Phew, sorry for the long absence, folks. Life's been busy and hectic. But with the new year comes new inspiration. The challenge of this story is the fact that the Japanese tend to be a lot more reserved and private about issues between others. So I had to restrain my usually very-open writing in order to keep with CLAMP's style, and the general Japanese flavor.

And then, I had to blow that outta the water on purpose. ;) Of course it was a reserved, controlled explosion, but still, I took care to make it shocking on a Japanese social level, while still keeping the reins tight. I hope I managed that at least; it was my intention.

(Heh... With my "Lost ___" naming theme here, I could have quite easily put in another word there pertaining to a certain event... but that would be silly and this is meant to be serious, so... I won't. ;P )

I apologize if this one's not as interesting as one might hope. The next one will be where things take a big turn. Hopefully I'll get to it faster than I did this one. Thanks for so many encouraging reviews and comments, folks. I'm very glad that you enjoy this story, and will do my best to keep bringing it to you. Enjooooy!

Chapitre 125.3 – Lost Silence

The food was universally agreeable with everyone present, with Kurogane the only one taking a bit to adjust to using a fork on rice.

"Mmmm, this is delicious!" Mokona happily exclaimed, "I'll definitely be getting seconds!"

"It really is great," Syaoran said with a warm grin, looking between the two chefs, "And even just having a home-cooked meal to come home to is wonderful."

They both lowered their heads and eyes modestly while answering, "Thank you." Then they looked at each other and shared a small chuckle-and-grin at the coincidence.

Then Fai looked furtively at Kurogane, having felt his eyes sharply upon him. The tall man's ever-direct gaze seemed to be analyzing him. The mahogany eyes quickly closed and he grudgingly said, "Yeah, it's not bad I guess," and he promptly filled his mouth with another heaping bite of stew.

Fai was trying his best to eat at a normal pace, savoring the taste of the food, but it was taking every ounce of his will-power to avoid shoveling it all in frenetically. He was hungry, so hungry...

"So... how has the job been so far?" Sakura asked anyone who would answer.

"It sucks," Kurogane slid out, eager to release his frustration, "It's boring, repetitive, an' people around here don't have any patience at all."

"Heh, it does take quite a bit of patience to counteract it all," Syaoran added in with a rueful grin, "But at least it's a break from danger, and has been enough to pay for what we need, so it could have been worse. Although learning to work the register and computer have been quite a challenge."

Meanwhile, Fai was now eating far more rapidly than he had meant to allow himself to. Everyone slid their eyes over, noticing, but politely saying nothing about it.

"Umm," Sakura said, "Wow... It would be nice if I could help. It's still really hard to stay on my feet for very long... But if I get just a little better, I wouldn't mind helping out."

"Ooooh, not yet," Mokona exclaimed, waving Mokona's stubby little arms around and shaking Mokona's head vigorously, "Sakura should see everyone! Running around and around and around and around! Cooking and cleaning and pushing buttons BEEP BEEP BEEP!!! Sakura would get tired in one minute! Mokona gets exhausted just from watching!"

"Heh, oh, is that so?" she said with a small chuckle, and a small sigh.

The mage had already finished his seconds, and was working on a third serving. He was beginning to look ill, as if being forced at gun-point to eat beyond his capacity. Kurogane was eying him critically.

Mokona continued speaking adamantly. "Everyone has to hurry hurry hurry! People want their food right now now now! And so much grease in the air! Mokona will need five baths to wash it all out!"

Fai seemed to be wilting, his face pale with nausea. He could no longer bring himself to chew his food, his stomach unable to contain any more. Yet even with saliva-soaked rice in his mouth, he was slowly lifting another fork-full...

Kurogane stood and slammed his hands on the tabletop, his chair toppling to the floor. Everyone's dishes clattered, and the children and Mokona jumped with startled yelps. Fai froze, then looked up. Kurogane's eyes were boring straight into him, narrowed, full of equal amounts of frustration, anger... and guilt.

"You've had enough, mage," he said intoned in a rough but quiet growl.

Fai lowered his head so that his hair covered his eye. Then his mouth forced a small smile. "No..." he said quietly, "I haven't." Something in him wanted to spite Kurogane further, so he began raising the utensil to his mouth again.

The ninja struck like black lightning, instantly kneeling on the table and grabbing the wizard's wrist. He used his thumb to activate a pressure-point in the wrist, causing the utensil to fall back onto the nearly-empty plate. The young-bodied old man looked up at Kurogane in shock.

"I've had enough too," he growled.

Fai smirked, his brow narrowed. "Have you, now?" He leaned in close to Kurogane's face, acidly whispering, "Well, we can't always get what we want, can we?"

The young ones were shocked, silent, at this open display of bitterness. Usually, after Tokyo, both men had been reserved, polite at best and cold at worst. For them to lose control in the open like this was, despite their eventful lives, difficult to fathom.

It was Mokona who broke the tense silence. Mokona waddled close to Fai and looked up at him, quietly saying, "We don't want Fai to be sick..."

The wizard was quietly taken aback, looking at the little creature with his mouth slightly open, then glancing at the children. They slowly looked back up at him, nodding once each. Fai lowered his head... then covered his mouth and wordlessly vacated the dining area, sliding out down the hall and around the corner.

Kurogane sighed, and slowly backed up until he was standing on the floor again. "Sorry about that," he muttered, picking up his chair and setting it back at the table. He wanted to explain his actions, but decided against it; it would only bring more attention to an ugly issue. He walked out of the room, hands in his pockets.

Sakura looked at Syaoran, concerned. "...Fai-san's not drinking blood at all, is he?" she asked.

Syaoran was a bit startled at her directness... but this was Sakura, after all, even if she was so different after the events at Tokyo. He lowered his head, brow creased. "It seems that way... But I heard the deal that was made... There's nothing Kurogane-san can do to force him to."

Sakura lowered her head. "But... couldn't we--"

"Sakura-hime... Please excuse my manner of speaking, but... They're men. Warriors. This is an issue between the two of them. We have to give them their space and let them work it out."

She sighed, then nodded. "You're right... but if it goes on much longer, I'll have something to say, regardless. Because after all..." She looked at Syaoran sincerely, "They're also our friends."

Syaoran blinked, then lowered his head once more, expression pained at the many ways that phrase echoed through his being. "...Yeah..."

Fai panted and spat a few more times, shoulders heaving, as he held onto the toilet for support. He had hoped to only vomit the excess, but cruel reflex had forced him to lose all of the previously delicious dinner in ugly throes.

"You done wasting food?" the deep voice of Kurogane asked in a somehow non-sarcastic tone.

Fai's face whirled to face him, his eye narrowed and flashing gold for a moment, lips curled in an actual snarl. He was still shaking from the bodily trauma of throwing up. "Are you enjoying this?" he croaked bitterly.

"Not at all," Kurogane answered, eyes narrowing a bit more, arms crossed as they often were, leaning against the bathroom doorway. "Why else would I have tried to make you stop? You're drawing this shit out, and it's impossible to keep it quiet anymore."

Fai blinked, then turned his head away and down, closing his eyes, still bitter but now in smiling form. "...Yes... I guess I'm pitiful... Good. Ugly like this, repulsive, nobody will get too close anymore..."

Kurogane gripped the cloth of his black short sleeves, jaw tightening. It took all he had not to clobber some sense into the mage. "...You don't want to live, I get that," he growled, "But you said before that you can't go dying either. Does that mean anything to you anymore, whatever that reason is?"

Fai flushed the toilet, watching the water carry away what could not fulfill him. As it refilled the bowl, clear and clean, he remembered Ashura-ou, and the other, both also in water, both in waiting...

He had his orders. He had his wish. But were they worth what he was up against? It was difficult to believe that. He had been wavering in his previous certainty. And now he was expected to choose from various sorts of doom.

"...I don't know," he said quietly.

"You don't want others to get hurt from being around you," Kurogane observed, "That's selfish an' selfless at the same time, you know that?" He uncrossed his arms and stood squarely in the doorway, nearly taking up the whole opening. "The choice I made was the same. Not that I'm glorifying any of it. I knew this would suck. But I knew that the kids couldn't take losing you. You would have done anything to save them, right?"

Fai was silent, his reflection showing a bit of reluctant agreement and revelation. But he dared not agree with Kurogane.

"Well, this was the same," the dark man concluded. "Hate me all you want. But think of the others too. If you're so hellbent on preserving 'em."

"...I wasn't supposed to--"

"There you go again. Well, I've got some news for ya, magician... They're close to ya whether you were supposed to let 'em or not. An' you can't do a damn thing to change that without hurting them now." He put his hands in his pockets again, and turned sideways in the door-frame. "I'll be in my room for a while. Make up your damned mind already."

He walked away, leaving Fai still sitting on the cold tile floor.

Slowly, the pale man pulled himself to his feet while hanging onto the sink. He gazed at his reflection. He truly was more pale than ever, his cheekbones jutting slightly, his eye developing a dark circle under it. This, he closed, lowering his head.

"Make up my mind, huh?" he whispered, "...Has it ever been mine to make up in the first place?"