Kinda scared to be posting in this fandom, even though I've been a silent lurker for the better part of half a year. Everytime I write something, I think, yay, fic, finally! then I go Oh snap I swear I just mutilated their characters, must not post or I ruin the sanctity that is Tsubasa-!
And these two have the most complex dynamics I've ever tried to juggle before, so it's not helping. I swear I've written more experimental pieces for them than actual fics in other fandoms.
Disclaimer: Oh Yuuko, where are you when I need you?
Were anyone to see them and their interactions, they would think the ninja and mage both callous to each other.
Each might even think the same, but the truth was-
"Let him rest!" With furrowed brows and harsh voice, all that others would hear.
But he hears: the laboured beating of his heart, blood flowing through his body and out his numerous wounds, an unspoken, You know the dead cannot return, and even more quiet, Look to us now, to the future instead.
"The world... is collapsing by my magic." Mere reporting of facts, not even bothering to look to the other when speaking.
But he sees: drooping eyelids like that of his princess after a taxing spell, the tightening at the corner of his mouth like before a chess match in that world of black and white, the shift in the blue eyes that always preceded him barely scraping back into life in defence of this rag-tag bunch of travellers.
"What's wrong?" Cold, impersonal, not asking after the other's welfare despite the blood spattering onto black gloves.
But he feels: the shifting of the burden of protection onto broad black shoulders so suited for the task, a sharpening of focus onto the pressing issues, shoving aside what was not necessary for the moment so that there would be a later in which to clean everything else up.
"Go!" Firm, pushing his arm against the fist clenched onto his bony wrist, without even a 'goodbye' to his long-time companion.
But he tastes: the tang of determination hanging between them both, a wisp of sorrow and acceptance, the bittersweet bite of a million apologies.
The release of a coat-clad arm, silence above the rumble of the collapsing world, and a withdrawal from the other man without so much as an acknowledgement.
But he smells: the scent of something shifting into place and a decision made, the incense of his prey in preparation for him to feed, the tendrils of hitsuzen as it tightens its hold around the both of them.
The bright unsheathing of a sword, then the light flashing off the blade as he swings it through flesh and bone and lets it all drop to the ground with his sword, next to the vampire whose eyes flash golden at the scent of his food.
But he knows: the inescapable urges of a vampire's body that mask the mage with the reactions of a blood-sucking monster, the fact that beyond the wide-eyed shock is a soul screaming What the fuck did you do that for, Kurogane!, and a certainty that for him, for them all, he would do this again and again and again until they all got the point, and again after that.
A fist grabbing the folds of his blood-stained coat, pulling him out with brute strength that could easily kill him.
But he understands: finally, what the ninja had meant when he demanded that he live, why he had so easily bound himself to the wretch that was only half of what was once whole, and how he could possibly, just possibly, make this all right again.
Were anyone to see them and their interactions, they would think the ninja and mage both callous to each other.
Each might have even thought the same, but the truth was-
Both hope: that he might hear even a single Kuro-sama from those pale lips once again, that he might somehow find peace with this man who had cared enough to tear past his masks and find the scared boy that bled his fingers on the brick walls of an endless tower, that Mommy and Daddy could reconcile and the family could all be together again.
A fist finds its way onto a black-haired head-
A fiery curse bites its way past grinning teeth-
The world begins to right itself.