A/N: This is one of the angstiest things i've ever written...but i'll write a happier sequel, so just bear with it and revel in the angst.

"When I saw you, I was afraid to meet you... When I met you, I was afraid to kiss you... When I kissed you, I was afraid to love you... Now that I love you, I'm afraid to lose you."

The first time Fai saw Kurogane it was in front of the Dimensional Witch's house; the rain pouring on them, the exhilaration of magic still coursing through his veins, the trepidation of a journey about to commence aching in his body. He saw the boy, clutching to his princess with a desperation that bordered on the insane and a love in his eyes that verged towards the supernatural. And Fai had to admire it even though these beings had no hearts of their own.

Kurogane was apparently his name. Fai didn't want to look at him. Fai wished this ninja didn't have to travel with them, because out of all of his now-traveling companions, only Kurogane had any chance of a happy ending and Fai didn't want to ruin those chances. He didn't want to defile someone as pure as Kurogane. After all, the moment you met Fai, every bit of happiness you could ever potentially have was sucked away.

And this ninja…with the determination of a thousand soldiers fighting for their home in his blood red eyes, and the solemnity of a suicide mission set into his mouth…there was nothing that would stop this boy…this man from getting to where he wanted to go. It was the type of drive that Fai could only dream about. Fai would never be able to do what needed or wanted with an honorable path like the one forged for this man.

No. Fai would have to squirm and slip and sneak to get his way, because Fai wasn't an honorable, just person. He was a disgusting, slimy, dirty little thing—not even a man. He was an awful, pathetic excuse of one.

And so, as they were whirled into their first world—the start of their journey—Fai would only keep his eyes to himself, or at least anywhere but the ninja, because it was for Kurogane's own good that Fai didn't meet him. They could know each other, but they'd never meet.

Well. That was what Fai told himself. Fortunately, he could lie to himself as well as he could to others. It was a talent.

Despite Fai's attempts, despite everything the mage had tried, Kurogane was in. There were many firewalls and guards and gates surrounding Fai, and only the most skilled—the most experienced and gifted—could get through. Kurogane was obviously none of these, and yet, he'd gotten in faster, quicker, and with more ease than even Ashura. Either Kurogane was a madman, or Fai was losing his touch.

Perhaps it was both.

But whatever it was, Fai didn't like it. Whether he'd wanted to or not, he was now acquainted with the man. He knew Kurogane. It was only a matter of time before Kurogane would want to know him. Fai wouldn't allow that time to come. There was more than just a friendship on the line now. Not even the closest of friendships could explain this—explain why whenever Fai looked at the ninja, he wanted to know every single detail about him; explain why Fai's breath caught and stopped whenever he saw the ninja moving in battle, sword glinting, lips twisted into a smirk; explain why heat rushed to Fai's lower body whenever they were stuck in the same room and Kurogane was changing.

Fai had been terrified to meet this man. And now, against all his protests and terror and horror and refusals, he had been forced into knowing his man. There was presently a new terror hounding at Fai.

It was a friendship. One that would end as soon as Kurogane found his country and left. Nothing more. Fai could lie to himself as well as he could to Kurogane. And even though the latter could break through those deceits, Fai himself would continue to believe them. Yes, he had forged a friendship, but that didn't mean it would amount to anything more.

He was afraid to even touch the man.

The first time Kurogane kissed Fai was in Oto. Fai had claimed to be drunk, although he was as sober as a funeral attendee, and had had to be carried by the ninja to the bedroom. It was neither an act of desperation, purpose, or romance. It was simply that. An act. It neither meant nor signified anything.

At least, that was what Fai convinced himself.

Kurogane had simply bent too close and Fai had held on too tightly, and their lips accidentally brushed against the others by pure chance. Fai certainly hadn't held on even tighter when the contact of mouth-to-mouth had been magic beyond any that ever existed, and Kurogane certainly hadn't let out his tongue into Fai's mouth.

And most definitely, Fai hadn't slipped his hands into the ninja's shirt, because that would mean that Kurogane had slipped his into the mage's pants, which of course, he hadn't. Because if he had, it would mean that they were on the bed, hands all over each other, limbs entangled, and mouths drifting much farther below just the mouth.

Which hadn't happened at all. It just couldn't have happened. If it had happened—which it hadn't—it would also mean that Kurogane had looked at Fai with those determined bloody eyes of his, so clear and hard, and had a gaze that completely enraptured the mage, causing his heart to beg to be released because the throbbing was too much.

None of this could've happened. If it had, then it would mean that Fai was in love with Kurogane—which was completely and utterly an untruth. Fai couldn't love anyone, because no one would ever love him in return. It was impossible. Because if it was possible, then that would mean Fai would have to let Kurogane in. Not allow him to break in, but allow him in. As in, taking down those firewalls and guards and gates and all those iron locks that he'd wrought so firmly shut around the little shatters that were all was left of his heart.

And even though his talent was starting to decline, Fai had to believe that none of this was true. Taking down all those walls was terrifying.

The last time he'd removed them was when those irreparable shatters came to be in the first place.

The first time Fai and Kurogane had sex it was in Yama. It was mostly out of pure frustration and need that it happened. There was no premeditation about it. It simply happened. Almost by pure accident. There was no denying this one—not self-deception, because it did happen, and it was too real to convince himself that it hadn't.

Fai couldn't tell himself that it was a forced act; neither could he lie to himself that he hadn't enjoyed it, because he had. The act was magical—that was the only word to describe it, and even that didn't do it justice. It was as though he'd silently transferred all of his secrets and hidden regrets to Kurogane—a burden that was shared, even if not eradicated.

Kurogane was surprisingly gentle—gentle and rough at the same time. The oddest of equilibriums, Fai had to tell himself. The ninja looked like he would break Fai in half during sex, but it was completely the opposite. For some reason, Fai wanted to break Kurogane during the deed. And he wanted Kurogane to break him in return.

Fai didn't know if it was some sort of masochism that had reoccurred, but it felt as though Kurogane deserved some sort of painful reward for having destroyed all of Fai's carefully built guards, and Fai wanted the same pain for having given Kurogane any anguish or suffering at all. Fai felt as though every ounce, every milligram of pain that was administered to the ninja, he himself had to receive tenfold.

And when they'd both collapsed onto the other, naked and slick with perspiration, gratefully letting the cool night air blow in from the tent opening and slow their heartbeats and down their temperatures…Fai was gathering his strength so that as soon as the high was gone, he could immediately up and leave. He didn't know where, but he would leave the tent. Perhaps one of the fellow soldiers would allow him stay in theirs from then on.

He was about to do so, when a tanned hand—fingers heated and flushed—wrapped around his pale elbow, and the deep voice commanded in a murmur, "Stay." Fai didn't understand the language, but it was obvious what the meaning was. And he'd be damned if he did what the ninja requested.

Fai had already been damned from the minute he slipped through his mother's womb with another at his side. So stay he did.

Fai was terrified to meet Kurogane. He was terrified to touch Kurogane and become close. He was terrified to fall in love with Kurogane. All of these…because he was terrified to lose him.

The first time they made love was in Acid Tokyo. It was right after Kurogane returned from talking to the water guardians, and right when the ninja had found Fai crumpled on the ground—his heart in tatters and his mind in a whirlwind. The ninja knew it was his fault. Fai knew that the ninja didn't care.

Of course Fai was the one that was wrong. Wasn't he always?

It was Kurogane who knelt before the mage, softly asking in his rough voice if the idiot mage was all right? It was Kurogane who punched Fai's shoulder so gently that it felt like a breeze and growled at him for becoming a depressing maniac. It was Kurogane who placed the back of his large hand against the mage's white throat and whispered the quietest of apologies.

But it was Fai who looked up at him with renewed blue eyes. It was Fai who had resolved in his mind that he would interfere, because he would no longer stand for those dear to him that were in harm's way. It was Fai who swore from then on that Kurogane would never find himself in danger or suffering or hurt, because that was what Fai was for—it was the only thing he was good for; to be the substitute and the sacrifice.

Although, they both approached each other, lips absorbing the other's agony, the other's misery. They both entangled hands and limbs with each other. They both sent the other to the bed. They both guided the other's hands over the clasps and ties and buttons of the last world's clothes. They both sighed and gasped and moaned at painful desires and stinging pleasures. They both looked dazedly into each other's eyes and swore the unbreakable vow how neither of them would live without the other.

But then, how come when Kurogane tried to keep that promise the very next day, all Fai could say was, "Good morning, Kurogane"?

Facing your fears was difficult, yes.

Falling in love with them was a nightmare even the devil would call hell.