … the same as before.

He droped his gaze down to where Kurogane lies, smiling warmly, and gently shifts to lean over his body. "And I'm glad," he whispered, in a soft and hushed breath, reaching down and drawing a hand slowly across Kurogane's cheek, brushing his fingers over his tanned and roughened skin – exactly that of a warrior's. He smiled as he watched that tough and battle-worn exterior melt away, staring towards him in what could only be described as astonishment though not necessarily at the motion itself. It felt like the most natural thing in the world for Fye's hand to be caressing his skin. But he was not prepared to admit it at the time.

And now did not seem like the time for them to realise their desires no matter what battles they had fought side by side or wounds that had been lashed into their bodies as they stood together.

Time seemed to tick so fluidly, drawing to an awed and watchful crawl.

Fye withdrew his hand and stood, leaving the room without another word, only another smile, genuine, heartfelt and pained.

"Hey! You can't just do something like that and pretend it never happened!" Kurogane growled after him, snarling and turning his head about to hide the blush on his cheeks. "Bastard!"

- - -

In the end, lying side by side, they realise this slow and wandering tread of time has far greater power than either had imagined. It's a slow and lazy river, winding its way with blissful patience, gradually washing away the dirt beneath, swallowing it within its vast bulk and allowing it to swell scattered within the sea. Time picked at and broke apart a veil between them, each tick of the clock shattering ever more of the silent reserve and cautious observation, cast it off until both were confident of this feeling expanding with such wonderful life and hope, until both were completely aware. As the cuts healed over and the bandages were peeled away with a thankful relish, they looked at one another once again and found much more than the resolve to fight. It was timeless and strong, it was irrefutable and wonderful, something worth carrying on for.

We're both still alive.

The words sit in silence on the tips of their tongue, though there was no need to say such things.

"You wouldn't have died," Kurogane tells him instead, his one arm tucked into his robe, speaking with utmost certainty.

Fye only gives him one look and one smile, shining wonderfully as his hair was tossed about by the wind, standing in the garden filled with plush and blooming flowers in the thick summer air, the gentle waft of wind, a heavy scent of pollen in the dying breeze and the screech of the cicada, a sound natural and archaic trapped amongst the gleaming high-rises that encircled the shop. The smile throws Kurogane off-guard with its blatant honesty, its grateful shine and adoring perk, a little crease in the corner of his eyes. It stops Kurogane's heart beat almost completely.

He supposes it must have shown on his face because now Fye is grinning and laughing, sauntering over from the pond he'd been gazing into before his thought had been disturbed, staring with a sharp focus almost as if the glint of his brother's hair was still hidden beneath the water's depths. "Do you trust me now, Kuro-sama?" he asks, still smiling though the question he asks is serious. And for all its simplicity it hits Kurogane like a stone.

I'd trust you with my life, you damn liar.

"Tch, like I had a choice," he grumbles, snapping his gaze away.

It's all Fye needs for an answer, smiling serenely, almost laughing as he turns back to the pond.

Kurogane follows him, pacing forward until he stands alongside him, staring into their rippling reflections in the pond, undulating and shimmering in the dusk, gleaming gold and bright.

"I suppose it's time to be moving on," Fye eventually sighs though he smiles all the same, feeling hope stirring within him, feeling a destiny meant just for him unravel underfoot for the very first time. He glances towards Kurogane for a moment and is surprised to see him staring right back, eyes deep and knowing.

Someone to share my life with.

Fye laughs, prodding against his arm. "It's not like you to get sentimental over these things."

"Who said anything about that?" Kurogane growls, swatting away his hand and turning away but with markedly less frustration than usual, surprisingly little retaliation compared to normal.

A moment goes by, silent save for the rasping of leaves in the trees, the constant drone of cicadas and the distant clamour of the streets beyond, though they feel muffled in the spiritual tranquillity of this realm, diminished to a lifeless whisper as the city breathed about them. It feels surprisingly empty without the punctual click of the clock pendulum lulling them to rest.
But they can still feel time slipping away beneath their fingers.

Until Fye smiles. He gives a heavy sigh and he asks, stretching out his hand and laying it against Kurogane's shoulder, "Do I need to be the one to say it?"

Time groans on for another small moment, mindlessly, as Kurogane's blood freezes with Fye's hand on him, with a gentler, more caring smile trained on him.

"No," he eventually mumbles hoarsely, staring into the depths of the pond as he takes his one hand from his robe and lifts Fye's from his shoulder, clasps it there silently and dearly.

He feels Fye sigh with relief, stepping into him and resting against his side so intimately it makes Kurogane's heart throb with relish. As if they were finally standing somewhere they were both destined to be.

He squeezes the fingers of his hand, soft, cold and slender, beautiful to his touch… "No. You don't have to say anything," he repeats, if nothing to assure himself that this is what he wants.

For a while there is nothing again, bar the tentative sway and hum of the world about them, gentle and hesitant, the light touch of Fye's skin on his and the way his body presses against his so delicately, his heart catching in his mouth.

And then he feels Fye's lips on the base of his neck, planting a single kiss there, firmly, moistly. It seems to break apart time, rip apart the very concept…

"So I can come?" is all he asks in a simple breath, brushing his fingers against Kurogane's, though there is still strength within his voice, invincible, irresistible to Kurogane in each and every sense. To have travelled so far to meet a worthy opponent and find himself fighting at his side… strangely, he relishes the idea of Fye remaining by him. Like he could ever shake the damn idiot off him…

"That's Tomoyo's decision," he hears himself grunt, gazing down on him, on that knowing smirk curled on his lips.

But I want you there.

He can see through Kurogane like glass.

And there are those words again, lying heavily and unspoken in his throat because for the life of him, he has no idea what they were. He barely understands what he feels at that moment, what this pressing matter is that he needs to voice and can't wrap together the words within his mind.
Instead he lays a hand against Kurogane's cheek.

And Kurogane lets go of his hand and drops his lips to Fye's, wrapping his arm about his waist and roughly tugging him closer. They melt in relief, prickle in uncertainty, but then they feel the wet of each other's lips, that tender and soft press of skin that seems to render words as pointless, meaningless, inscrutable things. So Fye wraps his arms about Kurogane's neck and brings himself closer, sensing the months crumble behind him, and Kurogane's five fingers clasp preciously at the base of his back.

Time seems so subjective, it's worthless.

- - -

Inside the shop the two Mokonas giggle and cajole together as they peer through the gap in the panelling, singing excitedly, dancing, spinning, bouncing elatedly about the room, reunited once more. "It's love, love, love, love~"

- - -

a/n: I felt like posting this before it was made completely redundant ^^' It was written after chapter 228 where really Fye and Kurogane were just taking hit after hit after hit. Writing a recovery fic seemed the natural option :)