Hey guys!

Since Greek and Roman mythology is so awesome and I am slightly addicted to the Underworld as well as being a Tsubasa fan, I decided to combine myth and manga. Be warned, this is slightly KuroSaku, but it's not in-your-face-romancing, so those who aren't fans/ supporters need have nothing to fear.

Spoilers abound about Kuro-bun's past! If you haven't read it and don't want to be spoiled, then don't read this fic!

It's a little angst, a lot of humor (when doesn't that happen?), and always fantasy. Enjoy!

--cy.

He was sick of it, sick and tired, and it was beginning to seep through his flesh, gritting into the very marrow of his bones. The ennui, the sense of placelessness.

The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the window panes, brazing the drapes golden and painting the floor warmly as the day ended.

Fai snapped a book shut triumphantly.

"Well, that does it for today. We'd better turn in and start going off to get some dinner. Kuro-pippi, you coming?"

"Don't call me that! And no, I'm not hungry. There's something I want to see here." Kurogane's eyes lingered on the spines of books, nose wrinkling at the dust collecting on the shelf.

Sakura looked like she was about to protest ("But dinner is important, Kuorgane-san!") but Fai ruffled her hair and led her and Syaoran out. "We'll see you back at the inn later, then, saa?"

Kurogane grunted noncommittally, not even moved by the click of the great wooden doors as they slid shut.

The Great Library of Recort was rumored to never close, open all days and all hours for its patrons to peruse as they pleased amongst the stacks, hunting for elusive tomes. Kurogane wondered how the librarians kept people from living in here, but then decided that perhaps these were methods he didn't want to know about.

He sighed, and turned to another section, letting himself be pulled to a old, dusty volume.

He was getting tired of this business, gallivanting across endless centuries and countless dimensions. If there was something that he wanted, it was for a place to rest his time-wearied soul and stay. There was no home for him to go back to, at least not one that he, as a child, had grown up within the walls. Even Nihon seemed beyond him now, with the myriad of worlds that lay before them, waiting to be visited; he could just as easily pick a star out of the sky and say that they would travel there as go back to his old home.

The others hadn't seemed to have accepted that, what with Syaoran's fierce determination pulling him onwards, Fai's flighty ambivalence (hell, the mage liked this sort of thing), and Sakura's carefree amnesia.

Brushing the cover once with his sleeve--why did he have to wear these ridiculous clothes anyway? No one could fight well in a suit and greatcoat-- he inspected the title. The words were ornate, their gold-plated outline making them dance in the candlelight that now illuminated the library bookcases:

ACROSS FIVE RIVERS

A Compleat Guide to the Wayward Waterwayes & Disillusioned Depths

Kurogane's eyebrow rose. How had he found something like this? It definitely wouldn't help them with their journey, but... it was weird, like something was compelling him to read it, if only the sheer fact that he actually could understand the language the words were written in. And what about the title, did this place only have five bodies of water? Curious more than anything, he gave the cover one last glance--there was an illustration, it looked like something writhing, twisting--

Gently easing the book open, he found the first page of text and began to read. Much to his surprise, the symbols on the pages seemed to be reshaping themselves into characters that he could recognize, just a sentence's breadth before his eyes reached them. Naturally suspicious of magic, even more so after traveling with that mage, he still felt awe at the fluidity at which the words shifted. What sort of library was this place?

A line in the first paragraph jumped out at him. Tracing the path of the words as he read, he didn't realize until he heard his voice say them that he was reading aloud.

"And thus engulfed, we drown, and traipse along the dark way down."

He had just about enough time to wonder what idiot impulse had made him read the words to himself aloud before the air turned to water and at once, he found himself floating. The book remained open, slowly drifting away from him on some passing torrent, as the invisible seas swept him up and off the floor, suspended him above tables and amongst shelves.

For anyone else, it would have been a moment of utter panic. However, this was Kurogane, and if there was one thing he had been trained to do, it was to keep his head in the face of danger and to refrain from panic at all costs. But, if there was one thing that Kurogane hadn't been trained to do, it was swim.

And now, muscles flailing uselessly at nothing, he grasped with all his strength at shelves and door frames, unable to catch a grip on anything before the unseen current whirled him off and onward, deep into the library's depths, unnoticed by the other patrons, too focused on their studies. He could only hold his breath for so long before the darkness claimed him and he was lost to the mercy of the waves.

--

Their dinner had consisted of a neat little wheel of cheese, some finely sliced deli meats from the local butcher, and two crisp loaves of sourdough. Fai had talked the dairy seller into giving him four small milk bottles for an exceedingly good price, and they had had those as well to accompany their feast. Both Sakura and Syaoran agreed that the meal had been quite good.

As they helped Fai clean up, the set had already dipped low below the horizon, lending free reign to the shadows that wished to explore their rooms. Taking a box of candles out, Fai began placing them around the house and lighting them as Sakura followed.

"Another good day of work, you two! I'll handle the rest of the clean-up from here. Syaoran-kun, you should go out and practice your swordplay. Wouldn't want Kuro-run to think you're going soft, right?"

"Right. I'll get on that." The boy looked back at Sakura, who seemed to be trailing around the magician rather anxiously, as though waiting for something. Still, he had to ask. "Sakura-hime, would you like to watch me? The stars are just beginning to come out for the night."

Sakura bit her lip and declined. "I'm sorry, Syaoran-kun. Maybe tomorrow?"

He smiled. "Sure!"

Once the door had shut behind him, Sakura's face had dissolved back into worry, her brow furrowed, and words trembled on her lips. Fai smiled to himself and deftly stroked a candle's wick, which slowly began to glow brighter and brighter, until a small flame formed.

"Sakura-chan, you know you're no good at hiding when you're upset."

Sakura pouted, half in recognition and half in frustration. Of course she could conceal things! Perhaps, when it mattered the most, they'd find out what she'd been keeping from them, and they'd see that she really could keep secrets...But for now, she had something else on her mind, something she didn't mind talking about.

"Fai-san, don't you think Kurogane-san should have come back by now?"

The magician cocked his head as though thinking, eyes roving over some part of the cathedral ceiling their room had, as he fixed another candle in a holder. "I can't honestly say that I expected him to be out so long." He said, taking his time over the words as though giving careful consideration to each one. Sensing her worry, immediately his mood lightened. "But I wouldn't fret about grumpy, old Kuro-bun! He's probably working hard to try to find your feather and got caught up in his reading. Saa, a ninja absorbed by a story! How weird."

He graced her with a grin and directed her attention out the window. The room they'd rented was on the top floor of the inn, overlooking the busy square that fronted the library, still lit, a beacon in the oncoming night.

"See, Sakura-chan? There's nothing to worry about. The library has candles in it, and no doubt is taking care of everyone who chooses to spend their evening studying. Recort has a reputation for being a scholar's haven, so they make sure their libraries are excellent." He noticed her expression soften, but not completely break into her trademark smile.

"Look, how about if you go take Kuro-min some of the food we saved for him? I'm sure he'd appreciate it." Fai winked rougishly. "Just make sure that the librarians don't catch you! I don't think they'd like someone bringing dinner inside with all the books, but I'm sure Kuro-tan will be careful."

And with that, Sakura was on a mission. Bundling the remainder of the sourdough with some of the meat and a wedge of cheese, she made the food into an orderly wrap, enclosing it and the milk in a bookbag so as not to arouse suspicion. She called out a good-bye to Fai, who was reading over some of their findings, and waved to Syaoran, even though he was blindfolded and couldn't really see her, much less what she was doing.

The lions at the top of the steps didn't seem too perturbed by her entrance, which made her less anxiously aware of the food she carried in her bag. Making her way up the staircases that led to the spot that she'd last seen Kurogane at, she cautiously looked around, not wanting to disturb him if he was working, but also not wanting to miss any clues to his location. After searching, and peeking, and retracing her steps to where she started, she arrived at the conclusion that the ninja was nowhere within the area.

Her search had, though, turned up the sheaf of notes and notepaper that he'd kept handy, with no trace of their author on to be found. Sakura reasoned that the man she was waiting for would surely come back to claim them eventually--perhaps he was on the first floor, or somewhere else, looking for another book, and would have to return soon. She sat down at the table he'd been using, setting her parcel on the floor beside her, and waited.

It wasn't long before she realized that she was getting incredibly bored. Though her fellow travelers were always quick to lament the sorrows and misfortunes not having any memories had meant for her, they hardly ever thought about the practical repercussions of such a loss. She didn't have memories that she could think about in her spare time and try to puzzle out or laze in, or use to lend fuel to her daydreams; she was a constant blank slate, eagerly taking in information where she could. So, sitting alone in a library with nothing left to her but her thoughts, did not occupy her long.

It should not be surprising that the open book lying somewhat askew on the floor caught her attention.

Walking over to it and picking it up, she wondered how the librarians had let it get in such a state. Wasn't this library supposed to be famed for the great care it saw that its books received? Curious, she let her eyes sweep over the page that it had been left open at.

At first, the words seemed archaic and hard to understand, but once she got into it, she found that it was engrossing. It wasn't a handbook or researcher's manuel, as many of the books they'd been hunting through had been, but rather a story.

A story, as it so happened, that one man, alone and soaking wet in a land of rivers, was seeking to escape.

"A warrior came to a crossing, and stopped, peering out over the midnight-touched water..."

Damn, this place was nasty as hell.

Kurogane stood, finding himself on the bank of a jet-black body of water that certainly would have had a difficult time fitting into the library. Perhaps that weird current had swept him underneath it? Unkinking his shoulders, he shook off the feeling of weariness that settled over him and stepped closer to where the water met the sand. Mist seemed to be rising above the river, coming toward him on a wind he couldn't feel the breeze of. His hand unconsciously went for Sohi.

They were...shapes, more than shapes. It was as though they were humans clad in formal robes that were too long for them, making it seem like they were gliding when they moved, features stark and dark in their gaunt faces.

"And who are you to cross our river? You whose misdeeds and rage have cut down so many, you wish to be ferried over the tides? You would be better off swimming."

Kurogane growled, and clenched Sohi tighter. Whatever this place was, it was sure as hell getting on his nerves. And what was this? Why did the shadows floating on the river's surface look so familiar? He stepped closer, and at once the shapes descended, determined to bar his further passage.

Suddenly, the realization struck him and he fell back.

"There, on the banks of the Acheron, he saw the shades of those he'd vanquished in combat, those whose souls could not rest because they had touched its waters unknowingly, and found themselves unable to break free of the river's tenuous hold. The stream wound on and on, retrieving those he'd slain, and pouring them out on his shore. A ferryman saw the new arrival and made his way over to the warrior."

"Hail and Fortune preserve you, wanderer. I fear you have gone too far off your chosen path."

Kurogane snorted. One minute, he'd been surrounded by the long white shadows, and then the next, they had fallen back to the river, muttering amongst themselves, whispering, "You sent us here. You murdered us."

"Yeah, and I'd do it all again, so shut up!" He yelled back at them, anxious for the voices to stop, to stop talking ,stop saying all the things he wanted not to think about...

"...fell from the top of the palace. I was pushed from the very highest spire..."

"A sword wound to the gut and I sank into the lake..."

"The Princess was never a good ruler of Nihon, anyway."

"--agony of a festering wound--"

"Worthless. All you have done was worthless. It changed nothing."

"...the medicine never arrived. My son's espionage would have brought us enough money to afford it..."

"He killed me with my own arrow, taking it out of his shoulder and--"

"SHUT UP! All of you, be quiet!" He clamped his hands on his ears furiously, trying to block out the sounds. The dark shapes of demons began to crowd the water's edge. Feeling their presence, Kurogane's head jerked towards them and went pale. A familiar contortion of anatomies faced him, the same build that, so many years ago, had held a lone arm in its mouth, an arm that gripped a sword...

"You..." He rasped, voice hoarse and limbs numb with anticipation. He rose and walked to the edge of the shore, Sohi drawn.

The man in the boat sighed and looked at a watch he had concealed within his robes, bored. "You know, don't you, that if you let yourself get drawn into the water, you'll never be able to come out? You'll be just like them, writhing in the waves and forever sniping at each other. It's your choice, but I'd recommend against it. Obnoxious lot, this one, but, ah, what can I do. Only so many rivers to ride, and I have to make ends meet somehow."

Kurogane's eyes never wavered. "I could slice through that son of a bitch once and for all."

The ferryman shrugged. "Nah."

The ninja's head aburptly swung around to look the man in the face, crimson eyes burning into him. "What was that?"

"Nah. You'd sink to the bottom as soon as you touched a toe in it. Might be funny, seeing you to try to get to each other to do mortal combat for all eternity. But, no, you wouldn't achieve your purpose. Besides, blighter's already gone. Let it lie."

Unmoving, Kurogane stood there, stiff and washed out, like a dead thing walking. "And what other choice is left to me?"

"Now you're talking." Closing the watch with a snap, the man on the ferry pocketed it and breached the shore. "You keep going. There's someone waiting for you, there always is with you people, for some reason. But, to do that..."

"'I'll need a price.' The man said, grinning. For all those who wished to cross the river, they had to pay a price, whether in coins of gold or in possessions they valued. In return, they would be taken to the next shore, then the next, until they reached the very end..."

"What good would it do me? There's got to be a bridge across it."

"You'd be surprised at how wide the banks are apart. And at how often bridges have a tendency to break," he gave Kurogane a toothy grin, and accented the last word, "just when one crosses o'er the middle."

Kurogane rolled his eyes. He knew he was being forced into something, and could sense the futility of resistance. "What's your price?"

The man's smile widened, and he looked positively delighted. "Oh, something small, nothing you wouldn't mind giving up, I'm sure. How about the color of your eyes? I've never had eyes that burn as a fire's does, I'm sure it would be intriguing. What do you say?"

"And the warrior reluctantly acquiesced, marking the first of the bargains he would have to strike to earn his passage."

Holding out his hand so that it covered both of Kurogane's eyes, the man blocked his sight for a moment (in which Kurogane felt a sharp, but brief pang), and removed his hand, holding a tiny vial of something scarlet, tinted with light, and swirling.

"Mmm, dragon's fire red. What a find..."

Tenatively, Kurogane reached up a touched his eyelids.

"Oh, nothing to concern yourself about. I didn't take your eyes. You'll probably have...ah! Onyx black. Standard fare." He chuckled at his joke.

"And so on they paddled, riding the waves of the river of pain, past the old spirits of the warrior's life, past those that he would rather faded into the shadows, and not stayed to lurk on the sideways of his passage. On reaching the other side, he found himself in a grove of tall trees, all calling out to him."

"Wait," Kurogane said roughly, grabbing the oarsman by his collar. "Where's the next guy I need to go to? You said there were five of these things I need to cross."

The ferryman smiled again and it was not the sort of expression that Kurogane liked to see on people he threatened: mockery, and a sense that they knew something more than he did. "Over through yon grove. I trust you'll have no difficulty getting by it."

Kurogane looked over the grove. Its trees seemed pretty pitiful, leaves barely hanging onto branches that reached into the sky and grasped at the pathway. It certainly didn't seem like a challenge to make it through there.

It really wasn't.

He had been a little taken aback when the trees started to talk, and then moaned at him about their old love lives and how they had never been wanted, but Kurogane took great pleasure in responding to each he could pick out of the din.

"She never loved me..."

"Yeah? I can see why."

"...and he never returned from his journey."

"Neither have I yet, and I don't wail about it. Suck it up. Idiots."

From time to time, a branch would flick out at him and try to catch hold of his clothes, but his speed allowed him to dodge those easily. He also came upon a wolf, lion, and tiger, who all blocked his path. Unsheathing Sohi, he drove each off.

Suddenly, a bright, flickering light on the horizon illuminated the pathway's end. Wanting to find out what it was, Kurogane pursed it onward, and saw an incredible sight:

A river, wide and deep as any he'd seen, made entirely out of flowing flame.

"After traversing the grove of the suicides, the warrior came upon the second river, the river of fire known as the Phlegethon. As he approached its banks, another oarsman paddled up to him. The flames refused to lick the boat he rode on, and the man had eyes as cold and blue as ice."

"Hey. I want passage across this thing." Kurogane didn't even bothering trying to ask if it could be swum. He could already feel the heat of the flames

The man nodded, scrutinized him, and then made his demand.

"Your dexerity will be the price."

"My what?" Kurogane asked incredulously.

"Your speed and agility. That is the only thing that will get you across this river."

Kurogane bit his lip and stared across the expanse. There seemed to be no other way. "Fine."

Nodding once more, the man extended his hand and as soon as Kurogane took it, he felt his arms grow heavier under the oarsman's touch. He withheld a gasp, as the ferryman whisked him away, across the waves of flame. Every so often, the flame would erupt through whatever barrier surrounded the boat they traveled in, and Kurogane always found himself too slow to move away. It was as though a second's breadth had separated him from receiving attacks before, and now that gap was gone.

They reached the other side, uneventfully, except for a moderately more toasted Kurogane.

"You are of the water, are you not? Your line links you to it, and yet you can't seem to find your way in it." The oarsman said, musing.

"What are you saying?"

"Nothing, nothing..." The voice trailed off, as the man receded into the fire.

--

Sakura looked up, saving her place, but closing the book.

What an odd volume. Whenever she read it, she thought she was seeing the pictures come alive before her, the warrior and the various ferrymen played out by characters in her mind. For some reason, something that she couldn't quite pin down, the dark-haired swordsman seemed to remind her almost exactly of...

No! That was silly. Kurogane-san had his own reasons for wanting his solitude, and would probably become very worried and even more sullen and less trusting if she asked him about it. Surely, the book was just making her conjure up images of people she knew, and since she was worrying about Kurogane-san, he'd naturally starred in her recreation of the story. That must be it.

Letting go a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, Sakura opened the book and got back to her reading. It was interesting, and as Kurogane hadn't returned to his table yet, she found she had ample time to continue.

"The warrior came upon the next waterway, most lengendary and hallowed of them all, known by many names but only one naming it truly, the Styx. As the warrior approached, a man standing on the battlements across the hallowed stream came into view..."

She shut her eyes. Why did the man she pictured look so familiar? She was certain she hadn't seen him before, but somehow...somehow, the man with the insignia of a bat on his robes reminded her of something...

--

"You..." Kurogane breathed, eyes alighting on the bat crest on the man's robes.

The bat-robed man smiled. "Yes, me. What is it you want of me, pawn? Don't linger too long here or the lovely ladies of this city will make sure you stay forever." He smiled, and Kurogane saw fires rising on the castle fortifications behind the man.

"You killed her, just to get me to come on this venture. Because you knew it would set things in motion so that you could get what you wanted." His fingers twitched, with none of the fluidity they had before. He stepped into the waters, not caring what power or force would draw him further or keep him there, and called out to the man above, "Well, fine. Let's settle this for once and for all."

"Oh, my dear pawn, my little object of misfortune. Your mother got in my way, with her charms and enchantments around your country. And when something gets in the way of your wishes, you must surpass it, must you not? Have you not also surpassed many whose wishes you considered unimportant compared to your own? Answer me that."

"I'll answer you when I hold a blade to your throat!"

Kurogane tried to move closer, but to no avail: it was like he was running through molasses, the slowness of his limbs and the water damping his movements. He wasn't swimming, but rather standing on the bottom of the riverbed, shallow yet, but releasing unpleasant odors into the air.

"Come and get me then, child. Will you fulfill your wish or will I triumph over you as well? Only Time will tell."

About to jump up, Kurogane abruptly discovered he could no longer move his legs. Something swept past him in the water and caught onto his sleeve, trying to pull him downstream, away and deeper in the abyss...

"Trapped in the river of wrath, the warrior found himself pulled downward by the souls of the Sullen, who lived beneath the slime of the riverbed. Meanwhile, the souls of the wrathful raged deep below the water, casting a vengeful red glow on the river's bottom, forever at war. Full of anger, the warrior didn't notice the ghastly hands that were slowly pulling him down until the third of the ferrymen, and the most famous, hit him over the head with an oar and demanded two coins of payment."

"Damn you!" Kurogane raged, still fighting to get to Fei Wong, and ever sinking with his motions. Then, realizing that it would be simply easier to dispatch the boatman and take his vessel to get to opposite shore, he unsheathed Sohi and swung it, only to find that it was much lighter than he remembered. He looked at the blade.

In his hand, he found two gold coins in place of his sword. He was sure he'd gripped the hilt. The water was too murky by the bank to see if it had gotten lodged in the mud, and he recoiled as black, skeletal hands reached out toward him as he moved toward the center.

The ferryman silently took his two coins, and, with strength greater than Kurogane would have thought possible for someone of such a slight physique, pulled the ninja onto his craft. Without a word, he paddled them onwards, past the burning city's battlements, on which Fei Wong was nowhere to be seen.

"As they traveled, the warrior felt the weather gradually change from the burning heat of the Styx and Phlegethon to a more frigid, icy atmosphere. Breath materializing before him in the air, the warrior found himself left to walk a trail of snow, a dock in the distance. All the time he could hear cries, wails, and lamentations. 'Enter now the river of mourning, come now to the river of woe.'"

It was a sound he knew, had known all too well. Sobs and choked off cries, the dregs of wrath filled this place and he wanted nothing of it. There wasn't room for remorse in his business.

He spaded his hands in his pockets and walked onwards, until he reached the next edge. There, a river made up of glaciers and ice shards swept past, winding and twisting at an alarming rate. And, as had happened, all the times before, an man in a boat steered up to him.

"I am the last of them. No more will come after me." The guide's voice was like a mix between an autumn breeze, rattling dead leaves to force them to the cold, still earth and the gargling sound one makes when trying to talk underwater. It paused, shining cooly against the snow, as though waiting for him to speak.

And then it smiled. Kurogane frowned, having had enough of this.

"So am I. What's up with the next river, the one without anybody? Can I just cross for free?"

A glacier out in the swirling mass cracked, a stark, fierce sound out in the bleak eddies. Kurogane wondered how so fragile-looking a boat as theirs would get him to his next destination. He was almost out of this damn hole, and no power in Hell was going to keep him from getting back to Nihon, not this quest, not the feathers, not these rivers.

"There is nothing free is this place. The river after this will demand everything: your mind, memory, and legacy. It will release you, but not without taking everything from you." It grinned again. "I wish only for your voice. I will take nothing else. It's such...a little thing, speaking. Inconsequential, and yet so treasured. Strange."

"Fine, damn it. Get me out of here."

The spectre's eyes crinkled and it raised a hand to his throat. Kurogane felt an unseen force direct his mouth upward, and a tan vapor spiraled out, glinting in the false light reflected from the snow. He coughed, doubled over, and put a hand to his chest. The thing, meanwhile, retreated back to its oar, and motioned for him to come aboard.

Kurogane tried to cuss him out, but found no words left his throat. It was as though he was speaking, but everything he tried to say was carried away on too strong a gust of wind. Eyes widening at the depth of the deal he'd struck, he swallowed, mute, and walked to the boat.

It was at that moment, that, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted her.

Drifting along the ice chunks as gracefully as she had moved in real life, searching in each direction as though eternally seeking out something, was a ghost in the perfect likeness of his mother.

He tried to cry out, waving his arms, grabbing stones and hurling them into the waves, but to no avail. She swept past on her hunt, back turned, scouring the opposite direction than her son. As her form faded into the distance, for the river flowed fast despite its baggage, he knelt on the ground, shivers racking his insides.

"Come along," he heard his own voice gruffly call back at him, issuing forth from the mouth of the ghast, which was grinning with its much too wide grin. "Voices are indeed funny things."

"The warrior could not have known that his mother rested in the Fields of Elysium, along with his father, far away from the icy reaches of the Cocyctus, and so was dejected for the ride to the last river. He had wished, perhaps, to call her name, see her recognition at his face, see how much he had grown to resemble his father: small things. But the paths of the dead and the living do not cross, not even in the outer worlds. And so, he walked on, reaching the last of the five great rivers, the Lethe, the river of forgeting."

He was never one for cowardice, but he could understand why some people might want to forget everything that had happened to them, that longing for the comfort of a blank slate. He was weary, that was it, had been for all these years. The rage and grief of his parents' deaths had passed, and something in him was yearning to shake off the heavy weight the past had placed on him and return to happier days, times when all that had mattered was the safety of the house and his family's honor.

And thus passes the last of the Suwa Dragons, he mused to himself.

Somehow, it didn't seem as bad as it could have been. He hadn't died in combat, as his mother had feared, and he hadn't died of old age, sick on a cot somewhere. It wasn't even a death he was going towards, only a death of self. His goals would still be accomplished: even though he had failed, the kid would surely take down Fei Wong and his parents would be avenged. Swordplay and speed could always be relearnt, if he felt drawn to them after this.

He smiled, not one of his manic grins, nor taunting gibes, but a sad smile, something perhaps more at home of the face of the mage than here. However, it was different in that it was one of resolution, the look of one who knows he has already lost everything and goes, with unfaltering courage, with true steel and straight blade, out to meet his destiny.

Tracing a finger in the snow, he wondered if he'd leave any mark behind him.

Still mulling that thought over, he walked on, ever closer to the final shore.

--

Sakura closed the book, tears in her eyes.

"It's not true, Kurogane-san!" She whispered. "It's not true! You don't have to lose all your memories to get out of there, I know it! Of all the worst things to happen to a person, not knowing whether you're looking at someone you care about or whether you're still holding up to promises you made before you forgot-- it's not something I'd wish on anyone!"

She sobbed softly, head lying on the pages as the tears trickled down, not sure if she wanted to read what happened next.

But, if there was something that Sakura knew, it was that, even without memories, the only way to get anything out of life or journeys was simply to keep going, even if it meant slogging through the nasty parts, or having to do things you didn't want to. You went through with hardships and difficult undertakings because you knew that somewhere after it was through, there would be an end waiting, a reprieve from all the trials you had to endure.

And that is why, swallowing another bout of sorrow, she allowed her eyes to refocus and continued to read.

"The man come upon the last river and found himself quite alone, as anyone who comes to that river will find themselves after a long journey to it. The Lethe rose up to meet him, its cerulean water lapping gently at the shores, a light, silver mist dancing above it. To the casual onlooker, it seemed too small to be a thing of much consequence, hardly more intimidating than a creek running through an untouched wood."

He bent down the the water, seeing himself reflected, but not as he was. The Kurogane that stared back at him was different than the one he had always known and always been: gone were the fiery eyes, replaced with coal black ones that showed no spark of life; his arms were sore and sluggish; and when he tried to twist his mouth into a fearless, reckless grin, the contortion of his altered features repulsed him.

The last ferryman's words had been true: there was no guide to meet him here, no one save for the burbling of the brook that claimed to erase everything.

No, don't! Something shouted in the distance. You must listen!

He cupped his hands and dipped them in the water, lost in examining the rivulets running through his hands. How was it that something so small could take so much?

Don't do it! Please, you mustn't!

What was there not to do? He was through, washed up.

Just as he had raised his cupped hands to his lips, the world fell out from under him, and he was, oddly enough, back in the Recort library, with something warm on top of him.

An enemy?

He flipped the attacker off of him, pinned it to the table, and had his hand on Sohi's hilt before he recognized who it was.

"Sakura?"

She blushed at informality as he hastily scooted away, dusted himself off and hoped she hadn't caught his infraction. He steered conversation away from that as soon as possible.

"You saw everything, then?" Damn it all, this library was hell-bent on rehashing all his old memories for each and every member of his team to see, wasn't it? Next thing he knew, Fai would be the one traipsing along unknowingly, all of a sudden whisked into one more rerun of "Kurogane's Happy and Then Not-So-Happy Childhood."

Maybe libraries were just out to get him. Kurogane shifted uneasily. Man, he must have pissed off some librarian somewhere to have been put through all that.

Sakura nodded slowly, then her eyes began to water.

Completely unfamiliar with the ways of comforting a weeping maiden (honestly, how many times did he come across those in his work? Next to none), he awkwardly pulled her into an embrace, hoping the tears would stop.

"I didn't want you to give everything up, Kurogane-san! No one understands what it's like not having anything to fall back on, or knowing where I've come from or who I've known or been, or anything! I have snatches of memories, but those hardly even connect most of the time!"

He patted her back gently, soothingly. He wasn't a really good soother, given his predilection to go off killing things, but he tried. "I could have been someone to understand. You could have let me do it, but you didn't. I would have drunk the water if your voice hadn't called out to me."

She started. "Y-you heard? I thought I was..."

Taking a strand of her hair and raising to his lips, as he'd seen done time and time again in a place far from here and long ago, he met her eyes straight on, unflinching, before breaking contact.

"So why did you come here, anyway? I thought that idiot mage kept stricter hours for you two than this." He gestured at a clock hanging on a wall. Sakura gasped, frenzied.

"Oh no! I was just coming by to bring you dinner because you hadn't come back for any, and then I got caught up reading that book!" She put her hands to her mouth. "Fai-san will be worried sick!" She was about to race out when he caught her arm.

"Hey. Let him worry. There are some things I need to talk to you about." His eyes were serious, knowing that the events of the evening would bear explanation.

Sakura stopped, caught halfway between speeding off to allay Fai's fears and sitting down to listen to Kurogane's tale. Deciding that the latter was more important, she returned to the table, and, as Kurogane sifted through the cheese and sourdough, spent the night listening to another story about him. It wasn't pretty, or neatly wrapped up like so many childhoods were, but hearing it coming from his voice was comforting.

When he'd finished his tale, Sakura took a moment to think before postulating somewhat excitedly:

"Kurogane-san, this is amazing! We're both royalty. Only you never were able to claim your title and I've forgotten all about mine."

He arched a brow at this. True, he was the son of one of Nihon's lords, sworn protectors of the country and loyal to the royal house. Pledging himself to Tomoyo-hime as her guard hadn't changed that fact. The Dragons of Suwa had fallen, but like the water they were connected with, they kept going steadily on, no matter what.

He shrugged. "I suppose so."

The rest of the night passed with Sakura begging to hear more about his childhood, training, what life in the palace was like as a guard, and somewhat reservedly, at first, he told her. As the candles dimmed and were eventually extinguished, they sat still there talking, the book safely closed on the desk.

It was just as well that Sakura hadn't gone back to the inn that night. Fai had made friends with the local vinter while she was out, and his extraordinary charisma had earnt him three bottles of wine that he put to excellent use celebrating the team's discoveries. And to no one's surprise, Syaoran had a terrible headache in the morning.