Lyn's Fic Journal

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T09:04:09Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 12 "Help Himself" - End
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 427
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

"...Cain, where did my underwear go?"

"Hm?"

"Where is my underwear?"

"Why the hell should I know?"

"Cain."

"What."

"I am not wearing a thong."

"Guess you'll have to go commando, princess."

"I am not going commando into this meeting, Cain."

"Then wear what's in your drawer."

"Cain!"

"Christ, you're a whiny bitch today..."

"Please just give me back my underwear--"

I tugged his arm, splaying him against my chest. I grinned as his face flushed red with a scowl. His ass was a perfect fit in my hands.

"How about you give me something first."

He let out a delightful gasp when my fingers dug between his cheeks. "C-Cain w-w-we already did it last night and I really need to-"

"Oh suck it up, you pussy," I purred along his ear, giving it a wet lick.

I was hit it the head with a shoe.

"Stop molesting Lieutenant Abel, Cain."

"Goddamn it, Judas!"

"Here, Lieutenant. I saw them under the bed."

"Th-Thank you, Judas."

"Fucking little prick... Why are you even here?"

"I'm here to escort Lieutenant Abel to the meeting." - he grabbed Abel's arm with a smile and I twitched - "Because I knew you'd make him late again."

"Judas.. the commanders... they don't--"

"Don't worry about it, Lieutenant. I don't want to see you get in 'trouble'. Besides, it's all the lecher's fault."

"Hmph," I smirked. "You just want me to yourse--"

"As if," he drawled. The little bastard had the nerve to flip me off.

"You--!"

HELLO.

Slim fingers had me between the legs. Would have been nice if it didn't feel like he wanted to rip it off. I bit back a curse.

"Cain. Behave." He squeezed.

"Tch..!"

"I really don't know how you live with him all over you, Lieutenant."

I rubbed at my sore pride as Abel got up and dressed, rolling my eyes. "Says the brat who couldn't stop flirting with me."

"I was not flirting with you!" he sputtered. "I was just.. I was just being nice!"

"Ignore him, Judas."

Glancing, I watched Abel go to the door. He picked up his other cane as Judas stood next to him, looking between us. It got quiet for a second.

Sliding out his hip, smirking like a fox, and cocking his head, he cooed;

"He just can't help himself."

I stared at him.

The door hissed shut.

Groaning, I fell back against the bed.

"I'm so pounding you into the floor when you get back, you little cock-tease."

But that's what I love about you.

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:59:31Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 11 "Freedom"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 752
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

...huh?

"...enem.. retreat... ..pull ba..!"

What...

"Lieut.. ...bel, come in!"

"..mmn..."

"...tenant, can.. ...ear me?"

"C... Can.."

"W... ..ending out res.. teams... ..hold..."

"Hur.. rry..."

Something's... dripping..

"Cai-ain..?"

"Bast'rds 're run.. runnin' off..."

Why does he still sound like that?

I was numb by then. Forcing off my harness, I rolled out of my chair to the floor. A spike of blackness blindsided me.

"Bunch... a' pussies.."

I pulled myself through the small gap to his side of the ship.

He was leaning against the window of the cockpit, head slouched forward. I strained to reach for him - my twitching hand gripped his knee - and he turned just slightly to look at me. Our sights locked.

Crimson hit with a dull thud against the black of his suit.

Somehow, my world had managed to stay intact - until just that moment.

It started to crumble.

I could see muscle and tendon, and the barest edge of his jugular - barely saved - thrumming hard and glistening wet. Bile turned my stomach to rot.

Drip.

Suddenly, the ship lurched, and I doubled over into his lap.

"This is Rescu... ..CC, Lieutenant Abel.. ... ...ured. Returni... ...base."

A sticky hand stroked through my hair.

I heard him feel what he didn't say.

And I fell asleep.

But I didn't just sleep.

I dream.

I dream that he reaches into my soul with his eyes.

Everything that's ever been kept secret comes tumbling out.

I'm useless when he takes me.

My nails sink their fangs into his skin.

There's a sob clenched in my lungs at the pain.

A laugh soars though my belly from the pleasure.

Tenderly, he seals a kiss to the hollow of my throat.

We breathe.

This stranger - this monster - this savior - this angel - this amazing creature breaks me open.

I call his name like a prayer.

His lips sigh mine against my ear.

Without even realizing it, I've given my all to him.

It terrifies - exhilarates - amuses - releases me.

I've found my freedom.

This is my nirvana.

My sweet sickness is now a cure.

A drug I will always crave.

I never want this to end...

But now there's blood.

And it comes from him.

I'm tearing into his shoulders and it pours like rain down his arms.

Drips into the curve of his collarbone.

Pools as a red buttercup held to his chin.

I hear myself screaming now.

You can't leave me you said you would but you can't.

The heart in my chest will continue beating...

"There's more than one way to kill someone."

"Abel."

I woke up.

The quiet in the room was one I'd become well familiar with. No voices, but ticking equipment and light-beeping monitors hummed in the background. I was once again in the medical dorm.

There was no surprise this time.

Justin strode in. Meeting my gaze, he paused, then became soft with a gentle smile. "Well, good morning," he murmured, halting at my side.

I returned his simper;

"Good morning."

Pulling a chair close, he sat down. "We didn't expect you to be fully conscious so soon. Do you remember what happened?"

"For the most part," I replied, uneasy, drawn to peer at the door. "H-How... how long have I..?"

He chuckled, and I relaxed. "Three days, and not consistently. You would respond to people entering the room, and even answer 'yes' or 'no' if spoken to. I believe your mind was doing its damnedest to get you to open your eyes."

I gave a nod..

In all seriousness, I didn't care how or why I was alive. I didn't care about how we'd apparently won, drove off our attackers, and done the impossible. I figured I'd find out soon enough - and to anyone listening, you probably don't care how or why right now, either.

The same question as before was lit up neon-bright inside my brain.

"No, not for a while now."

But the answer had different potential. There were no gray areas that it could stew in; no other criteria it had to meet - besides the two. Black, or white.

Yes, or no.

Good, or gone.

...And then, it occurred to me.

"..It's the survival."

Beneath the sheets, my shaking hands stilled.

"To be alive, to experience both pain and pleasure."

My thoughts cleared.

I remember when you said that.

"Justin."

I understand.

He blinked up from the chart in his hands. "Yes, Abel?"

For better or worse...

"Have you seen Cain?"

...just live.

His smile grew.

"He's waiting outside."

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:54:22Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 10 "This"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 929
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

I smooth back the skin of his cheek, cool against my knuckles.

His face still looks flushed, and my eyes narrow, grinning. Last night had sure been something. He's never gone off that wild before - never gotten him to come so many times - never had him beg and scream so loud the whole starbase probably heard him.

Not that I mind. It's my name. Now they all know who owns this tight little ass.

And damn, if he doesn't want to be owned. I could tell it the second I first saw him; he wants to be slammed into submission and made to bleed. The only thing I hadn't picked up on, was that it's his own mind - and not some fetish stolen from another bed - that's made him this way.

Which is sexy as hell.

Bastard has the sluttiest imagination I could have asked for.

God... I shift up, leaning over his body. My pride swells - he's fucking covered in hickeys, ears to feet. It's satisfyingly beautiful, frankly, to see all that pale naked velvet stained black and blue by my mouth.

He's mine, mine, mine.

I'm inspecting a dark welt on his chest with my tongue, when I feel him stir and tense. Lifting my head slightly, I watch him stare. He does this every time he wakes up; it's like he's waiting for a dream to end - sort of confused, and wary, with sleep still clouding his vision.

But, then he blinks, and sags, and reaches out to just barely touch my hair. As if he's afraid I might run away or something. There's a smile on his lips, though - small and real - and that's enough to make the rest not matter.

"Cain..." Oh, fuck, that's hot--

Ow, he's pulling on my bangs pretty hard, the naughty bitch..

...wait, why does he look... scared? Abel? The hell's wrong?

"Cain... ..Cain..!"

Stop squirming around-- god damn my scalp is on fire-- Abel snap out of it why are you cryi--!

"Cain...! Wake up, Cain..!"

'Wake up'..?

"Please, Cain!"

"CAIN!"

My eyes rolled open. Everything was spinning. I couldn't breathe right.

And holy shit did I hurt all fucking over.

Especially my skull and my throat.

Over the gargle of warning bells, I could hear wailing.

"Cain if you don't fucking wake up this fucking second god so fucking help me when I get out of this fucking chair I'm going to fucking fuck your sorry ass...!"

Has he ever cussed me out like that?

It probably would have turned me on if I hadn't been swimming in an abyss of pain.

"A--"

Dear Christ, like swallowing glass...

I coughed, groaned, and wheezed; "Abel, shut up, I'm fine.."

"Cain!"

What in--...

---"Get the ship back to base!"

---"Turn the fuck around, Abel--!"

---Flash.

---Crash.

---Lights out.

We hit that ship..

I realized that I was slumped over - way over, lying across the dashboard. My arms shook as I slowly pushed myself up, and I could taste blood flowing between my teeth. Something wet was running down into my suit.

I glanced down.

A shoulder strap from the safety harness dangled uselessly over my arm. Piece of shit had snapped in half. I was also no longer wearing my helmet.

For good reason, I guess, seeing how my forehead must have been what'd shattered my display screen.

My fingers stumbled a path towards my neck.

Sour stones rolled through my gut. Under my chin, it was cut open and gaping. I gripped the handles of the gun turret tightly.

I should have been paying attention to what was in front of us--,

"Cain?" - fear was thick in his voice - "Cain, what is it?"

"CC ... tenant ... .. st..."

"Are you alright?"

"... anti-ma .. ...one ..minu..."

Surprise colored it. "I.. ...I'm okay--" He sucked in a sharp breath.

"Is it your back?" I murmured. I wasn't exactly trying too hard to talk louder.

Any louder and he'll hear how fucked up my throat is...

"L-little... ..Cain what is it, y-you sound--"

"How's the ship?"

"...w.. we're at-- nnh... f-fifty-two percent.."

I closed my eyes. Damn it.

Burst thrusters were almost out completely of the question. Hell we were lucky to even be alive. I didn't know where we were; I doubted it was out of the way of the starbase's anti-matter cannon, and not being able to tell the countdown had my pulse in a buzz.

I felt stupid.

This wasn't how I wanted to go down - floating dead in the water, torn up and about to be eradicated by our own base.

".. to ... .. thi ..."

And, god, Abel..

At that moment, I really did feel like I'd failed him.

"...Cain.."

..His...

Tone..

...propelled me to open my eyes, and turn slightly towards his side of the ship.

"The nav... h-hub is stuck... I can't m-move it.."

Oh well that's fucking grea--

"Cain..."

Again, his tone... it somehow put everything - all of this - into perspective. Almost like, he and I weren't sitting in here, waiting for it to end. He sounded light-years away; he sounded defeated, but peaceful.

He sounded alone.

"We.. ...en.."

"Back.. when we w-were in the.. the war and I..."

".. in .."

"...I got hurt... ..I-I wanted to t--.. to tell you s-something.."

"... t."

There was an anxious silence.

".. eve .."

"Tell me what?" I ventured, bordering morbid curiosity.

"Si..."

What are your last words going to be?

".. ive."

What are mine going to be?

"Four."

...tell me what, Abel?

"... re .."

"...I love you."

"Tw .."

"..."

".. ne!"

Fuck no wait stop!

"ABEL!"

"Cain..!"

...

...huh?

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:47:04Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 9 "Overload"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 775
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

We can do this.

Much of what I remember from the actual launch is a blur. I wasn't showing it, but I hurt like no tomorrow. Being thrown out into space didn't exactly help that fact, even if the adrenaline did come in useful.

But, my god, it was worth it.

This was my element.

The weapon I'd come to understand inside and out.

Most of all, I was with him again - sharing an experience that we only felt when the two of us were working together, in total sync.

For what felt like a lifetime, however, we did nothing but hover close to the starbase. If you strained your eyes, you might have been able to find it. Our own system wasn't enough to see, but central command could.

A cloud.

"CC to all ships: anti-matter cannon firing in thirty seconds."

It was slowly getting bigger as it blew our way.

"Twenty."

My gaze slid towards the roof of the starfighter.

"Fifteen."

I watched some distant point of light fluttering in the blackness.

"Ten."

Don't go out.

"Five."

"Abel."

"Four."

I came back to the moment.

"Three."

"Your ass is mine when this is over."

"Two."

An orb of heat drifted through my gut.

I breathed.

"One."

"Deal."

Light burst at the base of the cloud. Time stood still, then a ripple tore through the middle, scattering pieces outwards. Waves of its aftershock convulsed and billowed, painting that lingering 'black star' in a beautiful display.

The damage appeared catastrophic.

Howls of excitement crackled over the intercom.

He and I were silent.

As the core of the formation writhed in destruction, those unaffected were regrouping. Their rate of approach tripled. I swung the ship around to face them, hit the thrusters, and gripped the navigation hub.

Here we go.

I dipped down and circled up. He disintegrated the two targets that'd been coming right at us. Completing the loop, I barely had to think about dodging; he was as quick and amazing as ever.

With a tap and a spin, we broke out of the fray to slip back in.

At that instant, the size of this new enemy was clear, more than before..

They spanned the entire length of the starbase.

Too close...

"Cain the front--"

"Just get me there."

I sent us speeding along one edge - he took out targets while sparring allies. It wasn't so much that they were formidable; simply they were too many. You could punch a hole in one spot just for it fill up behind you. Five targets down were replaced by ten.

This is endless..

Brake, pause, push and twist -

"CC to all ships:"

Our friends were starting to fall around us like flies.

"Anti-matter cannons ready in ten minutes."

I faltered.

Are they going to tell us to stay out--

"Abel!"

A blink; I jerked the starfighter around. Our enemy shattered and we careened through the debris. My heart was beating frantically in my throat.

"Where the fuck is your head?!" he barked angrily.

Half of the navigation hub was swirling in darkness, and at first I couldn't tell what it was..

I shifted.

Fire scorched through my neck.

It was like a bomb had gone off inside my skull

I gasped and fell forward.

[ WARNING ]

I could feel the ship; we were hurling through space without a direction.

[ SYSTEM OVERLOAD ]

No come on you have to do this--

"This is CC to Lieutenant Abel - reduce your speed!"

I drug my nails against the smooth orb and forced myself back. A scream of something shook my chair, and I realized that it was me. He barked something else, but I can't really remember what it was...

"Lieutenant?"

"Lieutenant Abel to CC situation is under control." - I couldn't feel my chest - "Reengaging the enemy what's the status of the anti-matter artillery..?"

"Ab--" his protest died out as I gave him targets to play with.

Don't think about me, just fight.

"Five minutes out and counting."

"Thank you, CC."

My arms were jumping against my control. All the muscles in my body were straining, trying to rid my nerves of this reoccurring-horror. A sob left my lungs with every exhale, and I just could not help it.

The enemy was steadily closing the gap to the starbase.

This is all I can give..

"Cain..."

It hurt to hear myself like that; weak, powerless, falling apart and making him listen to it.

"...ship... to.."

Nothing filtering through my ears was making any sense.

"Turn... ..around...!"

That's when we smashed head-first into an enemy ship.

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:36:01Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 8 "Time"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 724
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

I almost considered waiting.

Hell, I wanted to. Molest him in that sexy black leather. He looked down-right sinful in it - such a contrast to his baby skin.

Maybe just a little--

RED ALERT

I winced.

MILITARY PERSONEL TO HOLDING DOCK C0103
TRAINEES TO HOLDING DOCK A0087
AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTION UPON ARRIVAL
THIS IS NOT A DRILL

"Fuck this alarm system." My ears were ringing.

Moving away from the door, I got back in the elevator. You don't need a clearance card to go to a lower floor, thankfully. I turned his over in my hand.

A buzz of frenzied bodies made me squint in annoyance. Everyone in the holding dock was making one hell of a god-awful racket. Most of the seasoned teams stood closer to the ladders, while all the rookies and near-sub-rookies were fumbling around to get ready.

Judas was staring at me. I raised an eyebrow, and I swear the brat turned green.

I had to laugh.

Don't think the parrot's gonna bother me anymore.

...But I guess, I was worried.

Not about me. Not about losing. Not about how much time there was left.

Those were all moot points - I am the best; we only lose if we don't fight back; who cares how much time we have. I had no interest in turning soft because of this 'threat'. Wasn't me.

But it was him.

The taste of it had been sour in his mouth. He was in a state of panic - desperation - and while part of me was spurred to fuck it out of him - make him scream and let it go - my stomach churned bitterly. There really isn't much that takes away the loom of an impending death.

Not even amazing sex, sad as it is...

The gathering went quiet as the alarm cut off.

I snorted. "About f--"

"Attention, everyone."

He stood up on a bench, blond hair slicked against his cheeks, breathing heavy. There was no cane in his hand; it came close to surprising me. I hadn't thought he'd go and be and idiot.

Or, well, that much of an idiot.

"My name is Lieutenant Abel.." he went on. "And I'm here to tell you about the... nature, of the battle before us."

His tone faded in and out, unsure and subdued; "...The enemy we now face, will outnumber us ten to one. They have already reduced another starbase to dust. And while we will be prepared.. the odds... are with them."

I rolled my eyes at the resulting murmur of gossip. He cleared his throat slightly, and a hush fell over the group again. There were a lot of people with hopeful looks, gazing at him like he was God.

"..many of you see me as someone with all the answers," he murmured; it was obvious. "All the plans, all the right decisions. For the war six months ago... I did. But I don't, this time. This time.."

I caught his eyes on a glance.

Come on, Abel.

They sharpened, and he lifted his head.

"...it's up to us. All of us. This time, we fight for more than just ourselves. We fight for more than just the next alarm. This time we fight for every man, woman and child living here, our home, our future.

"This time.. there is no other order than to kill every single goddamn bastard who thinks they can wipe us out. Who thinks we will just lay down and die, because they have the advantage. This time, we will show them who we are and what we can do. This time...

"We will win."

Roaring agreements shot through the air, just as the alarms screeched:

RED ALERT
SPECIFIED PERSONEL
REPORT TO LAUNCH DOCKS A0087 AND C0103
STANDBY FOR LAUNCH SEQUENCE AND COUNTDOWN

I pushed against the crowd. He let the others file out before slowly climbing off the bench. I caught his elbow, and I smirked.

"So. I see you still have some fight left in you."

It pleased me to see him smirk - albeit small - in return.

"Think you can keep up?" he rasped.

I growled, tugging him close to snap at his ear. "You bet your ass, princess."

His hand squeezed my shoulder. I let him go. With barely a limp, he stepped to a ladder, and I followed him up.

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:29:17Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 7 "Endless"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 695
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

I looked at Cain.

And I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

The arguing in the room faded to a muted echo.

My heart hammered in my throat.

Horrific images of the war sprang to life inside my mind. Blood, fear, excruciating pain; the lingering haunt of the endless void just around the corner. It made my hands shake, and my wounds twinge.

But this was different. Much different. We had no place to run.

...We're going to die.

Yet, it was obvious that he didn't fully understand. Life - as I thought it meant to him - was an endless thing, death only an extension. There would be nothing that he'd regret - nothing he'd take with him to his grave to toss and turn over.

He'd give it his all, and if his all wasn't enough, then he'd accept the inevitable.

In that moment--

I wish I were like you..

His hand gripped my arm again; something I hadn't seen before prickled his features. Only for a second, though, as steel slid back into place - I distantly remember someone asking a question - and he leveled a firm stare on our surrounding company. All of the shouting stopped.

The ring of his voice brought me back to the present.

"I'm fighting with him."

Commander Thomas spoke, his expression a gentle one; "Do you not already have a navigator?"

Memory of the boy I'd noticed earlier flashed through my head, and I hesitated. The wound on his lip... Before I could follow the thought any further, he was speaking.

"That brat is a replacement that you slapped me with," he all but seethed. "My navigator is here. Send Judas to someone else."

Hot sparks of shocked excitement jolted my nerves. Did he just literally claim me? In front of everyone?

"..So be it, then."

I glanced back; our Commander and Chief was watching us curiously, almost intrigued. Amazingly, no one opened their mouths to go against him. Soft relief doused the panicked burning of my uncertainty.

"He's in your care, now, Cain. Dismissed."

David and Joseph strode from the room first. As he led me out, and we got into the elevator once again, I chanced eye-contact with him. He refused it; face an indifferent painting.

What are you thinking...

Now outside my door, I tried a little more.

"Cain--"

He stepped into me, stretched me against the cool metal, and kissed me roughly. The throb he'd raised in me before lurched back to attention; I couldn't help a moan. Consuming, he ravished my mouth, dominated my tongue, drew hot slick lines along the roof of my pallet. My back arched in a warm swell of rekindled passion.

Firm hot flesh was pulsing hard against my hip, and I gave it a nudge. His fingers tightened on my upheld wrists, and he moved, rewarding me with a sensuous molding of our bodies. I could feel all of him - from the sculpted planes of his chest, to his lean muscled stomach, down into the growing heat trapped between us.

I could have cried. It was a dream to experience my Cain again after so long. I'd missed him so fucking much.

Make me yours again.

Getting to the bed was a blur of clothes, breath and skin. I thanked whoever was listening that my spine no longer hurt; I wanted to know another sort of ache again. He palmed my rear with clear purpose, rolling our desires together, while his teeth attacked my throat hungrily. Dragging my nails across his shoulders, I felt them quiver and twitch.

The alarms went off again.

We both fell still.

Intense waves of frustration filled the bedroom, and he pried himself away from me.

"Suit up," he murmured above me, before pushing up and getting to his feet, still fully dressed. I heard the hallway door open and then rush closed. Quiet crept in.

Cold.

Worse than that moment I was injured in the war. Worse than the blankness of my coma. Worse that the last three months of solitude.

I was left cold, and alone, and even though I could comprehend why we had to stop...

Just one more time..

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:21:54Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 6 "Death-Mission"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 1,186
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

Damn it all to hell.

A curt knock sounded through the door. "Lieutenant Abel, sir?"

He shot me a nervous look. I cocked an eyebrow. It hadn't crossed my mind that I shouldn't be in his room.

And in there, hatched an idea.

"Ye--ES!?"

I smirked against his ear.

"...Sir? Are you alright?"

His shoulders quivered when I rolled my hand along his crotch again.

"Well? Answer him," I purred. I loved watching how it made him squirm and flush. He was too damn delicious for his own good.

"I-I.. I'm fine... --nn.. What is it?"

Rearranging him to recline in my lap, I lazily explored his body for the hem of his pants, giving him a squeeze. The low moan that crept out from his throat sent my nerves tingling in a fiendish delight. He wasn't trying to get away at all.

Oh this is fun.

"...I'm here to escort you to the meeting, sir. You may have gathered from the alarms that it's urgent."

"O--... Ohh.. O-Okay... um.. mmh..."

"Sir..?"

I had him arching and shuddering in my grasp. Seemed he was over his back pain, now. But, as I leisurely stroked his hot skin into a fevered hardness, 'meeting' caught my attention.

"Tell him you're fine by yourself," I ordered lowly.

"Cain," he breathed, face tossed back into my shoulder.

"Go on." My tongue found purchase on his bottom lip.

The person outside sounded fidgety. "Lieutenant, sir?"

Good.

His sentence sped on by. "It's alright I can make it on my own... nnnn.."

He wasn't questioned. "Very well, sir."

Hips bucked achingly against my touch. God I was tempted, but it'd have to wait. I removed my fingers languidly; it earned me a lusty glare.

I grinned - after what felt like way too long.

So easy.

"Let's go to that meeting, then, hm?" I leered.

He shoved at me, fixing up his clothes with shaky movements. "Jerk."

"When we get back, sweet-cheeks."

Face darkening, he looked around - for that other cane, probably - before something clicked. There was a confused cautiousness in his glance. At least I was prepared when he finally picked up on the obvious.

"'Us'? 'We'?"

"That's what I said."

His wary tone morphed into stubbornness. "You aren't coming with me."

"Like hell I'm not," I asserted. "I wanna know why starfighter missions are happening so fucking often. This is my chance."

It'd really gone far enough. Even though flying through space and blowing things up were every guy's dream, there'd been too many close-calls for me to enjoy it now. Half-knowing you were going to survive was one thing; seeing your life flash before your eyes was another.

Now he was all irritation. "No."

"You can't even stand up," I snorted.

He opened his mouth - and I slung him across my shoulder.

"O-Ow... Cain!"

I parroted back my favorite phrase: "Relax, princess."

An interesting lack of further complaint followed - I didn't feel like analyzing why. All I really knew was that a perfect shiver skittered down his legs every time my hand rubbed his ass. I was kept fairly entertained while using his swipe-card to access the main deck of the starbase.

Placing him back on his feet while still in the elevator, I took hold of his forearm and helped him out when we arrived. I spared a short moment to again realize how fragile this man really was. With his head-strong attitude, it was simple to forget - but as he leaned into me heavily, relying on my support to even move, I was sharply reminded.

You really did come close to dying..

We were met with the perplexed stares of seven other people. They were all standing around a large hologram table, diagrams and charts mixed together. One I recognized as the old goat who had... well, frankly seen through my act of indifference.

I ignored the smug twinkle in his eye.

"Lieutenant Abel, glad you could join us," said the tall, lumbering man at the head of the table; the Commander and Chief of the starbase.

"Who is this?" snapped the midget to his right - I knew that bastard. He'd come waltzing onto the fighter deck just to cuss us out on a daily basis. I stood straight and gave him a hard look.

"Task name 'Cain'. I was assisting Lieutenant Abel." Commander Ass-Wipe scowled at my lack of honor.

The man closest to the door - a short thing with bright eyes - paled. I cast him a subtle, amused smirk. Must have been the voice from earlier; he knew exactly what I meant.

"Thank you, then, Cain," our Chief replied. "You are dismissed."

I don't think so.

"I request permission to stay, sir."

"On what grounds, Private Cain?" barked the midget.

"The men and I deserve an explanation for these asinine death-missions, wouldn't you say?"

"Cain!" Abel snapped quietly. The midget had an expression of being kicked in the nuts. I waited for our Chief; who, like any real leader, was thoughtfully considering my question.

After a long moment, he finally gave a nod. "Very well, Cain."

My victory was not long-lived.

"We received reports from a neighboring starbase about four hours prior," our Chief began. "What they described was... disturbing. A fleet of the size of a small planet was in the process of tearing the base to pieces. As of an hour ago, we lost communications. However, due to the constant stream of attack laid upon us recently, we have reason to suspect that their enemy has turned its sights on us."

...Well, fuck.

At my side, Abel was a rigid plank of disbelief. The others in the room had grown quite sober. Personally, I was right fuming; if they thought this starbase was going to be just as pathetic, they had another thing coming.

"As such," he continued. "Lieutenant Abel," - he lifted his gaze - "I entrust you to gather the troops and inform them of the disaster we wish to avoid."

Our Chief wasn't finished. "Second Lieutenant David and Lieutenant Joseph, you are to put the trainees into teams and prepare them for battle."

Even I blinked in surprise.

"W-With all due respect, sir," Abel stuttered, incredulous. "The trainees are not--"

"We need everyone we can to get into a fighter, Lieutenant Abel," he interrupted grimly. "I am not disillusioned to the sacrifice this will turn out to be. But it must be done."

For a moment, the floor was the most amazing thing in the room.

"Then I will fight, as well."

What?

I gave his elbow a warning tug. Shrugging me off, he straightened up and narrowed his gaze. The little bastard was serious.

"That's preposterous," the annoying midget scoffed. "With your injuries there is no way you can pilot a starfighter."

"My instincts are still intact, as are my arms," he protested soundly. "If everyone is needed, then I'm not excluded."

Before anyone else could speak, the smug-bat from before piped up. "And who will be your fighter, Lieutenant Abel?"

Without a pause, he turned softly.

"Him."

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:16:57Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 5 "Determination"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 809
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

He didn't say anything.

For a full ten seconds, he didn't say anything at all. Distaste was a painted mask of false expression; his eyes held the truth. Taut with a stare of subdued offense, they began to lose their shine.

And it was slowly terrifying me. The small pause made the room feel electrified, dark and imposing. I was waiting for it to swallow me up.

No I didn't mean that that wasn't what I wanted to...

But I underestimated him.

His hand abruptly darted out to grip my chin and squeeze it hard, bordering on hurt. Yet, his gaze had changed. Though he appeared like wolf - barring his teeth, nails pricking my skin - I did not see rejection reflecting back.

It was determination.

"You can hate me all the fuck you want," he said, voice a clipped bark. "But you are going to tell me, when the fuck you woke up. Because it sure as shit wasn't today, or yesterday, or even last week. And I want to know, who the fuck I get to rip apart, for not fucking telling me, that my navigator was alive."

...They were words that I hadn't ever dreamed could come out of his mouth.

His navigator...

My chin was throbbing, but I didn't want him to let go - and he didn't. He held me there, brow knit in a scowl, demanding me an answer. As my resistance drained away, I felt more accursed tears turn my eyelashes damp.

"Three months," I croaked.

I watched as every muscle in his body drew up and tensed. There were surely going to be wounds on my chin from the pressure in his grasp. His face was a swirl of shock, blood-thirst, and..

..Guilt..?

No, that couldn't be what that was. Not from him... he never took the blame for anything. Why should he be...

"Why didn't you come and find me?" he snapped, but it was without any venom this time.

For whatever reason, he wasn't actually blaming me.

Then I saw it - as only I could see it.

He was losing some sort of internal struggle; his jaw shifted restlessly. The fingers on my face were subtly flexing back and forth, while his shoulders strained in an effort to hide his agitated breathing. His hate was an introverted one.

The person he wanted to rip apart, was himself.

Something within me broke, and I whimpered, unable to control it. I'd forgotten that - deep down inside - I really did need him. Running away had only drawn me closer.

Why didn't I come and find you? Because...

"I didn't think you wanted me to."

I closed my eyes..

A solid, slow-descending weight trapped me comfortably against the mattress. I winced when I was rolled over, and blinked when I stopped on top of something warm. Chancing an upwards glance, he was sitting back on the headboard of the bed, I now gathered in his lap, as he looked down at me.

His thumb smoothed against my scar.

"I told you, didn't I?" he said, eyes flickering with intent. "You belong to me."

Silver ripples of forbidden pleasure arced down my spine like a healing balm.

When he molded his touch to the rise of my cheek, I leaned into him. I won't lie and say that I was not still bothered by all that had taken place; the sting of being alone for so long, and my battered pride for accepting him back so soon, made it abundantly clear that I'd have other problems along the way. This wouldn't be over in one night.

Right then, though...

It can wait.

Tilting, my neck brought up my head, and with a rose-petal lightness, my lips found his.

Certainly didn't last long; he instantly plundered the cavern of my mouth with an eager tongue, stroking my own into a lewd tangle. I moaned, hot and anxious, not having expected that even though in hindsight I should have. My fingers wound themselves in the spikes of his hair while his traced greedy patterns all over me.

Knives twisted into my back and I jerked hard, ripping my head away to exclaim in agony.

"Shit-- easy, calm down," I heard him order over the pounding in my head. He eased me back onto the bed, and the pain lessened. Shuddering on a breath, I came back to my senses and felt his arms around me.

"Do you have meds or something to make you stop whining?" I felt him say more than heard.

Internally, I smiled. Whining; he'd made me do more than 'whine' in bed before and it hadn't stopped him then. No, he knew that I was in real pain - the bastard was being sly about it.

He really does care..

I pressed into him softly. "Cain..."

Red-alert sirens wailed to life.

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:12:08Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 4 "How Long"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 737
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

I don't even want to talk about how the little shit landed a hit on me.

I'd never wanted to kill him half as much as I did right then, though. The hell was that for?! He was the one who barged into my room.

You're alright..

When I tore off after him - Judas, an inconsequential object easily swept aside - he was already ducking into the elevator. Or, well, it was more he fell into the elevator. His foot was in the way of the doors; I lunged just as he pulled it back and they went to close.

At the last second, I was able to thrust out my arm through gap. The elevator made a buzzing noise and quickly parted the doors again. There was a growl forming in my throat as I stepped in to loom over him.

...But I couldn't hold onto my rage at the sight.

Shivering, tense, back arched away from the elevator wall, his face was contorted into the most horrific expression of pain I'd ever seen. I knelt beside him, trying to ignore how my stomach tightened. My fingers caught his.

"Breathe."

His chest didn't move.

"Breathe!"

This time he obeyed. In went a gasp, and out flew a scream. I'll admit that it startled me; I was momentarily thankful that we were alone.

He turned into a writhing mess, slumping over and scrabbling at his back with his nails. I still had his right hand captured, and I used it to pull him upright. Another cry of torture shook the elevator.

My god, what did you do?

It was then that I finally noticed him clutching something; a cane. That was what he must have smacked me with. I supposed it was a fitting irony.

With more caution than I care to go into, I gingerly lifted him into my arms. A choked whimper left his mouth; his face was awash with tears. The elevator came to a stop. I blinked rather stupidly as the doors revealed the crew-deck of the starbase - you had to have clearance to even press the button for this floor.

How in the...

There was a sinking feeling pooling in the bottom of my lungs. I glanced; on the floor of the elevator was a thin, white rectangle, with black laser-lettering of 'F.L. Abel' etched into the side facing us. I shifted him slightly to bend and retrieve it.

First lieutenant. My mind went quiet. He was a first lieutenant.

You did not wake up as a first lieutenant. Maybe a second lieutenant; or the unrecognized errand boy who gets coffee for everyone. Hell, there was a greater chance of you surviving out in space buck-naked than earning a rank of first lieutenant for sleeping for six months.

I looked down at him with new eyes.

...just how long have you..

On the back of the card was the number '13'. Raising an eyebrow at the '30' above the door in front of me, I followed the hallway. The weight in my grasp flinched with each step.

Sure enough, passing the swipe card through the lock of room thirteen made it open.

That sinking feeling dropped into an abyss.

Truth be told, I wasn't sure what to think - about any of this. No grand epiphanies were forming as I lowered him onto the bed, prying the offending metal stick from his grip and tossing it away. He settled some, eyebrows growing less pinched and lips relaxing softly. I pressed one knee on the mattress, sitting on my leg.

"..When did you wake up?"

His features morphed into a dull anger; "Like you give a damn," he forced, voice strained.

The accusation made my temper flare. "I wouldn't fucking ask if I didn't want to know, moron."

"Get out."

"Tell me when you woke up, asshole."

I actually regretted saying that, when his eyes snapped open to bore into me. There was a deadly mix of emotion in them - betrayal, sorrow, murderous intent, and a touch of passion. They blazed. He began yelling in my face.

"You'd fucking know when I 'woke up' if you'd fucking been there! I meant nothing to you! If I'd died or if I lived, it was all the same to your fucked-up little game! A bitch you could trash whenever you felt like it! Get the fuck out, you bastard!"

"Shut--"

"I hate you!"

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T08:07:31Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 3 "Silence"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 1,262
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

Light burned its way into my eyes as they opened.

Sore and abused, every part of me ached. There was a soft voice calling out to me. I tried to squint, my heart fluttering.

Is that...

Fatigued confusion snapped taught with adrenaline as a long tube was slid out of the depths of my throat. I coughed, then groaned, muscles jostling painfully. A warm, firm hand rested along my shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

The murmur first echoed meaningless in my ringing ears; it didn't belong to whom I'd thought. And I felt like shit, thank you very much. When I could finally manage to focus my vision, a foreign face and a white lab coat greeted me.

Justin was his name - he introduced himself as one of the starbase's medical assistants. For a few clinical minutes, he asked me to try moving various parts of my anatomy, tapping here and there, checking over my vitals with thorough precision. I was in a daze through most of it.

He excused himself a moment, saying something that I didn't quite catch, but didn't care to have him repeat. Right now, I just wanted to think. I wanted to know how I'd gone from...

Sour threads of anxiety twisted up inside my core.

That's right. I'd gotten hurt; the last thing I could recall was being lifted into strong arms, my nerves awash with hot needles. I shivered thinly.

Then, suddenly, only one thought occupied my mind:

Where is he?

Justin had returned; relief encased me in the form of morphine. But that one steady question was not erased. Nor did I want it to be.

Why isn't he here?

Over the next half-hour, Justin filled in the white static clouding my memory. The war was now in our favor - "Much of it due to your research," he commented - and reaching its end. I had been moved back to starbase only a few days prior.

Shocked nervousness prodded me to hear that I'd been asleep for nearly three months straight. He assured me that it was alright; my extended rest had given my flesh wounds plenty of time to heal, at least to a point where they wouldn't re-open themselves, and I showed no signs of there having been any lack of oxygen to my brain.

Gently, though, Justin concluded; "You have suffered some permanent damage to your spinal cord. With therapy, the effects can be lessened, but your legs will never be what they used to be."

I was fairly rendered speechless.

Millions of new, sharp concerns sprung up from the shadows. What exactly would they be then? Would I need crutches? A brace? God forbid a wheelchair? What doom did that spell for my life as a navigator? Was I ever going to go back?

Justin was looking at me somewhat expectantly; I belatedly realized that he'd asked if I needed anything.

My lips pressed closed then parted, mouthing the first word as the second halted behind my teeth. I couldn't blink. I had almost said 'my partner'.

I need my...

"...Have you seen Cain?"

There was something in Justin's resulting expression that I didn't like. I didn't like it at all. A trembling in my breath made my heartstrings creak--

"No, not for a while now."

--and then snap.

"Don't think I won't leave you behind."

"..Oh."

Silence.

Physical therapy slowly saw me back on my feet. The pain I endured to regain my strength was a fitting price. Every step I had to force; every stair I had to conquer; every hall that I tread - piece by piece, I rebuilt my fallen determination.

However...

An angry lust began to overpower my judgment. During my resting periods, it took only the barest of touches to ignite the restless incubus skilled hands had once before drawn out. Tears of unsatisfied fulfillment coursed rivers down my cheeks after each time I finished, and my shame forever threatened to drown me.

I wanted him.

I wanted him so bad.

So bad to a point where I knew it was wrong - I knew he was never coming back - he hadn't meant it - any of it - I was just a thing to him - a weak and stupid thing - broken I was worth nothing to him - yet I wanted his hands - his tongue - his pulsing desire buried fast within me - even if I was just a toy - even if he didn't care - even if he hurt me - please - oh god please - I can't live like this...

"I can't..."

Two months later, I was deemed suitable for discharge from the medical ward. Justin placed a thin metal cane in my hands. He instructed me to use it during the morning hours, for extra support as my body sorted itself out. Don't push yourself, he told me. Take it slow.

"And you've been given your own quarters."

A flat plastic square was passed to me. It was a door key.

I stared down as he presented me with an official report, addressed to my name. 'Honored' and 'reward' and 'deserving' jumped off the page. I was praised as a top-class navigator - a war hero - and central command was going to treat me as such.

Blank.

I made the trek to my new home.

People nodded their heads to me as they passed.

The cane beat light against my thigh.

It wasn't until I stepped into the room, lush with the comforts that a high-level officer would normally demand, did it register.

Something burned. My mouth; I glanced at a mirror adorning one wall. Blood spilled against my chin.

I'd torn open the scar.

Quivering eyebrows turned to heavy breathing. A lump in my throat grew larger and larger until it cracked, and poured out a storm of uncontrollable sobbing. All of it left me; the grief I'd held back for so long finally burst free. Lying limp along the lavish expanse of the bed, exhaustion drugged me into the warmth of a dreamless slumber.

Another month trickled away. Most of it I spent simply walking the starbase's long corridors. I was called upon, now and again, but it was always something trite. They were trying to let me be; I knew.

But one evening, I slipped up.

Just a look...

The button gave way under my finger and the door rolled open.

He stared at me.

I froze.

Someone I didn't recognize peered owlishly at me by his feet.

There was red on the boy's face and it stole my attention.

Part of me shriveled--

"Everyone will know you belong to me now."

--and died.

But another part, worn solid and unaffected, took in the gaze that was riveted upon me.

It wasn't disgust. It wasn't repulsion. It wasn't the cool, frosted steel I expected. Far, far from it - he looked like he'd been pole axed, eyes fixed to my own, wide and stunned and disbelieving.

His back straightened very carefully, and he turned towards me. Then he began to advance. I swore that my heart stopped.

A startled cry of alarm brought me out of my shock. The boy was fussing around the figure on the floor that was struggling to sit up. My palms throbbed.

Wait.

Now I was the one staring.

I'd clocked him across the jaw with my cane. His lip was split wide open; a bruise already formed on his cheek, darker than his hair. He wore the same expression as before, only he didn't meet my own this time.

Pain sliced up my legs and I found myself sprinting.

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T07:59:54Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 2 "Honest"
Rating: R
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 797
Warnings: Violence, adult themes, and strong language.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

I didn't stay by his side the whole time. I wasn't some love-sick little puppy; there was no way in hell I'd hover around his bed for days on end. There was a battle to be fought, with or without his help.

But... I guess, if I'm going to be honest here...

I was worried.

While he was naturally as pale as a baby's ass, this was different. His skin was translucent; it enhanced the welt on his face, making it look infected - red and yellow and purple mashed together in an obscene display. The gauze on his body stained faster than I liked it to.

And he wouldn't wake up.

It'd been three weeks, and he wouldn't wake up.

Again, if I'm going to be honest, I was more content to be pissed than ask why. Obviously, there was a reason for it. Yet... a part of me was... anxious. Because I knew, that if they told me he wasn't fighting against his pain, and that he was in a coma, and that it'd be years before he actually came back...

I'd walk away.

They tried to assign me another navigator after the fifth week. I told them to screw off. When one of the old bastards gave me a sappy, 'you care about him' look, I set the record straight.

"I only work with the best. He is the best. Don't try to pass off these idiots as being on the same level."

Which in itself was true. His talent as a navigator was plain as day, and his sharp reflexes - they rivaled my own - had gotten us out of a shit-load of trouble plenty of times. I'd seen these other morons in action; they didn't even remotely compare.

When I reached his door, though, I was plagued with unexpected guilt.

Grasping at me frantically, eyes wide, frightened, body bloodied and broken -"I can't..." - Fuck that; yes you can, you can make it, don't you dare tell me that you can't - "Stay with me." - eyes drifting closed, grip slacking, heart fading - run, faster, come on...

My hand fell away from the door panel, and I kept walking.

Two months went by.

Nothing changed.

The war was coming to an end. Threatened with expulsion, I irritatedly gave into being fleeced some greenhorn navigator; I was told to call him 'Judas'. He was some scrawny kid with bright red hair and a mouth that wouldn't shut the hell up. Whenever we were in the same room, he'd start squawking like a parrot - god it gave me a headache.

Half a year.

Judas was an ever-present pain in the ass, constantly clinging after me. Trying to get to the hospital ward was like trying to walk on water. I didn't want the brat to know what I was doing; my pride couldn't stand the idea of being labeled an emotional pansy.

So I told myself that I didn't need to visit. Being there wasn't going to make him open his eyes any faster. His life was in his own hands this time.

I felt so helpless it made me sick.

We finally moved back to the space station.

Fighter missions happened like clockwork - many teams went down, out of practice from our long stay on terra firma. At least Judas was silent when we took to the stars. Yet, while his skills were acceptable, he was a wet match next to the fire I'd grown used to.

It didn't leave me with much space to think, but that was fine.

Because I remembered him the most when I slept.

Smooth, supple skin burning hot against my palms. Fingernails dug into my shoulder, and he threw back his head on a breathless gasp. My pulse throbbed deep inside of his; my hips slammed into the firm flesh of his thighs; my tongue slid slow against the long expanse of his neck. It was me he screamed for - when we shattered the limits of passion and lust and pleasure all in a violent moment of ecstasy.

"Ow--!"

I glanced towards the bathroom, mildly curious. Judas came scurrying out, one hand pressed to his mouth, the other flailing around as he fumbled for something under his bed. My eyebrow rose as he popped open a first-aid kit.

"The hell you do to yourself now," I drawled.

"Nnhh, I cut myself..." he whined. "I hate shaving."

"...You don't have anything to shave, brat."

"Uweh, I'm dripping on the carpet.."

Standing, I strode over lazily to grasp at his chin. His fingers dropped down from his face; damn, he'd got himself good. Deep over both lips.

"You--"

The hallway door hissed open.

My head snapped around.

And I stared.

~LJW

Starfighter Fanfic

2009-03-19T07:51:10Z

Title: Tell You - Chapter 1 "Tell You"
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter. R overall.
Fandom: Starfighter Comic
Pairing: Cain/Abel
Word Count: 661
Warnings: Violence and minor adult themes for this chapter. Violence, adult themes, and strong language overall.
A/N: Because HamletMachine is AMAZING <3.
Disclaimer: Starfighter/Cain/Abel (c) M. Palumbo -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

( CH 1 ) ( CH 2 ) ( CH 3 ) ( CH 4 ) ( CH 5 ) ( CH 6 ) ( CH 7 ) ( CH 8 ) ( CH 9 ) ( CH 10 ) ( CH 11 ) ( CH 12 )

As my eyes staggered open, my memory was a blur. What'd just happened? Why did my heart feel heavy?

Sounds came through as if wads of cotton were stuffed in my ears. I squinted; everything was lit up with a harsh, yellow glow, hot like fire. From what I could see - which wasn't much, lying on my back - the tattered tops of tall buildings shuddered as a rumble broke the air.

That's right, the war... I was in a war. It was important that I was here. For some reason, my navigational skills were required, even out of the spacecraft.

I just couldn't remember.

Slowly, I realized that I was in pain. A lot of pain. Pain I never new existed and that choked my breath away. My lungs seized up as my chest heaved against a sob; an unimaginable torture.

Oh god...

Fingers gripped my own. An arm brought me upright; agony shot down my spine at a gentle touch to my head. The cry in my throat cracked and died while my vision swam black, and then I could see.

Then I could see him.

He was a sweaty, scuffed image of relentless will, bruise-tinted hair slicked in more directions than usual. On his face, was my favorite expression. Floating on the surface was a mask of intense anger - as solid as ice, yet as transparent as air. While it'd taken a long time to see it for what it really was, I could now clearly witness a relieved, horrified concern, shaking just within his gaze.

Today, it brought me to tears.

With great effort, I lifted my free hand and, quivering, pressed it to his cheek. I felt his jaw tighten; he squeezed my other wrist, subtly caressing the back of it with his thumb. He wanted to move - I could feel the anxious beat of his heart against my shoulder, and the twitch of his legs under mine.

But he didn't, at first. Perhaps he could see why my gut was screaming with an empty sting. Or knew why I couldn't curl my toes. Maybe he'd found where my skull was split.

Adrenaline abruptly spiked my veins. I began to gasp for air. Tangling my hand against his scalp, I clung to him in reckless desperation.

I can't die, I remember stating clear in my mind. I can't die, I don't want to die, please, please don't - don't let me go...

I croaked out; "I can't..."

His teeth flashed white in a silent snarl. I was drawn in closer; he barked at me to shut the hell up - but it wavered at the end. By the time I finally stilled, and found my face flush to his, the panic in my heart faded away.

There was a new look in his stare, and arm holding me trembled just the faintest.

...Don't..

A wetness glistened against his temple, near the short lashes of his eyes.

Please--

"Stay with me."

There are no words for what his voice was right then. If it'd been a different person, there were so many possibilities: sadness, rage, grief, irritation, devastation, indifference, maybe even a hopeful resignation. Not from him, though. Spoken from his lips, it became something completely new.

Somehow it gave me hope.

Consciousness drained out my body as he stood. The world swayed in dizzying arcs around us. My eyes slipped shut.

And it struck me then - in the blissful numb of unnatural sleep - of how safe he made me feel. Even if he acted a brutish fiend on the outside, he always treated me with care. He could be selfishly possessive, and a right-damn-bastard at times, but never cruel; despite any of my accusations to the contrary.

No... while calloused, this man had a truly, deeply, passionate heart.

All I could do then was trust him. Trust him to save me. Trust him to never stop going.

Because I have to tell you how much I...

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2008-03-15T23:15:51Z

Title: Vienna
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kurogane/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 1053
Warnings: Violence and angst
A/N: I have a habit of ending my fics with Tomoyo. Huh. For geblitzt and jasetsi(slackwater).
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work. Song "Vienna" belongs to The Fray.

There's really no way to reach me
There's really no way to reach me
Is there really no way to reach me?
Am I already . . .
So this is your maverick?
This is
~ { [ | . v . i . e . n . n . a . | ] } ~

[[ KuroxFai ]]
[ for jackpirate13 and jasetsi(ciniscineris) ]

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Their old war was over.

A new one had begun.

Nihon was under siege by a force they could not explain.

It came with the rain – a white mist drew up from the earth, and the retreated, leaving thousands of warriors in its wake. These men would throw themselves upon the people, stealing and beating and killing all in their path. And when the rain ceased, they would vanish.

Today, the clouds brewed black against the sun.

Kurogane sat polishing his father's sword.

Fai stepped quietly into the room, skin pale and hands quaking.

After a pause, the two glanced at one another.

“So.”

Such a soft sound; feathers in the wind.

“You'll finally fight them.”

The red-eyed man gave a solemn nod. “Yeah.”

Two-toned eyes studied the floor.

“This isn't your battle, idiot,” Kurogane growled. “You're staying here.'

He smiled broken glass. “Yes, Kuro-sama. I know.”

Shards glistened and trembled.

“I wish you well.”

None who battled against the mysterious army had ever lived.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Water drenched him to the bone. The mist was curling about his feet, slowly rising through the air. With a grim smirk, Kurogane readied himself for the onslaught.

As the first of the warriors began to emerge – translucent; untouchable – gray with piercing yellow stares – lightning suddenly cracked the sky.

Ghostly screams rang out, the army doubling over as if in pain. Bewildered, the red-eyed man watched in mute amazement as the warriors became solid. His adrenaline raced as one of them lunged, and he struck out with his sword.

It cried out as the weapon found purchase in its chest, and fell to the ground, where the earth dissolved it into dust.

Kurogane and the others for Nihon leveled them all with quick succession.

But as the last of the army shriveled away, there was something wrong.

The rain did not stop.

“Kurogane-san!”

He looked in the direction of the voice.

Off in the field, crowded by many of Kurogane's comrades, lay a body clothed in a familiar white.

“..shit—”

There wasn't a time in his life where the red-eyed man had run any faster. A thick hush fell upon the small gathering. Shoving the others out of the way, he dropped to his knees and gripped Fai's unmoving shoulders.

His amber eye was glazed and dull – his blue one so faded it seemed black. A pin-point wound gaped where the mage's heart had once been. Fai's handcrafted staff was sunk in the mud not far away, the tip crackling in the last vestiges of electricity.

The mage was long gone.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Over time, the Army of Rain grew stronger.

No longer able to evade physical harm, their tactics evolved. Group strategy was utilized instead of one-on-one combat. Reflexes quickened, techniques altered – it was like fighting entirely different beings.

Kurogane enjoyed tearing them apart the harder they became.

Bones snapped and a warrior went down.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Kyaa, Kuro-sama~!”

“Hey! Put the damn sword down!”

“Hyuu, it's so heavy ~ Kuro-sama must be so manly and strong to use it!”

“Damn it, mage! Give it back!”

Legs were cut and another screamed.

“...what's wrong with you?”

“O—Oh, Kurogane, you startled me.”

“...”

“..a—ah, K—Kuro-sama, wha—... mmhh..”

“Get over it, idiot.”

“Bu— ...nhhmm.. Kuro...”

“You're worrying over nothing.”

Blood not his own stained the red-eyed man's hands and face.

“Thank you, Kuro-sama.”

“..?”

“I don't know where I would have gone.”

“...you're welcome.”

Hot and angry tears were lost in the storm.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

'Kurogane.'

He blinked through the haze of pain and exhaustion. There was something familiar about the white form drifting towards him, flowing across his cheek, staring down at him with brilliant blue eyes...

...huh?

'Kurogane,' it called again.

The red-eyed man reached out and ran his fingers over milky skin as Fai's image solidified. Tenderness rolled over the mage's face, and he leaned into the touch.

“You...”

Fai touched their foreheads together.

'You have to get up, Kurogane,' he cooed. 'The fighting is almost over.'

“Almost...” The red-eyed man tangled tired fingers in blond hair. “But you..”

'I'm watching over you. I always have been.' The mage smiled. 'You know that.'

“Why.. why did you sacrifice yourself...” Kurogane's voice broke in grief. “You stupid mage, why..”

Pressing himself against the red-eyed man's chest, Fai murmured;

'I fought them. I lost. It was all I could do.'

In the stillness, they shared a kiss – demanding and passionate and sorrowful.

As the mage drifted away, Kurogane forced himself to his feet, and staggered back into the fray.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Tomoyo regarded their graves with a smiling face.

“Take care of him, Fai-san. Be nice, Kurogane.”

She placed a branch of cherry blossoms atop both.

“We will miss you.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

[ We'll miss you ]

[[ end ]]

~LJW

Undefined Fic

2007-12-15T00:38:17Z

Title: Someone's Always Watching
Fandom: N/A; semi-Tsubasa
Prompt: "small gestures" from geblitzt
Characters: none; semi-KuroFai
Rating: G
Word Count: 195
Warnings: None
Summary: It's a matter of fact, should you believe it or not.
Author's Notes: "Undefined" fics have no context, and are mostly for venting. Most will not make sense. Done in poetry-format. I wrote it with Kurogane and Fai in mind, but it's not very specific.

A fleeting glance.

A stolen look.

A quiet gaze.

A silent nod.

A murmured greeting.

A fleeting brush.

A stolen touch.

A quiet caress.

A silent grasp.

A murmured thanks.

A fleeting notion.

A stolen desire.

A quiet burning.

A silent passion.

A murmured confession.

A fleeting pang.

A stolen pain.

A quiet undoing.

A silent tear.

A murmured refusal.

A fleeting shock.

A stolen frown.

A quiet anger.

A silent rage.

A murmured disbelief.

A fleeting guilt.

A stolen wish.

A quiet regret.

A silent breaking.

A murmured apology.

Not all things come as hurricanes and lightning.

Not all things are thunder and rain.

For it is the small gestures that matter the most in the eye of the storm.

Be they negative or positive or neutral.

Every action, every word, and even every thought.

They are magnified tenfold when all else is calm.

A single whisper can shatter a soul.

A single shift can warm a heart.

A single breath can set things right.

So the next time you believe what you do does not matter.

Remember that there is always someone watching you.

And it is the small gestures that matter the most.

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-11-24T10:08:42Z

Title: Our Passage In Time
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kurogane/Fai(Yuui); SEE NOTES AND WARNINGS
Word Count: 5,146
Warnings: AU; Spoilers concerning Fai's past; Kuro-wan's potty mouth, some violence, and adult themes.
Summary: When ordinary situations form extraordinary crystals of Time.
Author's Notes: Well! This bugger was unexpected. It plays on one of my greatest weaknesses when I read fanfiction, which I can't give away or I'll spoil the story. Maybe someone can make a guess. (( not you, tsuki-da. XD )) This is for the Autumn Challenge on the KF Comm. Many thanks to tsukiyo_tea for beta-ing~~
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

I know there's something
In the wake of your smile
I get emotion from the
Look in your eyes

You're built to love
But that love falls apart
Your little piece of heaven
Turns to dust...

Listen To Your Heart – Roxette

--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--

Our Passage In Time
[ Kurogane-x-Yuui-+-Fai ]

--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--

[ 7 years ]

“Hi!” chirped the little blond boy, peering at him through the vines of the willow tree.

Red eyes glared as best as a child's could. “Who are you?”

The blond boy's smile doubled in size. “My name's Yuui.” – Another yellow head poked through the leaves – “This is my brother, Fai. What's your name?”

“...Kurogane,” he grumbled, blushing angrily as the other two giggled in unison. “What's so funny?!”

“You have such a grown-up name, Kuro-puu!” cooed the first.

“It's so very strong, Kuro-chi!” exclaimed the second.

His blush darkened in embarrassment. “Well stop laughing! And don't call me sissy names like that!”

Yuui's face fell into a pout. “Aww, Kuro-wan is so mean.”

Fai stuck his tongue out at the red-eyed boy. “All we wanted to do was have some fun.”

Growling, Kurogane snapped off a twig from the base of the tree and sprung to his feet. “I'll show you fun!”

Squealing, the two brothers took off through the forest, the other boy hot on their heels. The three of them ran and played and wasted away the day until the sun was low in the sky. Kurogane's boyish pride wouldn't let him say it, but he found the brothers to actually be quite tolerable.

“Oof!” went Yuui as he was pinned.

Fai whistled and clapped. “Kuro-puu wins again!”

Kurogane barked, “I said stop with the names!”

“Maa, Kuro-sama, let me up please,” Yuui whined. “We need to get home.”

“It is getting late,” Fai agreed with a nod.

Rolling off the blond boy, Kurogane gave an annoyed snort. “Good, I don't have to bother with you anymore.”

“Don't worry, Kuro-pipi,” Yuui giggled. “We'll be back tomorrow!”

“Eh?!”

“Take care, Kuro-chu!” Fai called, and the brothers skipped off into the woods.

“Feh,” the red-eyed boy grumbled, but deep down, he was happy.

[ 8 years ]

“We wanna do something else, Kuro-wan,” Yuui complained, tracing patterns in the dirt.

Fai was doing the same. “Yeah, all you do is chase us around!”

“Because you're bugging me,” Kurogane groused; he couldn't tell one blond head from the other.

“I know!” Yuui said suddenly, picking himself off the ground. “Let's climb the tree!”

Fai's face lit up with a huge grin. “Yes, yes! Come on Kuro-chu!”

As the two brothers took to swinging from one low branch to the next, Kurogane eyed them in irritation. “What a stupid idea— Hey!”

Yuui messed up the black hair beneath his bare feet. “Don't be such a party-pooper Kuro-puu!”

Swatting away the blond boy's legs, Kurogane snarled and leaped into the tree, earning a unanimous, girlish cheer. He pursued the two brothers this way and that, always a step behind. They were like snakes, twisting and slipping their way around the dense foliage.

Finally out of breath after quite some time, Yuui and Fai hopped out of the tree and flopped in the grass. The red-eyed boy followed suit, never minding how close it put him to the blond boys. One of them finally broke the cheerful silence.

“Aww, Fai-chan, look how late it is...”

“It's so sad,” agreed the other in somber tones.

Kurogane closed his eyes with an uncaring huff. They promptly reopened when two sets of arms latched onto him. “H—Hey! Let go!”

Yuui smiled up at him. “We'll see you tomorrow, Kuro-wan!”

“It was fun being with you today, Kuro-sama!” Fai added.

As they left, Kurogane watched them, perplexed and content at the same time.

[ 9 years ]

“Ready or not, here I come!”

Peering into a small cave, Yuui laughed and shouted, “I see you, Kuro-muu!”

“Stop calling me that!” came the frustrated reply.

“You can come out now, Fai-chan! I found him!”

Scurrying out of a maple tree, the blond boy snickered. “Kuro-puu, you're so bad at this game!”

Scowling as he emerged from the cave, the red-eyed boy barked, “Oh shut up!”

Yuui swooned dramatically. “Hyuu, such language for such a small little boy!”

“Such a shame!” chimed in Fai.

Kurogane rolled his eyes.

“You're 'it' now, Kuro-wan!” one cried.

“Close your eyes, count to fifty, then come after us!” the other finished.

They scampered away, giggling. Heaving a sigh, the red-eyed boy covered his face with his hands, and counted. Reaching fifty, Kurogane dropped his hands and slunk among the trees; it was so very quiet, he didn't want to cause too much noise.

And he looked everywhere. Which angered him to no end; he just couldn't find those two blabbering brothers. When they wanted to hide, they were dang good at it.

“Kuro-puu watch out!”

Lost in his internal fuming, Kurogane hadn't realized he'd walked right off the edge of a small cliff. Hands clamped around his ankles; blinking down, a blond head greeted him. One of them had been hiding here..?

They overbalanced, Kurogane going forward and the other boy going backwards into the mud. Sputtering, the red-eyed boy scrambled to right himself. Hysterical laughter rang out from the other boy, who was making mud angels.

“You're so clumsy, Kuro-wan!” Yuui trilled, squeaking when Kurogane caught him in the face with a blob of mud.

[ 10 years ]

Another wave splashed over Kurogane's head. “Would you cut it out?!”

The brothers cackled when they surfaced. “It's just water, Kuro-chi,” one of them teased.

“You're already in to your tummy!” the other admonished.

“I didn't want to go swimming, you morons! You dragged me in with all my clothes on!” Which was, indeed, very true. Kurogane's black shirt clung to him wetly, his water-logged jeans hanging perilously off his hips.

Gliding through the rather clear pond water, Yuui tugged on Kurogane's arm with a grin. “Come on, Kuro-puu, you might as well swim!”

“Let go,” he grumbled, shaking the blond off of him. Seeing Fai ready to join in the persuasion, the red-eyed boy made an irritated noise and stripped to his boxers.

“Yay!” the brothers cheered, then squealed when Kurogane charged after them with fire in his eyes.

“You're so annoying!” he roared.

Fai ducked under the water, propelled himself in a circle, and yanked the red-eyed boy's feet out from under him. Kurogane's yelp was garbled as he fell, flailing in surprise. He felt his knee connect with something solid before he was able to stand back up.

“Fai!” Yuui shoved past Kurogane in distress.

Wiping his eyes, Kurogane turned around, and was rather shocked to find Fai clutching at his face, crimson dripping from between his fingers, with Yuui hovering over him, murmuring in concern.

“I'm okay, Yuui-chan,” he reassured his brother after a while. Removing his hands, the red-eyed boy saw that Fai's lower lip was split and bleeding. Kurogane flushed anxiously when both blonds fixed their sights on him.

“Dog pile!” they shouted.

“Augh, no!”

Kurogane got another mouthful of pond water.

[ 11 years ]

They hadn't shown up yet.

Kurogane was burning a hole in the root of the willow tree with his glare. Sure, they were in middle school now, and sure the two babbling idiots probably had other things to do, but how dare they not tell him! He'd wasted all day moping around their spot, thinking they'd come, but apparently they weren't going to.

More time went by. The sun was flirting with the horizon. Finally fed up with waiting, Kurogane snarled and turned to storm off.

A slender figure with ruffled blond hair stood silently in his way.

Red eyes blinked, slightly startled. Under the willow's vines, the sunlight cast prison bars between them. Kurogane frowned and opened his mouth to yell, when the blond head was lifted.

The boy looked positively wretched. Purple circles were under darkened azure eyes, pale skin adding to the effect of him appearing down-right tortured. He was shaking softly, and tears were staining his cheeks.

Kurogane was dumb-struck.

“Hey...” he mumbled, trying to keep the worry from his voice. “What—”

He stumbled back half a step as the blond launched himself into Kurogane's chest and began sobbing. The red-eyed boy's arms were awkwardly at his sides, wondering if he should hug the other boy before remembering that he didn't hug people. But Kurogane didn't move to pry the blond off him; he stood there and let Yuui weep into his shirt.

“Fai... Fai is gone he... h—he's dead!” Yuui wailed, setting himself off into a fresh round of tears.

Darkness fell over them. Kurogane stared blankly at the ground, mind almost refusing to process the information. Fai died? He was gone, just like that?

Slowly sinking to the ground, Kurogane held Yuui to him tightly, his own sobs hidden by the blond's mournful cries.

[ 12 years ]

They didn't go to the forest anymore.

Dropping his backpack in the wood-chips, Kurogane raced Yuui to the park swings. The blond ran belly-first into one, swinging up like Superman before swinging back. Kurogane was hard-pressed to hide his smile while he sat down, kicking off with his feet.

“Hyuu, Kuro-muu,” the blond whined, righting himself in the swing. “It's so hot out.”

“Stop with those stupid nicknames,” Kurogane huffed automatically; like it made a difference.

“We should go find ice cream later!” Yuui chirped. He swung himself higher.

The red-eyed boy snorted. “You and sweets.”

Cracking a grin, the blond nodded enthusiastically. “It's so good! Kuro-wan is very strange to not like it.”

Kurogane rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

A warm wind filtered through the air, stirring blond hair in a flurry. They moved to and fro at the same rate, at the same time. Yuui went to brush his hair back and wobbled dangerously.

Tanned fingers snatched his milky wrist.

“Be careful, idiot,” the red-eyed boy murmured, cheeks tinting. He didn't let go.

Surprise dwindling into butterflies in his stomach, Yuui turned his blushing face. Twining their hands, the blond continued to swing, keeping in sync with Kurogane. They stayed that way for longer than either expected.

[ 13 years ]

Yuui fidgeted, watching Kurogane from a distance. The red-eyed teen had been approached by a man in a police uniform, who asked to speak to him alone. While they hadn't been away long, the blond still felt very uneasy.

The man seemed to ask the red-eyed teen something, who nodded very slowly in reply. They made their way towards the doors of the school; Yuui hesitated, then followed after them. He reached out to touch Kurogane's shoulder.

“Kuro—”

His hand was roughly pushed away.

Coming to a stop, the blond's azure eyes helplessly trailed after Kurogane as the teen clambered into a police car and was driven off. Yuui glanced over his shoulder at the group of kids staring at him, some in concern, others in confusion, and still others with distaste. Giving one last, long look outside, the blond retreated back into the school building.

Kurogane did not come to school the next day. Or the next. Near sick with worry, Yuui sought out the principal, who told him, very regrettably...

“Kurogane-kun's parents died in a car accident, Yuui-kun. I've been told that he's moving in with his aunt, and will need some time before returning to his classes.”

He was in a daze. Kurogane... strong, hearty Kuro-chi... was an orphan now? Yuui was downcast the rest of the day, silently grieving for his friend.

The Monday following, the red-eyed teen was back. The blond was uncertain about what to do. During lunch, when Kurogane went out into the school courtyard by himself, Yuui sought him out.

“...Kuro-sama,” he ventured, not getting a response. “Can I sit with you?”

Nothing. Taking advantage of the lacking answer, Yuui perched himself on the bench next to the red-eyed teen. They remained in silence until the bell rang, where they went their separate ways.

[ 14 years ]

Kurogane no longer rode the same bus as him. The red-eyed teen didn't know what to think about that. At least things were quieter now.

He did see Yuui in the halls, though. The blond would wave like an idiot and trill out his name, but Kurogane would keep walking. It was what others who knew him expected; ignore the babbling buffoon.

But one day, Kurogane glanced up, met eyes with Yuui, and the other teen didn't do a thing. The blond just looked away from him and went on his way. It literally stopped the red-eyed teen in his tracks.

That wasn't right.

So, after a long hiatus of any interaction, Kurogane went and found the blond after school.

“Hey,” he grumbled. Yuui's head snapped around to blink at him. “What's your problem?”

A smile lit up the blond's face. “Nothing, Kuro-sama. What makes you think there's something wrong with me?”

“Well you...” – yes? – “...you didn't... I mean you aren't...”

“Aww,” Yuui cooed, swaggering up closer to the red-eyed teen. “Kuro-muu is worried about me! How nice of him.”

“Wh—what?!” he barked. “I'm not worried about you! Don't go getting stupid ideas!”

The blond clapped his hands to his cheeks. “Such a nice friend! Let me give you a hug!”

“Don't touch me!”

“Nyah~!”

“Bastard! You'll pay for that!”

“Only if you can catch me, Kuro-puu!”

Their first year of high school, things finally went back to normal.

[ 15 years ]

“...Good heavens, Kurogane, what in the world happened to you?”

He and Yuui were standing in the living room of Tomoyo's house – Kurogane's aunt – covered top to bottom with soot. The dirty blond was staring numbly at the beige carpet, the only thing keeping him from shaking being Kurogane's grip on his wrist. At his aunt's question, the red-eyed teen tried to explain.

“Um...” – he tilted his head at Yuui – “His... apartment building burnt down. He, uh... ...he lost his parents.”

Tomoyo's heart melted, and she stepped to take the blond in her arms. “Oh you poor dear...”

Yuui clung to her blouse.

Kurogane rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “He said he doesn't have any relatives. Do you think... I mean he... could he—”

“Of course he can stay with us,” his aunt cooed, swaying the blond teen softly.

A weight left the red-eyed teens shoulders.

“Get him to wash up, and have him sleep in your room tonight, Kurogane,” Tomoyo continued, letting the blond go. “I'll get some extra blankets. In the morning, I'll go see about becoming his legal guardian.”

“Thanks, auntie,” Kurogane murmured gratefully, steering Yuui towards the stairs.

Once he got the blond properly motivated to take a shower without Kurogane's help, he went to the other bathroom and took one himself. By the time he was done, Yuui was already in his room, curled up in a mass of quilts on the floor. The red-eyed teen paused, considered, then climbed into his own bed without a word, turning off the light.

If he knew anything about losing parents, you didn't want to talk to anyone after it happened.

[ 16 years ]

Yuui was officially living with him and his aunt.

But the blond wasn't the same as before.

When he smiled, it didn't reach his eyes. It was sickly sweet and full of sugar, but it wasn't real. Almost like Yuui had forgotten how to really smile.

Kurogane didn't say anything at first. What did he care if the blond meant it or not? If he wasn't going to suck it up and get on with his life, then Yuui was a lost cause. What kind of coward was he?

After a few months, though, the red-eyed teen had had enough of it.

Grabbing the blond by the collar of his shirt, Kurogane forced him against the living room wall. Startled, Yuui's face went blank. Leaning in, the red-eyed teen growled.

“Don't smile when you don't want to. It pisses me off.”

School the next day kept him after to retake a test; Yuui was at home when he finally came through the door. Kurogane fully expected to be bombarded by a bubbly reception, but none took place. No, when he looked at the blond doing homework at the kitchen table, all the red-eyed teen got was a smile.

A real smile.

“Welcome home, Kuro-sama.”

[ 17 years ]

It was late. It was hot. It was quiet.

They were out of school for the summer. They were alone. They were bored.

Kurogane was sprawled out on his back over his bed, clad in only a pair of black boxers and a black tank top. Yuui, from pretty much out of nowhere, popped up and sat next to him in nearly the same attire; his was in white. Glancing lazily at the blond, Kurogane noted a deck of playing cards in his hand.

“Wanna play, Kuro-muu?” Yuui chirped, far too energetic for this languid heat; didn't he usually whine when it was hot?

“Hell no,” he grumbled, knowing the blond wouldn't listen.

“Oh, come on, Kuro-chi,” Yuui pouted. “I thought you liked poker!”

Hm, that was true. The red-eyed teen raised a brow. “There's nothing to bet with.”

“Yeah there is,” the blond asserted. “We're wearing it.”

There was a long, weighty silence as Kurogane stared at Yuui like he was twice as insane than he usually was.

“...Strip poker?”

Yuui nodded with a grin.

“Hell no,” Kurogane repeated, turning over on his side.

“Aww, fine,” Yuui huffed. “If Kuro-puu is too much of a scaredy cat to play—”

“Give me the fucking cards.”

The blond handed them over triumphantly.

Kurogane shuffled, cut, and dealt them each five, setting the rest in the middle. They were seated on the floor of the red-eyed teens room, Yuui sitting on a folded blanket. There was a weird tension in the air as they played out their first hand.

“Hyuu, Kuro-sama's chest is all manly now!”

“Shut up and deal!”

Yuui complied with a smug smile on his lips. It quickly faded when his straight lost to Kurogane's royal flush. The blond stuck his tongue out at Kurogane's smirk and removed his top.

[ 18 years ]

“Do you have everything, Kuro-wan?”

“Quit calling me that!”

“Where are the keys, Kurogane?”

“In my pocket, auntie.”

“Kuro-muu! You forgot your shoes!”

“The hell are you— ...oh.”

“Kurogane, go get your shoes on!”

“I'm going, I'm going!”

“Neh, Kuro-puu...”

“What is it now?!”

“Are you sure you want me to come with you?” Yuui glanced up at him through his bangs.

Kurogane frowned and flicked him in the forehead. “Grab your damn coat and let's get out of here.”

“Hyuu, okay Kuro-chi!”

“Come on you two! We only have the moving van for so long!”

“We're coming, auntie! Hurry up, moron.”

“Aw, so mean, Kuro-wan.”

“Just move it!”

[ 19 years ]

“Kuro-sama, can you turn on the light for me?”

The red-eyed man gave a vexed glare and toggled the light switch. “Lazy bastard...”

“Thank you, Kuro-puu,” Yuui said distractedly, staring intently at the papers in front of him.

“Do you even remember my real name?!”

Giggling, the blond lifted his head and grinned. “Of course I do, Kuro-wan! But it doesn't suit your cute little self!”

Kurogane roared, “I'm not a damn kid anymore!”

Yuui placed a hand to his chest in mock affront. “Goodness, I did not say that you were, Kuro-daddy! But you are still cute.”

Growling, the red-eyed man stalked forward and grabbed the blond's wrist of his shirt, shaking it. “I am not cute. And don't ever call me that!”

A mischievous smile wandered onto Yuui's face. “Aw, Kuro-muu wants attention.”

“I want you to shut up!”

The blond leaned forward and nipped at the end of Kurogane's nose. His eyes widened and he quickly let Yuui go, taking a step back. The other man just grinned at him.

“If you let me get back to my schoolwork, then I will be quiet, Kuro-sama.”

Mumbling something incoherent, the red-eyed man shuffled back into the living room, rubbing his nose and wondering why his insides were doing flips.

[ 20 years ]

When Kurogane returned from work one day, there were candles set up everywhere.

He cautiously set his things down on the couch, peering through the gentle lighting. There were so damn many of them. What in the hell was the blond trying to do, set the house on fire?

“Oi, idiot,” the red-eyed man called, wondering why he thought he needed to be quiet. “I'm going to kill you if you lit all these then ran off.”

“I'm over here, Kuro-sama.”

His voice came from down the hall. Kurogane found Yuui sitting in his room, cross-legged on his bed. In the blond's hands was a small square of paper, and he was looking at it like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“...what's with all the damn candles?” the red-eyed man grumbled.

“I thought it would be nice,” the blond murmured, “to remember our families this year.”

Kurogane felt himself wilt slightly. Glancing at the paper again, he saw that it wasn't just paper, but a picture, probably the only one Yuui had. It was of him and his brother.

Slipping down next to the blond, Kurogane grasped his pale chin and turned his head. Azure eyes were dark and deep and staring at him not in confusion, but in a heady emotion that the red-eyed man wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. Taking a breath, Kurogane nodded.

“That's the first smart thing you've ever come up with, stupid.”

Yuui's mouth broke into a soft smile.

The rest of the night consisted of prayer and sharing memories. The red-eyed man helped Yuui blow out the candles once they were through. Their house smelled like smoky vanilla ice cream when they parted for bed.

[ 21 years ]

Yuui packed his things meticulously, calmly, slowly. He'd already moved his bed, his desk, and various kitchen items into his new apartment. Now all that was left were his dresser and clothes.

The red-eyed man watched him from the doorway.

“Yuui-san,” Rin, Kurogane's fiancée, beckoned from the living room. “Is this white jacket yours?”

“Yes, Rin-san,” the blond replied, zipping his suitcase closed. “The blue one with the design on the back is also mine.”

“Oh, okay!”

Setting the suitcase on its wheels, Yuui made to leave the room, but Kurogane stood in his way. The two locked gazes, both purposely keeping their expressions neutral. Finally, the red-eyed man moved to the side, letting the blond pass.

Rin smiled sweetly, her arms full of coats. “Leave that to me, Yuui-san.”

“Thank you, Rin-san,” he said, just as sweet. The blond set the suitcase by the couch, and returned to his room. Kurogane followed him in.

They removed the dresser drawers, took out a few screws, and disassembled it. The red-eyed man carried the drawers to his fiancée's car, while Yuui handled the pieces of the dresser. Rin was already there, shuffling the blond's clothing into the trunk.

She dusted off her hands and smiled once again. “So! I'll drive you, Yuui-san. Kurogane, dear, I need you to go shopping for dinner while we're gone.”

Kurogane simply nodded.

The blond closed the car door as he sat in the passenger's seat without a second glance back.

[ 22 years ]

“Hey.”

“Good morning, Kurogane.”

The red-eyed man would never admit it, but that hurt. He gestured the blond in, the shut the door behind him. Yuui stepped to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table.

“Where is Rin-san?”

“Her own house.”

There was a tense pause. The blond turned to look at him. Kurogane walked over and stood at Yuui's side.

“She and I didn't really... click,” the red-eyed man murmured.

Yuui just stared.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Kurogane glanced away. “I just thought... well since I know you get lonely so damn easy... and this is sort of our.. house...”

“Kuro-sama,” the blond whispered with a small, radiant smile. “Are you asking me to come back?”

He sputtered indignantly, but couldn't say anything to the contrary. Kurogane thought his face felt warm. Yuui grinned and giggled.

“Aww, Kuro-wan is blushing,” he cooed.

“So will you or not?” the red-eyed man demanded.

Leaning up, the blond pressed a chaste kiss to Kurogane's chin. “Only if Kuro-daddy helps me move again.”

“I told you not to call me that!”

“Nyah~!”

[ 23 years ]

“Kuro—”

Yuui gasped as he was roughly shoved against their bedroom wall. Lips and teeth and tongue attacked the pale expanse of the blond's neck, greedy tan hands sweeping over his chest. Kurogane reveled in Yuui's heavy whimpers, then grabbed him and tossed him on the bed.

The blond laughed breathily, turning into a moan when the red-eyed man brought their bodies flush together. Kurogane meshed their lips and plundered the blond's mouth while tugging them free of their clothing. He immediately stopped when Yuui pushed him away.

“W... What?”

“I—” Yuui swallowed and chuckled. “I think I'm lying on your cellphone.”

“Eh?!” Kurogane shoved the blond to the side and snatched up his phone. He glowered as Yuui burst into hysterics. “Oh shut up!”

“Nyah~! Kuro-wan's cellphone wanted to join in the fun!”

The red-eyed man flushed brightly and pinned the blond's hands over his head, growling. “I'll show you fun.”

Yuui mewed and writhed. “That's what I was hoping for Kuro-sam—Ah!”

[ 24 years ]

They lay in a heaving, sweaty heap. Kurogane idly rubbed at the blond's shoulders; Yuui was peppering his collarbone with sloppy, sated kisses.

As they caught their breath, the red-eyed man was overcome by a sudden wave of emotion. The blond rose up on his elbows and arched his back in a stretch, yawning ferociously. Unable to help himself, Kurogane tangled his fingers in Yuui's silky locks, tilting the man's head backwards as he combed it tenderly.

At the blond's euphoric smile, the red-eyed man couldn't keep his thoughts to himself.

“I love you.”

Yuui tensed and glanced down at Kurogane with a wide, almost frightened stare. Brow furrowing slightly – more in concern than anything else – the red-eyed man pressed his palms against the knots in the blond's neck. The tension finally dissipated, and Yuui's azure eyes sparkled.

“I love you, too, Kurogane.”

He made a face; the blond giggled.

“I mean, Kuro-sama,” Yuui purred, nuzzling Kurogane's cheek.

The red-eyed man smirked and stroked the blond's back. “Much better.”

[ 25 years ]

Kurogane stepped from the bus to the sidewalk. He shivered a little and shoved his hands into his pockets, hating how cold this winter was turning out to be. The red-eyed man was in view of his mailbox, when he came to a halt.

Rin's car pulled out from the driveway, and sped down the street with a screech.

There was no reason for the panic that flared in Kurogane's heart, but it was there all the same. The red-eyed man resumed walking, which escalated into an urgent run at the sight of the open front door. All of the lights were off, which normally meant the house was empty – and yet Kurogane had a sickening feeling that it wasn't.

Tearing down the hall, the red-eyed man barreled into the blond's room.

Blood was creating a dark pool on the carpet.

“Yuui!”

His hands shook, heart raced, stomach dropped out; Kurogane was horrified. Fumbling around for his cellphone, the red-eyed man almost couldn't manage to press the right buttons. He barked out information to the answering operator, who told him to breathe, slow down, and help would be there as soon as possible.

Looking for something – anything – to press against the gaping hole in Yuui's prone back, Kurogane snatched a shirt from the blond's clothes hamper. He held it to the wound, grimacing as the white material was stained through. Kurogane's fingers were also dipped in red.

The blond groaned weakly.

Hopes soared as azure eyes cracked open. Tears welled in those eyes, and Kurogane would have wiped them away had his hands not been dirty. The red-eyed man instead bent his head, and buried his face into Yuui's golden hair.

“Just stay with me, you idiot,” Kurogane croaked.

Sirens finally blared outside. The blond was quickly lifted from the floor and placed in a stretcher, then rushed to the awaiting ambulance. Kurogane was two steps behind.

A dozen or so people rushed out to meet them as they pulled up to the hospital. Kurogane put up a loud and forceful fight when they told him he couldn't follow Yuui into the emergency room, but in the end it was either sit and wait or deal with the police. So, the red-eyed man was stuck pacing in the lobby, until he got tired of pacing and collapsed into a chair, only to spring up pacing again.

It was three in the morning.

“Kurogane-san?” a man in a white coat said softly.

He sat bolt upright. “Yeah?”

“You are Yuui-san's friend?”

“Yeah.” Kurogane was near twitching.

The doctor – he assumed – gave a sympathetic nod. The red-eyed man didn't let himself think anything of it. No, the guy was just tired, it was late, long day at the office...

“I'm sorry, Kurogane-san,” the man said.

“...what?”

“Yuui-san did not survive his injuries.”

Kurogane... just stared. Part of him didn't understand; it wasn't possible. Yuui was the one who survived everything, gave everything, he was supposed to live until he was old and wrinkled and still drive Kurogane crazy.

Whatever the doctor said afterwards, fell on deaf ears. The red-eyed man sat, silent, waiting to wake up. He never did.

[ 26 years ]

Rin was caught, and convicted of first-degree murder a year later. Kurogane was a key witness in the court case. His ex-fiancée was condemned to live the rest of her life out in prison without parole.

It was a hollow victory for the red-eyed man.

And a lot of it felt like his fault.

Kurogane ducked through the vines of the willow, running his free hand along its trunk. He followed the forged path among the maple trees, down the cliff to the pond. The water was as clear as ever.

Here, the red-eyed man opened the top of the vase he held, and carefully poured out the ashes within. They drifted away in a gray cloud. It was a nice day; Kurogane watched until the ashes settled at the bottom among the rocks.

“...I'm no good with words,” he murmured. “I only ever said I... love you ... once. You were the idiot who came up with the romantic crap...”

Placing the palm of his hand on the surface of the water, Kurogane let himself cry;

“I'll miss you.”

--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--

- end -

--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--|--

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-10-20T03:57:45Z

Title: Barefoot
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 990
Warnings: Spoilers for the Celes arc; heavy violence and angst
Summary: Sometimes you're told how fate would be. Sometimes you're told how fate will be.
Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments! T-T I will reply to them all, but it may take me some time. This fic starts out a bit differently than usual, but hopefully it isn't something bad -- I wanted it to be frustrating to read. This was inspired by serenphoria's gorgeous fic: For He Comes, the Stolen Child. *wibbles* It was so amazing; it inspired me so.
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

B a r e f o o t

-//-

“He has to die.”

“...excuse me?”

“He has to die.”

“For what reason?”

“He has to.”

“That's... that doesn't make any sense.”

“It's of no concern to you.”

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

“That doesn't concern you either.”

“I believe it does. You just told me that he has to die.”

“I said he has to die.”

“What difference is there?”

“He has to die. It doesn't matter who he is to you.”

“Who said you had the right to decide that?”

“Right? It doesn't matter who has the right or not, he has to die.”

“...I believe you're going to have to come up with something else.”

“Why's that?”

“I won't let you kill him.”

“Who said anything about me killing him?”

“You just said that he has to die!”

“And?”

“And how is he going to die?”

“Simple. He's going to kill himself.”

“...do you even know who you're talking about? He'd never kill himself, he's disgusted by the idea.”

“That doesn't matter. He has to die.”

“I still won't let him die.”

“Then you're going to die, as well.”

“What makes you so sure about all this?”

“He has to—”

“No I've got that part. What makes you so sure?”

“Because he has to.”

“That isn't a reason.”

“Of course it is. He has to.”

“What is he dying for?”

“It doesn't matter—”

“What is he dying for?”

“It doesn't—”

“What is he dying for?!”

“It—”

“Tell me what he's dying for!”

“It doesn't matter.”

“So there's no reason for him to die.”

“He has to.”

“Why does he have to?”

“Because he has to.”

“Who does his death benefit?”

“It doesn't matter.”

“Why doesn't it matter?”

“Because he has to die.”

“He has no reason to die.”

“It doesn't matter. He still has to die.”

“...I'm not going to let him.”

“Then you'll die, too, like I said.”

“I'm not going to die.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he has to die, and if you try to stop him, you'll die, too.”

“Are you saying he'd kill me?”

“He has to die.”

“Are you saying he'd kill me?”

“No one can stop him from dying. If you try to stop him, you'll die, too.”

“He would never kill me.”

“But he has to di—”

“You're insane. He'd never kill me. I won't let him kill himself, which he'd never do, anyway.”

“It doesn't matter. He—”

“He does not have to die.”

“Yes, he does.”

“No, he doesn't!”

“You can't stop him.”

“That's what you think.”

“You don't understand.”

“You're right, I don't!”

“He has to die.”

“No he doesn't!”

“You don't understand.”

“And you certainly aren't explaining it to me!”

“It doesn't matter why he has to die, he just has to.”

“Says who?!”

“It doesn't matter.”

“It matters to me!”

“I told you, it doesn't matter what he is to you.”

“We'll see about that.”

“Yes. We will.”

-//-

Faintly he breathes, an empty doorway in his eyes. Half collapsed on the soiled floor, the room is shaking. He sees like a barefoot cameraman on glass; hold the damn thing still, you're all over the place.

There's a tunnel in his head. If he could hear beyond the echo, he wonders if there'd be anything but his pulse. The chalkboard screech of fingernails on tile vibrates through his bones, out his guts and to his skin. One nail breaks; more sin is pooled between the cracks.

Metal and smoke, so thick the smell, he's practically drowning in it. Even through his mouth, he can taste it – dripping from his tongue and down his throat the way rancid milk would. He will never be rid of this taste, this smell.

Something... no, not just something... but, no, it is just something – something very important he wasn't supposed to lose. Something he was supposed to say and do. But... wait, now... why... why is there a black hole where his heart once was? Didn't he...

A sick thud drops him back into reality.

It's suddenly absurd. Ha ha, very funny; so funny it's ridiculous. Did the rickety nightstand finally fall? Why did it sound so heavy and wet?

Sin crawls across the warped floorboards and nests under his already stained hands. Sin makes it's hot presence known through his clothing, ruining it beyond repair. Sin brings clarity to his glazed consciousness. Sin makes him blink down in childlike confusion.

Blood.

Fai doesn't believe it.

His head snaps up, choking on a horrified moan. Crumpled, prone, in a heap – Kurogane is staring at him, quiet resignation swimming in his dimming gaze. No... Fai's seen that look before; he'll never forget it on Ashura-ou; Kurogane's version is being branded into his very core; don't... don't...

Start talking.

“... I... He... He told me, he... but I thought... I didn't... I... K...”

He's covered with a sin he saw coming but had no power over.

This pain is earth-shattering, swarming and swelling from mortal wounds to immortal ones, his soul pouring out from him in one anguished cry. Fai is numb from the waist down, but he doesn't care. He sobs in great, quiet waves while dragging himself over to Kurogane's body, pleading and begging and praying to someone he doesn't know to spare him.

He weeps at Kurogane's side, feeling eyelashes flutter closed in a rush of wind. In his last moments, Kurogane rests his cheek against Fai's. Fai is abruptly silent – silent as the grave – without the strength to protest any longer.

And it's true; Kurogane, driven to protect, gives more than he could afford to lose but does not regret it; Fai, driven to sacrifice, tries to take the burden upon himself entirely.

Kurogane is slain with his own sword. Fai is injured by it as he tries to steal it back. The villain escapes. They both die.

Hitsuzen is so very, very cruel.

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-10-15T05:02:24Z

Title: Kaikishoku
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 2,307
Warnings: Spoilers for up to manga chapter 167; language, violence, Biblical reference
Summary: "The problem is Choice." -The Matrix Reloaded
Author's Notes: I... have no idea where this came from. Seriously. And I'm sure those of you waiting for Fool's Gold all hate me by now... This story was written to and meant to be read to Blue (Da Ba Dee) by Eiffel 65, which you can download from SS ( here ). ^^; It's from the 90's, which really wasn't that long ago, but I was still in elementary school... *feels old now* It has a really addicting beat, and somehow reminds me of Fai. Yeah. Anyway. LJ sucks with fonts, so the parts of the story that should be in Palatino Linotype are in italics now.
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

-//-

- Hypothesis -

-//-

I begin with an example.

A choice is to be made. This choice is difficult; this choice will end a life. In a perfect world, this choice would be given to the bitter, and the spiteful – in order to ensure that innocence is not lost because of it.

It is not the case here.

This choice – the choice that will end a life – has been given to a boy. He is a young, tortured soul, trapped within a tower of lies those around him build. This boy is also a twin, and these twin boys are the object of this choice.

Whatever decision our first twin makes will have its consequences. One will set him free, but doom his brother. The other will grant his brother said freedom, but in turn, he will forfeit his own. While there could be many shades of gray, it will not be so with this choice; either it will be yes, or it will be no – it will be one name, or the other.

And whatever decision our first twin makes is law. Indeed, our second twin will be shown the same choice, but it is merely a deception. His decision will be asked after our first twin has settled it.

So I ask unto you, what can be fathomed from this example? What are the factors? What will sway the first twin's heart either towards himself, or towards his kin? Will this boy of only five – six years understand what is being presented to him? What can we assume of the human condition by this choice's outcome? Who alone can rule a life but the holder of said life?

All we can apply to this eternal struggle is as follows:

“The problem is Choice.”

-//-

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

皆　既　食
Total Eclipse

[ A Tsubasa Fanfiction ]

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

-//-

Let us proceed.

-//-

- Deduction -

-//-

“Oi.”

A blue pool opens.

Kurogane towers over Fai beside the bed. Muscles in his tan neck twitch sporadically. Fai slowly levers himself to sitting.

“The witch wants to talk to you.”

“Yuuko-san?” A nod.

Fai gracefully stands and heads for the living room. Kurogane does not follow. Stepping towards the east wall, Fai smiles respectfully.

“Yes, Yuuko-chan?”

Her face is blank save a small from. “Fai-kun.

“You've seen the Gate.”

Fai's brow furrows. Reclining on the arm of the couch, he gently lifts a sleeping Mokona onto his lap; “The gate?”

“The Gate of Tears.”

A long pause permeates the room. Fai's skin is stark in contrast to Mokona's fur; “...yes, Yuuko-san.”

The witch considers him closely. “Were you there long in Tokyo?”

“No, Yuuko-san,” Fai says quickly.

“I see,” she murmurs; “Did you see the Garden?”

“No.”

“But you met the Gate Keepers.”

Blond hair falls across Fai's nose.

She smirks just a bit. “Do they frighten you?”

“...what can I help you with, Yuuko-chan?”

-//-

They all stare at him. Fai is watching Kurogane carefully. Syaoran is the only one to avert his gaze; Sakura's voice is small.

“What do you mean... we can't find my last feather?”

“Yuuko-san knows where it is, Sakura-chan.” Fai sounds calm; his hands fist and un-fist at his sides. “...But I am the only one who can go.”

“Bullshit,” Kurogane scoffs.

“Why is that, Fai-san?” Syaoran is studying the floor.

Fai sighs through his nose; an anxious sound. “It is not a place Mokona can take us. Traveling to and from there requires a specific spell and act, and it is not something we can all do.”

“What act?”

A blue pool closes.

“Death, Syaoran-kun.”

Chair legs scrape violently against the hardwood.

“Sit DOWN.”

Kurogane freezes in place. Fai has him fixed with a look of royal authority. Kurogane silently returns to his seat.

“...death?”

Fai's smile is slow to appear, sad along the edges; “Have you heard of the Garden of Eden, Sakura-chan?”

She tips her chin. “It is an old religious tale... The first people were said to have lived there.”

“Yes; Do you know what they say happened to the first people?”

“Mm,” Sakura hums thoughtfully. “They did something wrong and had to leave.”

“'So the Lord God banished him from the Garden of Eden to work the ground from which he had been taken.';” Syaoran raises his head.

The sad smile fades from Fai's mouth.

“Why the hell do you have to die to get there?” Kurogane glares fiercely at the side of Fai's head.

Turning to face him, Fai stands a little straighter; “Whenever a choice is made, time and space split, and create two distinct worlds. One world follows the decision that was chosen, the other world follows the decision that wasn't chosen. That is why we are able meet ourselves in the universes Mokona can reach – they are us, based upon many different choices piled atop one another.”

“And this Garden is different how?”

“The Garden of Eden was where the first human choice was ever made, be it made by 'God' or by some other form;” Fai pivots, straying to Kurogane's left. “From that choice, time and space spindled out into an infinity of worlds. We're apples on the giant, twisting tree, and the fastest way to its roots is to fall.”

“B... But Fai-san,” Sakura stutters. “People don't... People don't come back from the dead...”

His expression softens drastically. “That's correct, Sakura-chan. But people who simply pass away do not go to Eden. They must be performing a certain magic, or have a certain magic being performed on them, to get there. To return, the person only needs to be able to perform the spell again.

“Neither does a person physically end up in the Garden,” Fai continues. “It is only their soul that travels.” – his eye flickers away – “And the most efficient way to separate a soul and a body, is for that person to die.”

Cold air is wafting in through an open window. Sounds of the night can be heard. None move for the longest time, their clothes rusting with the soft draft.

Fai startles when Sakura whimpers.

“I... I don't... I don't want you to die, Fai-san...” She trails off on a sob.

Fai's shoulders sag, hurrying over to bury her in a hug. “Oh, Sakura-hime... Things.. Things will be alright, you'll see.”

The dinning table shudders as a door down the hall slams shut.

Fai gives Sakura a squeeze then pulls back, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I need to talk to Kuro-daddy. Can Syaoran-kun keep you company?”

“Of course, Fai-san,” Syaoran answers dutifully, replacing Fai for Sakura to hold.

One more smile, and Fai disappears around a corner, strides even and swift while walking back to his shared bedroom.

-//-

There is never gain without sacrifice.

For our twins, the gain will be insufficient to offset the sacrifice. Should our first twin live, he will gain his life. However, he will lose his sanity to guilt; nightmares of blood on his hands, of sending his brother to the slaughter. But should our second twin live, he will have his life, yet be forever parted from his beloved, and plagued with uncertainty of why – why was his choice ignored? He will run himself ragged searching for the answer.

For our nomads, the gain is undefined. Will our mage survive stripping the fabric of reality apart to reach the common goal? What will happen if he is unsuccessful? Even before that: will our ninja agree to his companion's death? Does the bond of his word truly extend into such situations? Can the princess bear another heavy price for the sake of her own well-being? What side of the boy will be shown during this hard time?

Let us proceed.

-//-

- Test -

-//-

“Syaoran-kun...”

Copper rings answer to the name.

Sakura is a statue on the end of her bed. Her hands are clasped on her lap, back curved into a slouch. She has been this way for too long, now.

Crouching, Syaoran tilts his head into Sakura's line of sight. “Yes, Sakura-hime?”

Two honeyed stars give no sign of acknowledgment.

“...Sakura-hime?” Syaoran touches the small of her wrist.

Sakura sucks in a breath, jumping slightly. As if to speak, her lips part ever so. They both remain in the relative quiet for a few more beats.

“What have I done?”

Syaoran's features cringe. “Oh, Sakura-hime...”

Tears trickle down Sakura's cheeks; “Fai-san has been through so much for me... it's only one feather... I... I don't really need it...”

He encircles her with his arms. “Sakura-hime...”

Sakura grips Syaoran's shirt, muffling her sobs. Syaoran rubs her back soothingly, copper rings focused near the door. “Just one more, Sakura-hime. Then everything will be fine, it'll all be over. Fai-san knows what he's doing...”

The honeyed stars only weep more.

-//-

“You're a complete idiot, you know that?! How are you supposed to skip off to this fairy-garden-thing without anyone going with you to make sure you don't totally screw up?! Do I also need to remind you that if you die, things ain't gonna be too pretty for me either?! You're only alive because I'm alive, and it's the same the other way around! You tell that time-space bi—”

“The price for your survival is that you must be the one to kill me, Kurogane.”

It's as final as a coffin.

Fai excuses himself to the closet. There's a whoosh of air, and Mokona jumps up on the dresser by Kurogane's elbow, a long, black item clutched in tiny paws. Mokona holds it out for Kurogane to take; which he does.

Kurogane catches his reflection in the blade of the sword. He watches his red eyes watch him, a never-ending cycle. Dropping to the floor, Mokona hides in a corner, clinging to the leftover sheath.

Fai is vibrating. The thick layer of towels he lays on the floor quiver as he sits stiffly. Kurogane stands before him, knuckles white around the hilt in his hand.

Extending trembling arms, Fai murmurs something under his breath. The sword shimmers faintly in a golden aura. His arms then drop down like weights.

Kurogane kneels reverently, tapping Fai's chin with his forefinger. The blue pool is flowing over, glistening on his eyelashes. Kurogane's lips tighten, adam's apple bobbing.

“You had better fucking come back.”

Fai breathes slowly – then nods.

Kurogane crushes their mouths together.

The sword slides slickly through Fai's chest and out his back.

Blood soaks them both; Fai exhales and falls limp into Kurogane's embrace.

-//-

This choice – the choice that will end a life, so close to one's own – is referred to as Kai – Ki – Shoku.

A total eclipse.

There is no correct decision; all look to be the wrong one. Peer pressure shadows your thoughts. Opinions cloud unbiased thinking. Self-preservation stains the issue. Emotions blacken your heart. It all amasses and rots and drips dark over whatever hope could have been had.

The resulting helplessness reduces you to a deer in headlights.

But, let us proceed.

-//-

- Findings -

-//-

Kurogane pleads silently with his eyes for Fai's unmoving body to wake up.

It has been four weeks now; Fai is tucked in and lying on their bed, like a corpse in a morgue. There's a gray tint to his skin, and he's cold to the touch. Somehow, though, Fai does not decompose – it's a small comfort.

Kurogane keeps the children out of the room, but they haven't attempted to enter, anyway.

Midnight; he sits vigilant at Fai's feet. The curtains ripple in a warm breeze from the open window. He dozes for just a moment or so.

There's a flash of light.

Snapping to attention, Kurogane leaps to his feet, Sakura's feather resting innocently by the door.

Nothing else happens.

“...Oi,” he murmurs nervously. “Mage...?”

The only sound is Kurogane's pounding heartbeat.

He shifts closer; “Oi, mage... the girl's feather is here... ...where are you?”

Moonlight bathes the floorboards.

“...Fai?”

“...”

-//-

Sakura gasps and jumps up as Kurogane presents her with the feather. Syaoran scurries over from washing the dishes. Mokona is right on his heels.

Taking the offered gift, Sakura smiles hopefully; “And Fai-san?”

-//-

The creatures of the Garden depart, the way closing behind them. An eternal echo announces the Gate as closed. Weapon in place, the perfect silver glints like fire in the rising sun.

“After he drove the man out, he placed on the east side of the Garden of Eden cherubim and a flaming sword flashing back and forth to guard the way to the tree of life.”

A golden apple lies at the base of the tree.

-//-

- Conclusion -

-//-

We are blinded when the choice is finally made. As such, we are quick to look away, and only seek out the aftermath. These choices – the choice that will end a life, and others – can never be fully comprehended, nor their consequences truly measured to the greatest extent. For what is the light of the sun compared to what made it stop shining?

Our first twin chooses his brother over himself.

Our ninja chooses duty over attachment.

Our princess chooses responsibility over emotion.

Our boy chooses friendship over isolation.

Our mage chooses sacrifice over selfishness; he is our second twin, alike to his slain kin in so many ways.

Consider what we would learn should we simply study the Kaikishoku, and not the why's, the what-if's, and the affects that come in its wake. Human morality stems from what actually eclipses the sky – not just the fact that the obstruction is gone. Here, we must find our way back to Eden – back to the very first “this or that” – and discover what it means to live, not just exist.

However, it may not matter what I say.

It's your choice.

-//-

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

[ end ]

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

-//-

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-10-10T01:47:24Z

Title: Pantheon
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 3,904
Warnings: Spoilers for manga chapter 167+; language
Summary: Chain down the sun - cement the stars; there is no time - they have no time.
Author's Notes: *stabs LJ and clings to tsukiyo_tea for helping* - YES I SUCK. Good, now that's out of the way. This is for the Autumn Challenge on the KF Comm. (finally). M'kay. I go die now.
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP -- I gain no profit from the posting of this work.

Sakura looks up from her food anxiously, voice timid. “Fai-san has been gone for a very long time...”

Kurogane glances towards the stairs. He hadn't wanted to think too much about it, but the princess is right. The mage had only gone to use the bathroom...

Syaoran shifts and stands from the table, heading into the kitchen with his empty plate in hand. “Perhaps Fai-san decided to take a bath?”

“I did not hear the water turn on,” Sakura protests in concern.

With a slight sigh, the ninja hoists himself out of his chair. “I'll go check on the idiot. Maybe he locked the door and now he can't get out.”

The bathroom is the last room on the second floor of the small apartment; who knows, maybe the mage would have been able to run a bath without them noticing. But as Kurogane gets closer, a rancid smell assaults his nose. Walking a little faster down the hall, the ninja grimaces at a series of harsh, wet coughs.

“Oi,” he calls through the closed door, receiving no answer. Frowning, Kurogane wrenches the handle around and steps in.

He's stunned by the sight that greets him.

Braced with shaking arms on either side of the toilet, Fai pants heavily into the bowl, sweat dampening the back of his shirt dramatically. His blindfolded eye is towards the doorway, the rest of his face hidden by his hair. Fai slowly turns his head, blond tresses obscuring his fevered blue stare, when suddenly his expression screws up in distress.

Kurogane quickly drops beside him and gets most of his hair out of the way before the mage retches into the toilet. His thin back bows painfully as the spasms jerk through him, upending his stomach against its will. Worry causes the ninja's chest to tighten;

Fai is throwing up blood, so dark it almost looks black.

One last heave, and the mage goes limp, breathing more ragged than before. Casting his eyes about, the ninja stretches to grab a towel, then wets it under the sink tap. Kurogane presses it to Fai's lips, coaxing the mage to suck the water out and rinse his mouth. Leaning him against his chest, the ninja shouts for the others.

“Fai... san?” Sakura murmurs quietly in shock.

“Call the witch,” Kurogane orders.

Mokona obeys at once, Yuuko's disturbingly surprised face flickering in the middle of the cramped room. She gives the mage a long look, then instructs that they move him to the bedroom. Syaoran runs to fetch a garbage can, in case Fai gets sick again; the princess hovers close with Mokona in her arms; Kurogane achieves carrying the mage with only one arm and lays him gently on the bed.

“Fai-kun,” the witch says sternly. “Release the spell.”

The ninja fixes her with a confused glare. “What spell?”

“Fai-kun.”

With much difficulty, the sapphire eye slips open.

Yuuko's voice is grim. “You are going to kill yourself. Mokona is prepared to take over.”

Only two words register with Kurogane. Gripping the mage's shoulder, he leans in close and orders; “Stop it.”

If Fai's gasp and the abrupt rise in temperature are any indication, he complies.

Not but a second later, the room cools and returns to normal, and Syaoran reenters just in time for the mage to make good use of the waste basket. The ninja again holds blond tresses back, still addressing the witch.

“What just happened?”

“The people here breathe carbon dioxide,” Mokona supplies in disbelief. “Fai was hiding it so well...”

“How did Fai-san know?” Sakura asks, bewildered. “We did not have any problems when we first came here...”

“He most likely sensed it before you even arrived,” Yuuko replies.

Said mage finally calms, rolling onto his back. A trail of inky red clings to his chin, glinting in the scarce light. Kurogane, enraged, goes to round on him, but stops short as Fai speaks first.

“Please,” he rasps, just above a whisper. “Don't yell at me... I just wanted to... to keep everyone safe... Please, Kuro... can't take it right now...”

“...Why didn't you say anything?” he asks, subdued. For some reason, the ninja can't stay mad when the mage talks like that. Like he's on his last leg, trying to redeem himself...

After taking a moment to just breathe, Fai responds; “I truly thought... I'd be alright...”

Their eyes meet, and for the first time... Kurogane believes him.

-//-

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

Pantheon
[ Kuro x Fai ]

-- dedicated to tsukiyo_tea --

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

-//-

“Syaoran-kun, Sakura-hime,” Yuuko interjects. “I request that take Mokona with you downstairs. I must speak with the two of you in private.”

The two exchange looks, before silently filing out. The ninja watches them leave, curiously suspicious. He comes half a second from demanding to know what the witch has up her sleeve—

Feeble fingers are urgently tugging on Kurogane's wrist. Blinking, he focuses his attention on Fai, whose skin is so white it's frightening. When the ninja doesn't move, the mage stares up at him rather desperately.

“I need... I'm sorry but I...”

It dawns on him. Careful not to crush his weak body, the ninja bares his neck before Fai's lips. Maybe his arm would have been more familiar, but it will be easier for the mage to find a good place to bite this way.

Not to mention that this is the only time Fai has ever wanted to drink without Kurogane forcing him to.

The mage tangles his hands in the ninja's hair as he slowly but greedily gulps down the offered meal. Kurogane simply holds still, leaning his weight on his forearm by Fai's head. After a while, he starts to feel slightly dizzy, and gives a grunt.

Fai immediately lets the wound go, catching a few stray drops on his tongue. The mage falls back against the sheets, cheeks flushed a healthy pink. His hands slip away from the ninja's scalp.

“...I think I'm going to sleep for a long time,” he murmurs tiredly.

Nodding, Kurogane adds, “As along as you wake up.”

And Fai smiles – a weak, honest smile.

-//-

They've left for the market. Kurogane wasn't happy about him staying behind, but they know it's for the best. Considering the day he had yesterday, Fai is surprised at how fast he seems to have recovered.

He's still a little wobbly as he wanders about the apartment. It was lent to them by a very generous landlord they happened to meet in town. No rent, no fixed lease; as long as no one else who is capable of paying comes looking for it, they're welcome to stay for free.

While Fai hasn't an appetite for normal food, he still enjoys preparing it. The group should be home by dinner, and there's just enough left in the ice box for a good stew. Seeing as it's already well into the afternoon, the mage starts to wash up so he can get working.

The feeling of being eaten from the inside out still haunts the back of his mind.

It was something he had felt back in Celes, but Fai had been rejecting the spell his body was being forced to act out, and it hadn't been as consuming. This time... he had been fervently trying to keep his magic going, reaching his lowest point but refusing to give up. Perhaps if the mage had known Mokona could preform the same technique, he wouldn't have been so stubborn.

But he really had thought he'd be okay. It was a rather tame spell – hence why he'd been able to keep it going for weeks. Sure, it could have been wise to ask for help, but he hadn't even the slightest idea how anyone could help.

Not like he couldn't have asked anyway...

Fai smiles wistfully to himself; that sounds an awful lot like Kurogane.

Chuckling, the mage pushes the rest of his thoughts away. It's something new to him, just stepping over a hurdle in his life without too many looks back. He's tried his best over the worlds to let things go, accept what happens and move on.

Again, it sounds an awful lot like Kurogane.

The next thing Fai knows, he's dazed on the kitchen tile, the ceiling fading in and out.

Smoke fills the apartment. His ears ring. Debris litters the floor, and the mage cuts his hand on a piece of glass as he goes to sit up. Thick liquid trickles down Fai's forehead; a corner of the counter is also stained with it. Rising unevenly, the mage squints to look out the broken window.

Surrounding houses are either on fire, in ruins, or both. A great crater is way down at the end of the street. The sun is red on the horizon.

There's something coming towards him.

Horrified, the mage already knows it's a second bomb.

No time to run. Just enough to understand he's dead once it hits – and gets to wait for it. In the midst of these precious seconds, Fai prays to no one in particular that the others are okay.

Tingles flash throughout his nerve endings, the air beginning to swirl. Heavy magic pulls at the mage to follow, even though it's already dragging him along. Fear of something else lodges in Fai's gut as the present doom is cast aside, and he's thrown to somewhere new.

It's raining here; he's falling alongside the downpour. Nothing but shiny black is below, and the mage hopes that it's anything but water. Landing with a loud 'fwump', Fai hisses softly in pain, however glad that he's on solid ground. Lifting his upper-body, he tries to peer into the darkness.

Empty on all sides.

Fai's fear escalates to near hysteria. And it's not because he's apparently in the middle of nowhere. There is a much more pressing question:

When is he?

An overpowering wave of fatigue claims him. The mage collapses, struggling with all his might to remain conscious. In the end, he loses the battle, shadows covering him like a coroner's sheet.

-//-

What a nightmare come true.

Kurogane paces like mad in the never-ending rain. They've been here just one day, but it's already been too long. The witch won't be able to help without an enormous price; Sakura is uselessly cuddling Mokona as the creature silently panics; Syaoran's eyes are on the ninja as he goes back and forth, the boy's leg bouncing up and down in contrast.

...Did they even jump in time?

It'd been like witnessing all the universes blow up at once. Not even a mile away from where he was needed, and Kurogane had never felt so helpless, unable to do anything, watching their neighborhood burst into flames. And it happened out of nowhere, like someone had up and felt like incinerating people that day.

They'd done the only thing they could: switch worlds. Even though Kurogane knew – and still knows – the sickening risk to it. Fai could be as far as 500 years ahead of them; he could be as close as two minutes. Either way, the mage is separated from the rest of them by a matter of time, not just distance, and with not knowing his condition, time is the most valuable thing of all.

“You're going to catch your death, Kurogane-san.”

The ninja pauses – only because it was the princess that spoke, and not Syaoran.

Grumbling, he stalks in from the rotted porch, flopping down on a dry box in the rundown shed. Ignoring the small shivers that squirm around in his cold flesh, Kurogane glares resolutely at the wall. Yes, it's childish, but the ninja wants to stay pissed off.

Keeps the depression at bay.

“This place was destroyed...” Mokona says in a sad voice.

“By what?” the boy asks.

“The princess' feather, right?”

Mokona nods at Kurogane.

“It is even here still?”

“Mm, Mokona can feel it, but it is far away, probably closer to the middle of the city.”

Sakura nods softly; none stir for a long moment. Finally, Kurogane is fed up with just sitting around, and pushes to his feet. Syaoran blinks, and follows suit.

The princess is much less willing. “What about Fai-sa—”

“We aren't going to find anything cooped up in this pathetic little hut,” the ninja growls, already back outside. “Come on.”

Another slight nod, and Sakura falls in line behind Syaoran. None possess jackets – the previous world, even with the mage's spell, had been quite warm – but the buildings of the city are close enough that they don't get very wet scurrying from place to place. There are absolutely no signs of life; not even corpses to prove that there had once been residents in the many homes.

It's as if the people simply disappeared.

They walk for at least a few hours or so, but they don't seem to have gotten any closer – Mokona fidgets constantly.

“Mokona did not think that this city was that big...”

As if a light turns on, Syaoran suddenly stops walking, which in turn halts the princess.

“Kurogane-san!” the boy shouts over the rain. The ninja slows and glances. “This place isn't real!”

“What the hell do you mean it isn't real?” he barks back.

Syaoran jogs to catch up, making sure Sakura is behind him. “Yuuko-san told Sakura-hime and I that the next world we came to would have an 'invisible, unending secret'. I had not thought about it since we left so quickly.”

“Yuuko-chan had Mokona sleep when she was talking. This must be a side effect of someone using the feather,” Mokona chirps.

That really didn't help much, did it.

“Then how are we supposed to get the damn feather?!”

Only the rain replies, but they're all thinking the same thing.

“You had better be out there, idiot,” Kurogane grumbles.

-//-

Cold... it's so very cold...

Fai finds himself shivering violently as he awakes. The water rolling into his eye blurs the scant nothingness he can see. He isn't sure how he's been asleep, though judging by the leaden feeling covering him, the mage can guess it was quite a while.

Fumbling once, twice, thrice – fumbling to right himself. His throat is dry, and it hurts to swallow. Fai's teeth chatter uncontrollably, and he fails to connect a hand to his face to wipe it.

He's utterly terrified.

“K—!” – a ragged cough – “Kurogane! S—S—Sakura! S—Syaoran!”

There isn't even an echo.

Scrambling to get up, the mage gasps audibly as his legs refuse to support the rest of him, and he topples over. A sharp throb in his left knee discourages Fai from trying again, but doesn't totally dissuade him. Gritting his teeth, he shoves himself to his feet, staggers dangerously, but miraculously remains upright.

Where is he supposed to go?

Above him, the light of the moon flashes from behind the dense clouds. Fai stares at where it appeared, then hobble-runs in its direction. Foolish, maybe, but it's the only thing he can come up with to try.

Oddly enough, the farther he goes, the less it seems to rain. Eventually, it ceases altogether, then the storm dissipates from the sky. A warm breeze curls around the mage's frozen form, metallic moonlight illuminating the damp pavement.

Murmurs float around him; Fai stumbles, pausing to listen above the pounding in his skull.

“... ...uu... ...n... ... ...king...”

“...u... ....eath... ...”

He takes a few steps; it becomes louder.

“Ho... ...e supp... ..et... da... ...er...”

And then it drifts away. The mage strains his ears to catch anything else, but nothing comes. His heart is racing even more.

That was Kurogane's voice.

Taking an unsteady breath, Fai howls hoarsely;

“Kuro-samaaaaa!”

-//-

The sing-song scream nearly scares Kurogane out of his skin – he swears hotly, causing Syaoran to turn green and Sakura to flush bright red.

Flipping around, the ninja yells, “Teme! Where the shit are you?!”

There's a long silence, then a booming reply. “I don't know, Kuro-sama.”

He has to wait for the air to settle before calling out once more. “Well you have to be close, or you'd be speaking gibberish!”

The silences make Kurogane antsy. “But I don't see you...”

“Fai-san!” Sakura pipes in. “Where is the moon?”

The ninja turns towards clouds against the fall of the rain – you can barely see it, but it's there.

“I'm looking right at it, Sakura-chan,” comes the shout.

Kurogane blinks; he's facing the moon now.

Studying the ninja's position, the princess speaks again. “Take a step forward, Fai-san!”

Something bumps into Kurogane's back.

-//-

His shaking gets worse, but it isn't from being soaking wet anymore.

Lowering his voice to normal, the mage asks uncertainly, “Sakura-chan?”

“It's me, idiot.”

The mage sighs suddenly, sounding more like an aborted sob. The muscles unseen beneath his quivering touch tense. Fai startles when Kurogane moves away from him.

What feels like a firm arm pulls him into a tight embrace, face pressed against a solid yet invisible chest.

Fai smiles and buries into the wonderful warmth. “Hmm, found you.”

-//-

“Cut it out, you're freezing,” Kurogane complains, but does nothing to push away.

The blank space that's currently the mage chuckles contently.

Syaoran gives a relieved half-smile; Mokona cheers excitedly and nuzzles under Sakura's chin, who giggles rather happily, then says, “Fai-san, we need your help.”

“Are you all alright?” The blank space shifts slightly towards her.

“Mm, we're all fine,” she assures. “But we're stuck in a fake city. Moko-chan says my feather made it.”

A pause; the ninja thinks he feels wet hair wipe against his cheek.

“I must be in a similar place, for I don't see your feather, nor is there anything else here to see. It's just me.”

“Mokona has an idea!” the creature exclaims, hopping atop Kurogane's head. “Kuro-puppy, where is Fai-kitty's shoulder?”

“How should I know?” he snaps.

“Here, Moko-chan.”

It's weird to have his hand be moved by the blank space, the ninja discovers. But he can feel Fai's invisible fingers find his, lift them from the mage's invisible back, then place them on a bony, invisible shoulder. Monoka bounces to sit on the spot, and Kurogane removes his—

“Hold onto Fai-chan's hand, Kuro-muu!”

“Wha—!”

His protest dies on his tongue; the mage already has his hand in a veritable death-grip.

“He is, Moko-chan,” Fai says casually.

Kurogane does a good show of sulking.

“Sakura-chan, hang on to Kuro-chichi's shirt,” Mokona instructs further. “Syaoran-kun, hold Sakura-chan's free hand.” – the boy does so, but if he's embarrassed about it, it doesn't show – “I will help Fai-chan lead the way to the feather!”

“Good thinking, Mokona-sama,” the mage coos.

“Turn to the right some... stop! Okay, onward march!”

The ninja dubiously eyes the wooden house he's almost nose-to-grain with. “Oi, pork-bun...”

But the second Fai tugs him forward, it changes.

-//-

Wading through the rim of the illusions takes its toll after a good hour. Night and day war around him, hot and cold, dark and light; the ground and the horizon are doing a similar, less forceful dance, but it's unsettling all the same. He doesn't know if his next step will find purchase or not.

Fai can steadily sense himself slowing down, his hunger intense. There's no way he can stop and get going again if it turns out he can't feed right now. Maybe he can ask for Kurogane to lead, but the mage has a strange feeling that – as he's separate from the others – it's him who has to be in front, and they don't look to be getting anywhere.

His left foot dips and catches on something he can't see.

“Oi!”

With a jolt, Fai once again finds himself trapped in a strong grip.

“Fai-san?” Sakura's concern sounds distorted in his head. Colors are swirling in front of his eyes, making him feel unbalanced. He can't quite stop himself from shuddering in the ninja's grasp.

“Mok'na,” the mage slurs. “How m'ch further?”

“Still a long way...” – Mokona's voice is equally garbled – “Fai is not okay?”

“S'just taking longer th'n... th'n I'd hoped...”

Much longer. Fai lets his eye close and he concentrates. As expected there's magic everywhere, but it's so dense the mage is surprised they've been able to move at all.

The answer is clear, but he isn't about to jump for joy.

“Kuro,” Fai breathes; a nose grazes his cheek. “I... I need t... t'cast a spell for... us t'get—”

“Fuck no,” the ninja protests vehemently.

The mage makes a pained face, forgetting that Kurogane can't see. “Please.. it's th... th'only way I'll get... s'through...”

“...It'll kill you,” he claims without his usual conviction. Fai knows that the ninja has probably finished concluding that time and the terrain are against them. If they have a chance at a quick, clean run, they should take it.

Whispering, so quiet that not even Mokona can overhear, the mage puts everything on the line.

“I know... you'll catch me... I trust you.”

Kurogane consents faster than Fai thought he would. “...Fine.”

With the ninja's help, Fai sets his stance, holds out his hand, draws from within, and hurriedly presses the ancient words into the void. The mage snaps his arm down, splitting the other magic in two. Exhaustion seizes him instantly, and Fai is out cold.

-//-

As soon as the mage acts, his image fills the blank space. Not wasting a moment, the ninja hoists Fai up and takes off down the cleaved path, hauling the kids along. It takes them maybe five seconds to reach the other side.

The feather sits innocently before them. They're in the city again, still deserted, but there are plants growing everywhere; nature is attempting to heal. Birds chirp and insects buzz and it's... peaceful.

Kurogane is way too distracted to even care.

“Mage,” he demands, lying Fai on the grass. There are no signs of life coming from him at all – the mage already looks long gone. Syaoran remains behind the ninja, peering over him; Sakura again hovers close, Mokona buried in her arms.

“Come on, damn it!” – Kurogane rages inside – there is no time – this isn't happening – why is it always Fai – they have no time – “Mage!” – chain down the sun – cement the stars – there is no time – they have no time – there is no time! – “Fai!”

There's a chant on the wind. The ninja bites his own wrist to make it bleed. Kurogane holds the flow to the mage's lips, pulling back once his mouth is full, then forces him to swallow.

No one breathes just then.

One tired, grateful, shining blue eye opens a few heartbeats later.

-//-

“All finished, Kuro-sama.” The mage pats the fresh bandage below the ninja's hand.

“Hn,” Kurogane huffs, though he knows Fai can hear the thanks behind it.

A mop of blond tresses plops itself against the ninja's collarbone. “Neh, Kurogane.”

The full name gets his utmost attention. “...What?”

With a gentle smile, Fai says truthfully; “I think you top the Pantheon of Saviors.”

-//-

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

[ end ]

o—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—oo—o

-//-

Tsubasa Fic

2007-09-23T23:25:24Z

Title: Fool's Gold -- Chapter 5
Rating: PG-ish for the chapter/PG-13-ish overall
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 1,535
Warnings: AU-ish, Spoilers throughout for manga chapters 150+, and OCs sprinkled here and there
Summary: Kurogane wanted to know why this figure was so bewitching, and sought out to discover just that.
Author's Notes: T___T Last chapter before school. I can't promise when my update times will be from here on out, but I'll do my best! Thank you all for reading thusfar. ^-^
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP

“What are you doing back here, silly?” the blond asked, his words both confusing and astounding. While it seemed the man was trying to hold it back, there was no mistaking his joy at seeing the warrior. He was practically glowing as he trotted towards Kurogane.

Mokona leaped onto the blond's head, giggling, in turn causing the man to laugh. “Who's your friend, Kuro—”

“How do you know my name?”

Kurogane half-regretted asking; all happiness rushed out of those silver pools, the slim body going rigid and pale. The warrior had only seen that kind of expression on a man who thought he was about to die. Slowly, the blond removed Mokona from him and set the creature on the ground, taking a cautious step backwards.

“Oi!”

All heads snapped towards the disturbingly familiar voice.

It was like looking in a mirror for Kurogane.

There was another one of him, standing not too far away, his scowl melting into surprise after a moment. Short black hair, fierce albeit brown eyes, darkened skin – they were even the same height. A tense silence drew in around them, until Mokona broke in rather timidly;

“Umm, Mokona can explain.”

o—o

Once again, the warrior was hard pressed not to skin the damn pork bun and turn the thing into a hat.

The other Kurogane, taking in how mortally shaken the blond was, took to the stage and dismissed the crowd. Thankfully, there was little uproar, and soon the four of them were the only ones left in the area. Still rather distressed, the blond had urgently called out “Kurogane”, the one from this world quickly rushing over to him.

For some reason, the other Kurogane felt an ache to know what was wrong. Was the blond freaked out over there being two of them? Hell, if anyone should be upset, it was the warrior of this small gathering.

Because his guide had conveniently forgotten to mention that he could indeed run into himself in another world.

“I assume that goes for the statue-guy, too,” Kurogane growled at the creature.

Mokona nodded somewhat anxiously. “Yes.”

“No fucking wonder...”

“What 'statue-guy'?” growled the Kurogane cradling the blond in his lap.

The warrior folded his arms. “I'm looking for a guy that had a statue made of him. Looks damn identical to the guy you're coddling.”

“Well this guy never had anything like that done,” he barked back. “And screw off.”

“Why did he become so sick?” Mokona asked sympathetically, gently nuzzling the blond's hand and getting an uneven pat in return.

“That's none of your—” he bit back a grunt as a bony elbow found purchase in the speaking Kurogane's gut. He rubbed at the offended spot as the blond levered himself into a sitting position.

“Kuro-meanie doesn't like to talk about himself, Mokona-kiwi,” rasped the tenor, a weak smile over ashen lips as he continued to pet the creature. “Once, a long time ago, my Kurogane was badly hurt, and he lost his memory for a while.”

Very silent by this point, the warrior Kurogane grimaced as his mind filled in the parts of the story the blond wasn't telling. The rueful shame he found in his other's eyes confirmed his thoughts. It had been a very rough time for both of them – during, as well as after.

“Your Kurogane just scared me, Mokona-kiwi.” – A surprisingly apologetic look was sent Kurogane's way from tired eyes – “But it's okay now.”

There was a weighing pause before the warrior cleared his throat. “One more thing.”

Crouching in front of the blond, Kurogane dragged his finger in the dirt, spelling out the three-letter name like he had done before.

“Fai.”

Blinking, he lifted his head. “...you can read it?”

Blond hair swayed as the man nodded. “It's very similar to an old form of our language. It means 'penguin'.”

“Not your name?”

The man shook his head this time with a faint laugh. “No. My name is Fey,” he replied, leaning down to write it. “Pronounced almost the same way. You wouldn't use 'Fai' as a name, here.”

Kurogane made an interested sound; he actually felt like he'd gotten somewhere, even if this 'Fey' wasn't the one he was after. At least this way, while he didn't mind before, he could actually put a sound behind 'Fai', maybe use it to his advantage should the man play hard to get. After another moment of contemplation, Kurogane straightened and nodded in thanks.

“Pork bun,” he ordered. “Next world.”

The other Kurogane snorted and stood, giving Fey a hand so he could do the same. Mokona stared pensively between the two parties, then scurried onto his Kurogane's shoulder. The creature must have waved, for the blond smiled airily and gave a little wave back.

As Mokona chirped and jumped, the sunset twisting out of view, the warrior heard Fey murmur affectionately;

“Stay safe, Kurogane.”

o—o

“Ow! What the hell, don't hit me!”

“Kuro-Kuro is so foolish! He should not have wanted to move on from Fey's world!”

“There was no reason not to!”

“But we would have had a place to stay!”

“Oi, I have no problem with sleeping outside, it's you who's putting up such a goddamn fuss!”

Mokona blew a raspberry from his perch on the lamppost overhead.

Growling, the warrior barked, “Fine! Stay up there for all I care!”

He didn't get more than three steps away before the creature latched onto the back of the warrior's head.

“Yeah, I thought so. Don't pull my hair!”

The buildings here were massive, sleek and sharp, towering into the coppery clouds. A cool breeze threatened to prick up goose bumps on Kurogane's skin. It felt like it could snow, if it ever snowed here.

Everything was alive – the streets were packed with people, colored lights flickering all around like banners, the sounds of talking mixing with the lumbering purrs of the strange, self-propelled vehicles that passed now and again. Most of the people scurrying around the warrior were short in stature, giving Kurogane an excellent view from which to study them. They had darker skin – much like his own – and the majority were brunettes, a few blonds here and there.

Those occasional yellow-topped heads reminded Kurogane of what had been on his mind after running into Fey. He knew now for certain that Fai had blond hair. The color would be a perfect counter-balance to those frosty eyes. Not to mention that he had found it rather attractive...

“Waa!” Mokona cried, getting tossed to the ground as the warrior stopped dead in his tracks.

'Attractive'?!

All the gears in Kurogane's mind ground to a halt before they quickly backpedaled. No, no, no. Fai was just different, not attractive – positively not.

...Even if he was, the warrior didn't like men in that regard. No, nope, nuh uh. There wasn't an argument to be made here.

Gradually, the skyscrapers tapered down into smaller dwellings, the bustle of downtown quieting in the surrounding neighborhood. A group of children was playing with a ball in the middle of an empty lot, a few adults – probably parents – watching from the sidelines. Straying closer, Kurogane noticed that one of the kids was a blond, with a set of wide, stunning azure eyes.

“Adorable, aren't they?”

A woman smiled at the warrior, her own eyes a deep, royal blue. Curls of gold cascaded down her back and shoulders, twisting in the wind. She was at least two heads shy of Kurogane's height, requiring him to tilt his chin down to see her properly.

Giving a light nod, he glanced back towards the lot. “The small one yours?”

“Yes, the little scamp,” she replied with a fetching laugh. “He and his twin brother get in such trouble.”

The warrior blinked slightly. “He's a twin?”

“Mm, rare, I know, but it's been such a blessing, really.” – Her gaze was far off and tender – “That's Yuui out there. Fai is inside with their father—”

Mokona bounced excitedly. “Fai is here!”

“I'm looking for someone named Fai, or an artist who created a statue with the same name,” Kurogane explained at the woman's look of surprise. He growled towards the pork bun, “Except the one I'm looking for isn't two feet tall.”

Another raspberry made the warrior huff.

“Ah, I see,” she replied with an amused smile. “You looked like a traveler when I first saw you. Do you have a place to stay?”

The implied offer caught him off guard a bit, though he quickly recovered. “It's the thing on my head that's whining about it.”

She giggled softly as Mokona hopped into her arms. “Perhaps we can see if there's anything we can help you with for your search?”

“Mama!” The blond boy raced over to them, a wide smile lighting up his young face. “Mama, who's this?”

“...it's Kurogane,” the warrior answered. Looking at this boy was like looking at a mini form of the statue back home. Could someone have created said statue in the image of what they believed the twins would appear as later in life?

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stick around for a while.

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-09-19T23:56:20Z

Title: Fool's Gold -- Chapter 4
Rating: PG-ish for the chapter/PG-13-ish overall
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 1,245
Warnings: AU-ish, Spoilers throughout for manga chapters 150+, and OCs sprinkled here and there
Summary: Kurogane wanted to know why this figure was so bewitching, and sought out to discover just that.
Author's Notes: Hmm... I'm not that happy with this chapter, as it feels a little rushed, but technically Kurogane is rushing, so Iunno. xDD Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP

Kurogane dropped Mokona and grabbed onto frail wrists before the man could fall over, the most bizarre impulse to apologize making him blink. A pair of wide, icy azure eyes lifted to meet the warrior's look of rather speechless surprise. He didn't even realize he was still holding the man until he straightened with a wobbly smile.

“G—Goodness, I'm sorry, I wasn't really looking at where I was going,” the man offered, brushing a lock of hair from his face once Kurogane had released him.

Recovering after just a moment, the warrior scowled, though it was lacking most of it's usual venom. “Yeah, well, watch out next time.”

The man seemed to find that amusing, for he laughed brightly, then nodded behind Kurogane. “Am I allowed in?”

He needed to say yes, step out of the way, and move on to the next world. Because no matter how eerily similar this guy looked, he couldn't be... there was just no way the warrior was that lucky...

“Did someone carve a statue of you?”

Those blue eyes flickered. “Pardon?”

“A statue. Did someone make one of you?”

“..ahm... If they did, I didn't know about it.”

That was a no. Come on, walk away. Leave the man before you take out the anger on him.

Snagging a wrist again, Kurogane tugged the man into the pottery shop, ignoring the resulting gasp of surprise. Charlie gave the warrior a patient, curious smile as the pencil in his hand was yanked away. After a second to get the image right in his head, Kurogane managed to scribble out on the worn desk: F – A – I.

There was a small flutterer of unsettling hope in the warrior's chest as the man looked long and hard at the name. Discarding the writing utensil, Kurogane watched the his reactions carefully, though he was impatient and prompted;

“Does that mean anything to you?”

With a minute frown, the man softly shook his head. “Can't say that it does.” – He slipped his arm away – “Is it something important? You look upset.”

What an understatement.

“Never mind.”

Kurogane plucked up Mokona once again on his way out of the shop. How infuriating; he'd made a fool out of himself, hadn't he. At least, if anything, the warrior now knew that Fai certainly did not have black hair.

“Warp us to the next one.”

o—o

Time wisped around him, soft and spinning. It pulled him in many directions, but the glow at the end was the strongest of all. And when he reached it, Kurogane found himself unharmed atop the roof of a small building.

With a grunt of satisfaction, the warrior shoved a gleeful Mokona off his head and stood. From this vantage point, the whole city was in view. Way down in the valley below, there were many houses nestled close together in a circular perimeter, framing the busy center of large structures and what looked almost like moving pathways.

Turning around, Kurogane was met with a wide grassy field, and an impressive half-dome type of building a ways off in the distance. There were also people, apparently making their way towards said... whatever it was. It reminded the warrior of the festivals held back home.

“Maa, there must be something going on over there.” Mokona was once again perched upon Kurogane's shoulder.

He rolled his eyes. “Let's go.”

A jump and roll later, they were at ground level. The warrior made it a point to glance at the people around them, but still remain separated from the group. If there was anything that he could do without, it was catching the interest of someone who would likely talk as much as the pork bun did. That might have really pushed him to strangle something.

It took less time to reach the dome than he first expected, though everything tended to appear that much farther from high up. From here, now, Kurogane could see a stage, with rocks set in the ground for an audience to sit on. So it really was like a show.

No one looked to be paying for a seat, which explained the expanding crowd. Interesting; everyone who had shown up so far had very pale, yellow hair. Even the very young and old were blond.

Something about that fact nagged at him in the back of his mind.

Suddenly, the whole area became very quiet, and with his back turned, Kurogane heard talented fingers and arms cause a stringed instrument to sing before he glanced and saw them. Delicate, sweet, but loud enough to resonate over the mass of faces – did the dome amplify it? Certainly sounded that way. A piano joined the slow wave of notes as the warrior took in the player.

He was a thin waif of a man, hair that same faded blond, neatly cut and hanging around the bottom of his nose. Kurogane thought he was too short, but it may have been the angle of the stage from which he was looking at him. The man was dressed in a loose, rather fancy white shirt and black pants, though his feet seemed to be adorned with simple sandals.

But from this far away, while the man was thus far keeping his eyes closed, Kurogane doubted he'd be able to tell the color of his eyes.

Mokona gave a muted gasp of excitement as the warrior planted himself on the ground. There was nothing to do now but wait out the song and catch the man afterwards. Though he certainly wasn't going to complain about having to listen.

This type of music was different from Japan; Kurogane wasn't sure he'd ever seen this kind of instrument before, either. Held under the man's chin as well as resting in his left hand, he ran a long stick over the top of the strings with the other. Something else had to be on the stick to make the sound, but the warrior couldn't make it out from his spot.

People clapped as the song paused, and he figured it must be over, until the beat was dramatically quickened by two drummers on opposite sides of the stage. The other man cracked a wide grin, tapping his foot in time to the new pace. For a moment, Kurogane scoffed – there was no way the man could keep up with that.

Apparently, he could.

Kurogane was near to gaping as the man's fingers flew over the instrument, the stick a mere fluttering blur. Others started to hoot and clap along, urging the man's grin even wider. And he didn't just keep up for a moment or so; this half of the song went on for about as long or longer than the other half did.

Damned if it wasn't amazing, even if the warrior only ever admitted it subconsciously.

Finishing with a flourish and a bow, the crowd lit up and cheered, praising the man's efforts. Shaking out of his thoughts, Kurogane quickly stood and made a bee-line around the back of the dome. Mokona made a whine of protest that went unheard, hanging onto the warrior's shirt for dear life.

The man had just set down a glass of what was probably water by the time Kurogane got there. Their eyes caught, and red ones frowned at the disappointing sight stormy gray one. He would have just walked away, had not the man's face broken into a loving smile and said:

“Kurogane...”

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-09-18T06:58:06Z

Title: Marvelous Dreamer
Rating: PG-ish
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 522
Warnings: AU-ish, Manga chapter 166 SPOILERS
Summary: Did you ever have a dream that you never wanted to wake up from?
Author's Notes: ...is the flood over? *peers out* Seems to be abated... ^^;; I was trying not to add to the sudden (but certainly welcome) rush of posts to the comm., so this is a bit late in posting. Set who-knows-when after Celes and such things, hence the "AU-ish".
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP

~ * ~ * ~

~* M a r v e l o u s D r e a m e r *~

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

They only meet in dreams now. Whose, they never know. Outside of their nights, they can't tell if the other is still existing, still alive.

But they don't think like that while together.

It's Kurogane's turn to be the last one present. He walks into the living room slowly, quietly – why, he isn't sure; maybe he's still afraid that the blond will disappear if he's too loud. Yuui is lying on his side, equally silent, on a couch by a window, watching darkness fall through the rain.

The midnight-haired man slips a hand along a slim, cloth covered thigh, drawing the blue gaze to attention. Both are whole here; an arm restored, and magic returned. With a gentle smile, Yuui draws up his legs to make room, stretching back over Kurogane's lap once he's seated.

Firm fingers press softly against the sole of a pale foot, massaging in small circles, voice a scarce whisper. “Hi.”

Smile growing, the blond preens slightly into the touch, sighing in content. “Hi.”

For a little while, that's all they say. Not even the sound of the rain reaches them. Yuui almost closes his eyes, torn between savoring the foot rub, or savoring the sight of the one giving it to him.

And in the mute pause, they both realize that they need to talk. Because tonight feels different; the air seems thicker, almost oppressive, weighing them down with a sense of anxiety and almost doom. Something is wrong, and something needs to be done.

Kurogane releases Yuui's leg, shifts, and hesitates, then drapes himself over the blond like a living blanket. Lithe arms automatically welcome the midnight-haired man, trapping him in a warm embrace. Two hearts are beating fast; they've never been this close, this intimate before.

“...Kurogane, I...”

“You say you're sorry and I'm going to hit you,” he counters without any real threat behind it.

The trembling laugh that follows makes Kurogane go very still.

Yuui curls shaking fingers into that midnight hair.

“I'm scared,” he breathes.

Fear – a weakness to one who fights, who must put aside emotions and focus on the task at hand. Kurogane used to despise those who admitted to fear; but in this place, in these dreams, he isn't a ninja anymore. Nothing has to be masked in this moment.

Not to mention that hearing any sort of honesty out of the blond is a godsend in itself.

“Don't be,” he replies gently, more gentle than he's ever been in the past. Kurogane sneaks his hands under Yuui's back, holding him even closer. “Everything is fine.”

“I don't want to lose you.” Panic is lacing that wispy tenor; the rain becomes louder.

Gritting his teeth in anger and denial, the midnight-haired man growls, “You are not going to lose me. Not ever.”

A broken sob is all Yuui can say.

Once again, the sun rises, and the dusk fades away. Neither of them dream after that; neither of them ever know what happened to make it end. The only thing that they both think of from then on is this:

I wish we'd had more time.

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-09-15T00:28:58Z

Title: Fool's Gold -- Chapter 3
Rating: PG-ish for the chapter/PG-13-ish overall
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 1,606
Warnings: AU-ish, Spoilers throughout for manga chapters 150+, and OCs sprinkled here and there
Summary: Kurogane wanted to know why this figure was so bewitching, and sought out to discover just that.
Author's Notes: *staggers in* Okay, this would have gotten posted a lot sooner, had I not come down with a horrible case of the stomach flu. x___x But all's good now!
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP

“Can I go now?!”

The witch smirked. “Eager, aren't we?”

Tomoyo gracefully interjected before Kurogane found it fit to rip the woman's head off. “Thank you again, Yuuko-san.”

“I expect those books soon, Princess,” she replied with a teasing flip of her hand.

It was so cute the warrior gagged.

“All set, Mokona?”

Bouncing up to plop onto Kurogane's hair, the white living pork bun enthused, “Ye~es, Yuuko! Mokona is ready!”

“Get offa my head!”

“Waa~!”

Kurogane had a feeling he'd be insane before this whole thing was over.

“Once more, to make sure you've got it,” Yuuko announced after the two had settled down enough. “Mokona will transport you to different worlds randomly. Should you happen to end up in your own world, you will still be on your search.” – She gave him a deadpan look – “Which means no, you aren't off the hook. If and when you find the world the statue came from, report to me through Mokona, and you will return here. ”

“Yeah, yeah, I've got it! I just want to get this over with!”

“Kurogane-san.”

His head snapped over to Tomoyo irritably. “What--?”

--was she doing with his sword?

With a nod from the witch, Mokona twirled into the air, wings unfurling as a strong wind picked up out of nowhere. Kurogane felt a chill zigzag down his spine as things began to fade and break apart in front of his eyes; this was different from the Princess's magic – then he felt himself being sucked into the unknown. The last thing he saw before being hurled through time and space was Tomoyo waving.

“Good luck.”

o—o

Another strip of gauze was wrapped over the gouge in Kurogane's forearm.

“A statue, you say?” inquired Justin, the person currently tending to the warrior.

“Hn,” he mumbled in affirmation. This was ridiculously pathetic. That damn Mokona needed to learn that trees were not things he wanted to be thrown into.

It was going to take some time to get used to the idea that he was in a completely different world. Though Kurogane knew that Yuuko had to be from some other planet, it had been easy to think that he wasn't very far away from home. Here, it was decidedly less of a cinch.

The sky was gold; like someone had kicked up a lot of dust and the wind just couldn't seem to get rid of it. No clouds, not even a visible sun – just a blanket of yellow overhead. While a fascinating change from the usual, it was also unnerving (not that he'd admit to it, though).

“Maa, such a handsome statute!” Mokona trilled from a small table nearby. “Kurogane fell in lovey-love!”

Hell?

“Oi! Keep your mouth shut or I'm gonna skin you!”

Squealing, the creature hid behind Justin, who chuckled as he finished the bandaging. “Seems the two of you get along wonderfully.”

Crossing his arms, the warrior scoffed. “Wonderful nothing. The sooner I figure out where the damn thing came from, the better.”

“Hmm,” Justin murmured, smiling as Mokona buried into his short brown hair. “Well, the only sculptor I know of would be Charles downtown. He practically lives in his shop, so you shouldn't have any problems finding him.”

Standing, the man snatched and began to lightly tickle Mokona, the creature giggling as Justin made his way to the open front door of the small home. Kurogane picked himself up and followed. Outside, it was comfortably warm, gravel paths branching off of a large, cobblestone one.

“Just follow the main road until you see a lot of shops. Charlie's should be right across from you. It's the one with pots sitting around it.”

o—o

Would Fai's hair be brown?

Kurogane doubted it, considering that his eyes had to be blue, and most people with brown hair had brown eyes – at least all the people he'd met so far, including Justin – the warrior labeled it as a remote possibility. Fai's sandals were probably brown, but not his hair.

...Now how had he gotten started on that train of thought?

The warrior shook his head free of the bothersome inklings, the frown settling back into place. Right, quiet; Kurogane had been noticing how quiet it was. A few shadows were ahead of him, and he really had no hint either way if they were humans or animals – he'd seen a shabby tom cat run by, and heard a group of children in the distance, but nothing else.

He wasn't complaining, though, not at all. The relative silence was scads better than the streams of babble that'd been coming out of the pork bun sitting on his shoulder earlier. It was a good thing that, without a willing partner, Mokona quickly dwindled down into humming, then a quiet smile.

Though, begrudgingly, Kurogane supposed some good had come from the raving chatter. Things like how the creature translated dialects on the spot so all parties involved could understand; how they could communicate with Yuuko just about whenever they wanted; that while Mokona could skip between dimensions, there was no guarantee where they would land – topics as such. That last bit got on the warrior's nerves, but he supposed he could live with it.

With a pause and a step, Kurogane barely managed to move himself out of the way of a fast-moving object. Said object was startled, stumbling over the stones of the path, and fell flat. There was a sharp sound of something breaking, and before the warrior could bark at who or what had almost bowled him over, the road was empty again.

Save for the splintered remains of what looked to be a large clay bowl, that is.

Mokona hopped down to inspect the shards of it. “Ooh, Mokona hopes that it wasn't too expensive!” – the creature peered down the path with a curious sound – “They must have been in a great hurry to leave it behind!”

Kurogane frowned. “They were running because they stole it.” He turned and continued walking.

“Ehh?” Mokona scrambled atop the warrior's shoulder again. “Stole it! Why would Kuro-Kuro think that?”

Somewhat distracted by the fact that the road seemed to be widening out, Kurogane absently explained; “You aren't going to be sprinting with something that big in your hands unless you have to.”

“Maybe they were late for something! Don't be so mean, Kuro-bean!”

“It's Kurogane!” he snapped. “And shut up! We're finally here.”

The path expanded into a spacious circle, a large well set in the middle. Surrounding the well, as Justin said, were various shops. To the warrior's muted surprise, there was actually a decent-size group of people mulling about; maybe it was just normal for everyone to spend their day here. Sure enough, the pottery shop was right across the way.

And sure enough, a commotion was going on around it.

“That was my best work! Who does that boy think he is taking off with it?! I swear when I find him—”

“Oi.”

Sputtering, the irate little man fixed Kurogane with a stern glare. He was just taller than the warrior's waist, chubby and wearing tan pair of stained overalls. Frizzy sand colored tufts lay in all directions atop the man's head, his eyes the same color.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“I—”

“We know where your bowl is!”

Kurogane twitched. Hard.

The man's round face lit up with glee. “You do! Where is it, my little friend?”

Mokona gestured animatedly towards the road. “It isn't too far down that way!” – the creature then wilted – “But it is broken. The person fell while running.”

“Pah! Of all the accursed luck!” he groused, shaking both fists in the air.

Grabbing a pair of long white ears, Kurogane growled darkly; “I'm gonna break you if you don't—”

“Charlie!” came a distressed shout from the shop. “The shelf he knocked into is coming down!”

Horror disfigured the man's face as he rushed back inside. “Heavenly fish water, no!”

“...heavenly what?” the warrior murmured to himself.

“Come on, Kuro-Kuro!” Mokona called, bounding into the shop.

Growling like an enraged animal, Kurogane stormed after the creature. He wasn't here to help out like some lackey! Couldn't he just ask if this 'Charlie' knew about Fai and be done with it?

A symphony of crashes told him that it was unlikely.

o—o

“My my, sounds like an exquisite work of art, indeed.”

Kurogane was most certainly not blushing at that comment while he wrestled the heavy shelf to once again rest against on wall. Most of the broken pottery had already been cleaned up, Mokona having a gay ole time holding a dust pan while Charlie's assistant Rose swept up the debris. Charlie himself was taking inventory of what had been crushed and what had survived while listening to the warrior's story.

“That being said, dear fellow, you can obviously surmise that I have never seen or heard of something so well crafted,” the man continued. “I have tried my hand at such statues, but I am much more suited for the wheel.”

Flexing his hands and stepping back from the shelf, Kurogane grunted in reply. He hadn't really expected the first world they ended up in to be the one Fai had come from. Would have been dumb luck if it had; at least he was ready for a dead end.

Charlie grinned widely. “Much obliged. I'm sorry I couldn't help you out.”

“Hm,” the warrior repeated, snatching up Mokona from the floor and heading out of the shop—

—to run smack into a tall, thin, wavy-haired young man.

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-09-11T06:47:17Z

Title: Fool's Gold -- Chapter 2
Rating: PG-ish for the chapter/PG-13-ish overall
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 1,415
Warnings: AU-ish, Spoilers throughout for manga chapters 150+, and OCs sprinkled here and there
Summary: Kurogane wanted to know why this figure was so bewitching, and sought out to discover just that.
Author's Notes: *has a feeling she's spamming* Forgive my sudden fit of inspiration. ^^;; I think muse is desperate to get as much of this story out as possible before college starts again and eats my soul. Last of the slow-ish chapters before things really get a move on. Also, I really have no idea how long this is going to end up being. o_o; Beware~
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP

He wasn't gawking. He wasn't obsessing, either. Absolutely not. Warriors did not gawk, nor did they become obsessed.

Kurogane's glower was about to get too big for his face as his mind jumped back to the man, who he knew was now standing against a wall of the warrior's room. Fortunately, sword practicing was as natural as breathing to him, or the way the statue broke his concentration could have turned out detrimental – not really to him, but to the rest of the things in the area – as sometimes he got closer to slicing a pillar than he really wanted to.

Fai. Fai D. Flourite. Kurogane had no idea how the language was supposed to sound, but he didn't care. Picturing what the words looked like worked just as well; in his head, the statue was called Fai, because that's what he saw.

And he wanted to know more about what he saw. Especially if there was a living being out there that had been the inspiration for the artist's hand. It was far-fetched, sure – but the warrior didn't mind the idea of breaking a few legs to get the information he sought after, even if the statue was just a statue and nothing more.

But he was having problems believing that still.

A blink later, Kurogane realized that his body had paused in its paces. The answer came in the form of a stomach-twisting sight, with Tomoyo standing before him, silently smiling, and his sword hovering at her shoulder – obviously aimed for her neck. Grimacing at the position overall, the warrior dropped his arms to the side.

“I could have killed you,” he grumbled, irritated in general.

The princess's smile merely turned insightful. “You were thinking about him.”

“You and your damn mind-reading.”

She laughed at his growl, like a mother towards her child. “I do not read minds, Kurogane-san. The look on your face told me everything.”

He scowled. “So what. Going off on a wild goose chase isn't going to make me any stronger.” Kurogane put some distance between them and picked back up in his routine.

...Hell if he wasn't going to continue wondering about it, though. It was just so strange; nothing like this had ever interested him. Why was this one different?

Alright, now it was starting to really bother him. Anger rose up in him towards the stupid piece of rock that was taking up space in his room. With a fluid stroke and grunt of annoyance, Kurogane split a large pot in the corner of the open room clean in half – it fell apart, shattering.

Tomoyo's sigh echoed out behind him. “Neither will destroying anything else.”

“Hmph.” The warrior sheathed his weapon.

Butterfly touches settled against his shoulders. Kurogane didn't bother to look. The princess kept her voice soothing. “Japan is at peace. You have found something that I believe you were meant to find, and meant to explore. Resisting your adventure is something that will make you weaker, Kurogane-san.”

That was... a confusing thing to think about. He glanced at her with a dubious frown, and Tomoyo just smiled in return. “The shop owner was kind enough to tell me who he got the statue from.”

Kurogane was hooked. “Who?”

“Someone that I know, coincidentally.” – the warrior turned back around to face her – “I'm sure Yuuko-san would answer any question we have about it.”

“...We?”

The princess giggled softly. “Yes, we. You cannot get to Yuuko-san by walking, Kurogane-san.”

Red eyes rolled in their orbits. “Damn magicians.”

o—o

Two minutes in and Kurogane already hated this woman.

Yuuko's smile leered at him. “Like that statue, do you? You really don't seem like the type.”

His reply was a loud snarl.

Tomoyo ignored it. “Please, Yuuko-san. Might you be able to tell us about it?”

A strange white, small creature suddenly bounded up into the woman's lap, causing Kurogane to frown in surprise. It sort of looked like a fat rabbit... or an over-sized living pork bun. The warrior winced at its much-too-giggly voice.

“Waa~! He was so pretty!” Another living pork bun hopped up next to the other, this one black; “Mokona wanted him to stay, Mokona did!”

Thick eyebrows twitched in agitation. “Look,” Kurogane barked. “Can you tell me anything about it or not? I'm wasting my time here!”

The princess scowled at him. “Kur—“

“I do not know where he came from.”

All paused at the words.

Idly twirling the ears of the white creature, Yuuko continued. “I found him, randomly sitting outside my chambers. There was nothing attached to him to say who he was for or who was the artist or what to do with him. Like someone had lost him or given him up.”

“And you just gave hi—...it, away to some old man?” Good god, warriors weren't supposed to slip up sentences like that...

That infuriating, wicked grin was back. Yeah, Kurogane really didn't like her. She acted like such a witch.

“Mado-san is an excellent source when it comes to certain things.” – did she just wink? – “He deserved payment, and seeing as he's an art collector and salesman, giving him the statue seemed appropriate.”

Kurogane crossed his arms with a huff.

Yuuko turned back into seriousness. “Forsaken or not, the statue was sent here by someone from another dimension. Whomever it was knows of myself, and how to transport by magic. What concerns me, is that I did not see this coming.”

“What, you can tell the future?”

“All the time, when it is important.” – she fixed Kurogane with a hard look – “I knew that you were going to visit me.”

There were too many implications in that statement for the warrior to respond with anything more than a quiet 'tsk'.

“Yuuko-san...” Tomoyo began after a moment of silence, then appeared to change her mind with what she was about to say. “We will be back tomorrow.”

Before Kurogane could ask why the hell they were going to do that, they were already standing in the palace again.

o—o

Blue; the blue of snowy skies and icy oceans – if Fai were real, Kurogane would bet money that his eyes were blue.

It'd taken a terse ten minutes of shouting, an hour of stalking out in the woods while felling anything in his path, and another hour of calming down through sword practice before the warrior was level enough to return to his room. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd known that in his rage brought on by the princess's proposition, he would have been in good risk of shattering what was causing him so much grief. And while he had still entertained the idea as he shoved his door aside, it ran out of his mind the moment he laid his eyes on Fai's marble ones.

He was sitting on his futon now, elbow on knee and chin on palm, brow drawn up in frustration and thought, stare alternating between the wall and the statue.

When he'd finally been able to demand an explanation, Tomoyo told him he was to find where Fai had come from; both because she herself wanted to know, and that Kurogane was meant to. Like shit he was going to do that. In response, she said he was going to either do it willingly, or she'd force him to do so. And when he completely failed to understand why, the damn girl brought up “adventure” and “weakness” again.

Though the order still caused him to growl, he figured it could be a good challenge to fight in other worlds. He wasn't even going to try to wrap his mind around the 'worlds' thing right now – Tomoyo had brought it up a long while ago, and he hadn't paid half as much attention as he probably should have – it made a weird sort of sense. Besides, it was already a sure fact that he could beat anyone here without trying.

For some reason, that particular thought made the warrior raise his gaze to Fai's again. It would be so easy to run the statue through, break it into a million pieces and crush the ruins into dust, that it wasn't even funny. He could do it without trying.

Kurogane's mouth crooked into a smug smirk.

What an interesting comparison it would be to find out if the man this statue was fashioned after were the same way; if Fai were real, would he crumble just as simply?

Now there was a question the warrior was determined to answer.

~LJW

Tsubasa Fic

2007-09-10T05:00:18Z

Title: Fool's Gold -- Chapter 1
Rating: G-ish for the chapter/PG-13-ish overall
Fandom: Tsubasa
Pairing: Kuro/Fai(Yuui)
Word Count: 727
Warnings: AU-ish, Spoilers throughout for manga chapters 150+, and OCs sprinkled here and there
Summary: Kurogane wanted to know why this figure was so bewitching, and sought out to discover just that.
Author's Notes: Inspired by the song Once by Caleb Kane. HOMG RUN! She's writing a multi-chap fic!! *shot* ^^; Nevermind. I guess the way to describe the AU is that everything is mostly the same, minus the looking for feathers part. I love Syaoran and Sakura, really, and they're still in the story, but the plot called for a little AU-tweaking. It's gonna start off a little slow, but don't expect it to stay there.
Disclaimer: Tsubasa and characters belong to CLAMP.

He wondered if it were possible to fall in love with someone made of stone.

Not that he would call himself an fan of the arts. Sure, paintings were colorful, vases were shiny, and tapestries were big. They simply held no practical use, as far as the warrior could see. A skillfully crafted, strong and healthy blade; now there was a work of art.

But on this particular walk – scratch that, the princess was dragging him along again – through the finer streets of Japan, something finally caught his eye that wasn't a sword.

No, it was so far from being a sword that Kurogane probably would have been amused had he not been so captivated. He stopped so suddenly that he almost tripped over himself. Tomoyo called out to him in surprise, but he never heard her.

It was a statue, made of marble, in the likeness of a man that seemed too... too... he couldn't put his finger on it, but it was too something... to have come from anything other than the wistful passion of another mind. The man was tall, like a young tree, and thin to a point of almost being dangerously so, shirt and long pants clinging to him. In perfect craftsmanship, a long, fur trimmed coat billowed around the statue's sandaled feet; sleeves that were almost foolishly long hung gently off extended wrists. It was almost as if the man were about to play a harp that wasn't there.

What had stolen the warrior's attention the most, however, was the statue's face. Lightly curled hair played around the delicate build of the cheeks and slightly pointed chin; Kurogane wondered, if this man were real, would the tresses feel as soft as they looked. A perfect smile sat under a slim nose, which hovered between two deep, lovingly detailed eyes. They seemed to stare right at him.

“Beautiful, isn't it?”

Kurogane's customary scowl was intensified towards the owner of the voice for interrupting his... inspection.

Because he hadn't been gawking. No. Gawking wasn't something warriors did.

The old man seemed annoyingly unaffected. “Imported from worlds away.” – he sighed amorously towards the topic of conversation – “In all my years, I have never seen such an extraordinary piece.”

“Are you the owner of this statue?” Tomoyo chimed in at Kurogane's side.

“That I am, dear princess,” he replied with a genial smile. “And while I would hate to give this one up, I know that it will fetch me a lovely sum.”

She giggled, and before Kurogane had a chance to bark at the old man treating her in such a familiar fashion, Tomoyo continued. “What did you have in mind, oji-sama?”

“O—Oi...” Kurogane was somewhat ruffled, he hadn't said he wanted the statue.

Though... now that he thought about it... maybe he did.

“Oh hush, you,” she chided teasingly. The warrior really had no problem in obeying her this time.

Except he still glared when the old man chuckled. “Goodness, dear princess. I think I shall let you make that choice. I do believe someone such as yourself could make a... generous estimate of what this statue would be worth. I would feel as a thief any other way.”

In an attempt to not bash the geezer's face in, Kurogane glanced back at the item in question. 'Imported from worlds away', indeed; that foreign something the statue possessed wasn't like anything else the warrior had seen in Japan – and he'd seen plenty. Perhaps he was being too touchy-feel-y about it... but there was a story here that Kurogane was almost itching to find out.

His focus swerved back to what was being said just as the princess asked, “What is its name?”

“Well,” the old man began, crouching down a bit to peer at the underside of the statue's right hand. “There's an inscription here, on the palm, that I believe is the name. But, my eyes are not what they used to be, and I cannot tell what it says.”

Not bothering to wait for the geezer to move out of the way, Kurogane bent at the waist and craned his head to see. Sure enough, there was a faint engraving on the heel of the man's palm. Squinting, he was able to see it more clearly, but it wasn't in a language he recognized;

~ Fai D. Flourite ~

~LJW

Z:TP Fic

2007-08-11T02:13:33Z

Title: Sol
Fandom: Zelda: Twilight Princess
Characters: Midna, Link, mentions of Zant
Rating: G
Word Count: 500
Warnings: None
Summary: What can you do after risking your life?
Author's Notes: Oh do I love this game. *has plans to go back and play it over and over and over again*
Disclaimer: Zelda dun't belong to me.

I watched him in silence. Now, I'm not one to show I'm concerned, but I couldn't keep the frown off my face. That last boss had been a real strain on his body, judging by the way he half drug himself to the water to heal. I couldn't imagine how it felt to be jerked around by those claw-shot things of his for so long, not to mention the few times he was too late or too soon and fell a good 10 stories to the ground.

Thankfully, as I was still a shadow, the boy didn't seem to notice my expression when he glanced over. The motion was weary, but his eyes... those twin feral ice gods of his were as strong as when I first found him. He'd taken a beating, for sure, but he was far from broken.

'Then can we please get home and save the Twilight Realm?' one part of me nagged. We were wasting time just sitting around now that we had all the other mirror pieces. Who knew what Zant was doing there... casting more evil magic to further torment my people..

My people... Now there's a joke.

When he looked back away, I figured it was time to move on. I opened my mouth, almost got out his name--

“Ehehehehe..!”

I blinked in confusion as he flopped onto his back in the water with a splash.

Did he just laugh?

Moving to hover over him, I saw a giant grin pulling at his lips, blue ice shimmering in mirth. I believe I may have gaped at him. Just what in this world was so funny?

I froze as he stretched his arms up towards me.

“We did it, Midna.” -- he was smiling now, and his smile was warm, like the glow of a Sol -- “We got past everything that no one else could, and now Zant has nowhere left to hide. We're going to go save your realm, and if nothing has stopped us yet, what is there that can stop us now?”

What he said... it got to me.

It was true, wasn't it? We'd done so much – escaped from the castle, found the pieces of the Fused Shadow, returned the Tears of Light to the guardians, fought a way to the Mirror Chamber, then tackled three more temples – and now we were here. Somehow alive, somehow breathing, somehow able to still go on...

I rolled my eyes with a smirk. “Yeah, we're not done yet. So get up and let's go!”

With one last chortle, he rolled to his feet. I focused my energy, care pricked him with the shard of dark power to transform him, then warped us back to the Mirror Chamber. As we arrived, and he walked towards the pedestal, I found myself smiling.

He didn't know it, but he was the only reason why there was a 'we' at all.

'You're the one who's got us this far, Link. You're the one who saved me.'

~LJW