Spoilers: the whole of TRC - is there anyone who hasn't read the entire series yet?
Warnings: if you're picky about a story adhering closely to canon - this is not one of those. I hereby mash canon into applesauce.

Notes: This was inspired by SM Reine's concept of kopis and aspis (Descent series), that is, sword and shield, in which one is a warrior and the other is a witch. Also featuring lots of family stuff, Fai helping Sakura deal with her period, Mokona unable to store anything, and KuroFai.

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and its characters do not belong to me.

the sword to my shield

(Part 1)

"Why the hell are you following me?" Kurogane snapped. He hefted his sheathed sword and jerked his head to the side, glowering at the willowy twig of a mage lagging two steps behind.

Fai shrugged, smiled his inane smile, loping easily on the smooth concrete sidewalk. "Why shouldn't I follow you, Kuro-puu?"

"Because," he snapped again, "You won't fight to save your life. And you won't use your goddamn magic, so I don't see how you're doing anything worthwhile by following me."

In this world so like Outo, they had to work, and pair up in groups of two to earn their keep. Syaoran was Kurogane's choice partner by default; the boy had taken ill ever since they arrived in Nagare, however, and the princess had stayed behind to care for him. It wasn't as if he would be much help attempting to fight when he couldn't even see straight.

Which left the idiot as Kurogane's last resort.

(The robot-like lady at the sparkling marble town hall had very helpfully mentioned that, No, he couldn't fight alone. All fighting teams had to comprise of a Sword and a Shield.)

"Ow, that hurt, Kuro-tan," the blond sang, pulling a face. He pressed a thin hand to his chest. "Saying things like that isn't nice, you know."

Kurogane glowered. "Are you going to wield magic, then?"

Fai smiled obliquely, glanced away. "Well," he replied, twirling on tiptoes down the sidewalk, as they passed two-storied brick homes that seemed to be all around, with their shale-tiled roofs and square white windows, and neatly-trimmed hedges that separated them from one another. "I don't know, this world isn't so great for my magic, you know—"

"Don't give me that crap," Kurogane cut him off. "That woman said a magic-user is most effective as a Shield."

"But she didn't mention how using magic here would hurt, would it?" the mage countered deftly. He twirled away again.

Lies and more lies. Kurogane growled.

"Just as well that I don't need to rely on you for protection," he muttered. It was something he'd already decided anyway—he wasn't Tomoyo's best warrior for no reason.

Fai didn't show any sign of having heard him. They moved along, each lost in his own thoughts.

When the first attack descended, it was brutal and ruthless.

Kurogane sensed more than heard it—thin lines of black streaking towards them, deadly in their aim, and never-ending. He flung himself to the side, barely avoiding lethal hits, and the weave of his clothes sizzled.

But the barrage did not stop there. More arrows whistled at him; he rolled onto his feet and leaped backwards, unsheathed Souhi in a hiss of metal. This was nothing he was unfamiliar with—adrenaline pumped hard and fast in his veins. He grinned, senses reaching out for the next attack.

To his surprise, the black did not fade away upon contact with cement and asphalt. Instead, the arrows smeared across the pavement in a way similar to putty, and pulled away from the ground immediately after, like shadows pinched from an inkblot into reality. When they flew back at him, they were faster than before.

Kurogane swore, flung himself to the side, and rolled away from yet more arrows coming at him from above. Gut instinct warned him against having Souhi make contact with the tar-like projectiles—this limited his moves to energy-charged attacks, and he hadn't wanted to show his hand so soon after arriving in this new world.

"Hyuu, Kuro-sama's doing great over there!" Fai called, waving both his arms in the air. There hadn't really been time during the onslaught to care how the mage was faring. Which was just as well, since he was still in one piece.

"Don't just stand there, you slacker!" Kurogane shouted. He wasn't even going to comment on those ludicrous gestures.

Between dodging the tar arrows, he scanned the too-bright sky for signs of their assailant. It was difficult to discern anything, especially when the cloaked figure launching the arrows was standing with its back to the sun.

But that suddenly became the least of his concerns, because the arrows developed a mind of their own.

They were all hurtling towards Fai.

And he was just standing there, staring at all of them.

"Fucking mage," Kurogane roared. He bounded towards the other man, swinging his sword in a wide arc. "Hama ryuu-ou jin!"

Fai seemed to regain his mind and senses in that moment, when the whirling attack rushed at him and decimated the army of tar arrows. He leaped upwards easily—a split second before the cutting winds landed where he had been.

"Grow some fucking balls!" Kurogane seethed, following hot on the heels of his attack to adopt a position between Fai and the figure on the roof. Just who or what was their opponent?

"Wai!" Fai clapped appreciatively behind him. "Kuro-wan to the rescue!"

"You're a fucking embarrassment of a Shield," the ninja grit. "If it weren't for how much the kids like you, I would've killed you already."

The applause ground to a stop at those words; the man fell silent.

"If you're a mage at all, at least do something instead of standing there, for fuck's sake," Kurogane continued. "We're here to do a job, not fucking slack off."

"It isn't good for me to use magic," Fai said quietly behind him, in a tone he'd never used before. (Was that some shred of honesty?)

"Well, too bad," he retorted. The air was muggy and thick around them, oppressive, and the occupants of the brick buildings (if there were any) were making themselves scarce. "I don't care about what's good for you or not. You refuse to lift a finger to help, and that's stupid selfish."

Fai remained silent.

There was a final attack, albeit a half-hearted one. Kurogane shredded the arrows with a sweeping counter; by the time the winds died down, the figure against the sun had disappeared, and all was quiet around them.

"Damn it," Kurogane muttered, "Nothing goes right around here."

The blond had started to walk away from the scene, hands linked behind his head, a mild expression pasted across his face. "Kuro-chii is so very sensitive, isn't he?"

"You can't fool me, mage," Kurogane growled, stalking forward to catch up with his cripple of a partner. He'd long decided that there was no point in trying to get the twit to address him by his proper name. "You're more than capable of casting the spells that a Shield is supposed to, I know it. If you know how to send yourself to that witch, then you damn well know how to draw up a defense."

"Ooh, Kuro-rin knows so much about magic!" Fai tittered. Something had flashed across his eyes, something dark and reeking of old pain, and Kurogane felt a surge of triumph at breaking through that stupid facade.

He could be merciless if he wanted to.

"It has to do with your magic," he pressed. "Hence your desperation to play it down. Your magic has hurt you before."

Fai stopped walking, in the middle of cozy brick homes.

Kurogane drew to a halt, turned to faced him. "I'm right, aren't I."

Sapphire eyes glinted. The smile had frozen on the blond's face, and he was standing very still. An instant later, he'd made his mind up. "We should be hunting for demons, shouldn't we?" he asked with false cheer. "The children are waiting for us back at the house."

It was enough of a reason for them to keep walking.

"Your entire attempt to make us think you don't do much magic," Kurogane began ten paces later, "Is to prevent us from relying on you. You're trying to distance yourself from everybody."

There was that flicker again, through impossibly blue eyes.

He decided to push harder. "Whomever you hurt with your magic, mage, it was a disaster."

Fai gulped; his stride faltered. He glanced away, towards the apple trees in someone's backyard. "Why are you doing this, Kuro-tan?"

"You think we can't see through your lies." Kurogane cut a look towards him, suppressing a sudden, inexplicable urge to grab the man by his arm, by his chin, to make him meet his stare. "You reek of untruths."

"And you absolutely loathe people like me," the blond answered quietly. He lowered his gaze to the sidewalk. "Why even bother, Kuro-sama?"

"Because." It was the beginning of a tirade, and he paused. There were two paths he could take from here: to leave the man well alone, or to find out just how thoroughly the mask could be broken (and whether he could break). Kurogane chose the latter. "You treat your life like it's worthless—"

Fai parted his lips, on the verge of saying something, but no sound issued forth.

"Like you don't know there'll be people affected if you died." Kurogane scrutinized him. "Or maybe you do, but you choose to run away. You're a fucking coward, is what you are."

A dry smile. "I didn't deny being one, did I?"

Something snapped in him; cannonballs of anger flared hot through his gut. He clenched his fists. "There were people who must've died for you." (Fai flinched.) "Yet all you want to do is throw your damn life away. Don't their sacrifices mean anything to you?"

"Stop it, Kuro-chan," Fai mumbled, dipping his chin so his hair fell forward, hiding his face. "This has nothing to do with you."

"This has everything to do with me if you're planning to drop out of this journey and leave the kids alone with me," Kurogane spat. (Because deep down, he really didn't want to deal with the too-sincere boy and the princess who was warm and kind. Fai was the one who got along with them. Kurogane was rubbish with kids.)

"Oh?" The mage perked up then, his smile edged with desperation, and Kurogane wanted to grab his head and tear that grin off. "Will Kuro-rin be sad if I died?"

"Whether you die or not doesn't matter to me," he groused. How the hell had the confrontation turned into this? "But I'll be damned if you chose to die for some stupid fucking reason—"

"Do you think we should have cake for dessert tonight?" Fai had started walking again, completely ignoring Kurogane. "I think I saw apples on sale when we passed the market—"

In two steps, Kurogane had caught up with him and grabbed his skinny arm, spinning him violently around with hardly any effort. Wide blue eyes flickered to meet his. "If you think for a moment," he breathed, lowering his face so it was inches from the blond's, "That you can avoid talking about the crap you're running from, mage, you're even more of an idiot than I thought you were."

Fai blinked. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Why, I—"

"Learn to pull your weight," Kurogane barked, tightening his grip so the other man winced. "I don't care about your past—"

"Then why are you asking all this?" A thin line formed between slender golden brows; Fai stared at him.

"Why I mentioned your magic?" Kurogane said slowly, deliberately. "Just how powerful it is, and the people you've hurt with it?" (The blue gaze skittered away.) "Are you so afraid of using it because you're afraid it'd hurt more people? Or because it'll allow your past to catch up with you?"

Fai inhaled sharply. The answer was there, in that breath. "Let me go, Kuro-wan."

Kurogane relented then; he wasn't a bully. But the discussion wasn't over, not by a long shot, and especially not if he was still going to have to fight for both himself and the mage. "This isn't over yet," he muttered, "I'm still watching you."

"I know." Fai rubbed at his arm, where Kurogane's fingers had left angry red marks. He made a face, wore a pout like one would wear a hat. "You should treat others better, Kuro-pipi. That hurt."

Short of yelling and calling the idiot out on his stupidity all over again, there was little else that Kurogane felt inclined to say. He grunted and brushed past the man. "Whatever. We have work to do."

The princess was fidgeting by Syaoran's side when they returned late that night.

Fai, as he always did, saw this as an opportunity to flee from the ninja, hurrying across the bedroom with a smile and wave. "Good evening, Sakura-chan!" he called, "How are things with you and Syaoran-kun?"

Her brow furrowed; the wrinkle was deeply shadowed in the orange glow of the bedside lamp, and Fai couldn't help feeling a little twinge of concern.

"Syaoran is sleeping, but, Fai-san..." she trailed off, looking helplessly around the room. (He noticed then that their other companion was missing.) "Moko-chan, she... she fell ill too."

(It had been established early on that there wasn't a feather in this world, but Syaoran had fallen ill right after they landed, and they'd decided to stop for however long they could here so he could recuperate. Who knew what the next world would be like?)

"What happened to her?" he asked warily. If both Mokona and Syaoran were down for the count, then he only had Sakura left as buffer against the big, growling thing that was Kurogane. And he wasn't going to think about that. "How can Mokona even fall ill?"

There had to have been a strong magical influence, to disrupt something as magic-infused as their fluffy white friend. Yet, it hadn't been powerful enough that Fai could sense it when he and Kuro-rin were out hunting.

"I don't know." The princess swallowed. She glanced at the far wall, which demarcated the other bedroom, and wrung her hands. "She said the magic here felt funny."

Kurogane made a strangled sort of noise by the doorway; Fai pretended not to hear it. "Was there anything that helped make her feel better?"

Sakura shook her head jerkily. It worried Fai, this uncharacteristic restlessness—the girl looked a little paler than usual.

"Sakura-chan, are you feeling okay yourself?" he asked, kneeling down beside her and laying a hand on her folded ones. Her fingers were cold. What had happened while he and Kurogane were out?

She pulled a face. "I'll be fine. But you should take a look at Moko-chan, Fai-san, we can't really move from this place..."

There was a splotch of crimson on her skirts when she rose from her seat. An injury? No. The girl didn't look to be in pain. The bleeding that women routinely underwent? Maybe. Blood on Sakura jarred his nerves nevertheless, and Fai smoothed his features into a concerned smile. He stood, touched his fingers to her shoulder; she paused, looked back at him in question. "Sakura-chan, your skirt..."

She knew to glance downwards, and gasped in dismay when she saw the stain. "I— This is really all my fault... I asked Moko-chan if she had some rags in storage, and she— Oh, Fai-san, it's horrible!"

"Shh, it'll be fine." (Things would be fine when they didn't concern him.) Fai took her hand and smiled comfortingly so the tightness in her face eased, before leading her towards the doorway, where Kurogane had been watching the proceedings with a frown. "Would you like to go to the bathroom first—"

"No, that can wait," the princess decided, taking a deep breath. She glanced at Syaoran; the boy was sound asleep. "Fai-san, you have to look at Moko-chan, I can't explain why she did that..."

He followed her to the next room, leaving a wide berth between himself and Kurogane, who had backed off from the doorway to allow them passage.

The other bedroom was a mess.

Where the first bedroom had been sparsely furnished, with furniture like twin beds, tables and chairs taking up some space, this second bedroom was crammed with all sorts of things—notably, things from their travels that they had been accumulating.

Clothes of all designs were strewn everywhere, on books and preserved food and jewelry and precious stones—things they had found to be valuable in previous worlds, that could possibly be sold for currency in the next world. There was some shattered crockery around, and Kurogane's manganyan were flung to the corners of the room. Closer to the doorway, things had been neatly piled up, as if someone had tried to tidy the mess, and given up midway.

Fai winced, stepping into the bedroom. "Mokona?" he called softly, nudging things aside with his feet. "Where are you?"

A little muffled whimper sounded from the bed.

"I tucked her in," Sakura explained desolately. The green of her eyes was oddly dull. Fai rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "She wanted to be in this room in case there were more things coming out."

Fai winced—it had to have been lonely for the chatty little creature, surrounded by all sorts of inanimate things in a too-big room. "Let's get you out of here, Mokona."

Slowly, he waded the short distance to the bed, around musical instruments and a stork-like lamp, with the princess following close behind.

"Fai!" Mokona cried the moment he straightened a leaning pile of books and rounded it, so there was nothing else between him and the bed. "Mokona feels terrible!"

He made a face and gathered the little creature into his arms, holding her close. "Are you feeling better than before?"

She nodded into his chest. "There was a strange magical wave that passed through a while after you and Kuro-pon left. Mokona felt like throwing up, so Mokona ran in here."

"There, there," he consoled, "You'll feel better with the rest of us around, won't you? Sakura-chan has been really worried about you all day."

At the mention of the princess, the creature turned to look at Sakura. "I'm sorry, Sakura, I couldn't find any rags."

The girl lifted her hands towards Mokona; Fai handed her over, watching fondly as the princess cradled their companion against her chest. "It's fine, Moko-chan. Don't worry about it—I'm sorry for making you reject all the things you've stored—"

"It's just bad timing, Sakura-chan," Fai interrupted. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her back out towards the door. "Don't blame yourself either, okay?"

She looked uncertainly at him.

"But Sakura needs the rags, doesn't she?" Mokona asked in a subdued voice.

"We'll go out and get some," Fai told them simply. "As soon as you're ready."

"But the shops are closed now, aren't they?" Sakura pointed out, frowning again. "We can wait until tomorrow—"

"If it'll help you feel more comfortable, Sakura-chan, we should do that as soon as we can, shouldn't we?" he smiled at her again, watched as the uncertainty melted away from her face. "We'll let Kuro-daddy take care of Mokona and Syaoran-kun."

"Don't call me that!" Kurogane snapped from the doorway.

Fai blinked; he'd almost forgotten that the ninja was close enough to listen in on their conversation. It didn't matter, though. He allowed his eyes to slip shut, and smiled stupidly at the larger man. "Is Kuro-puppy volunteering to stay home like a good daddy?"

Scarlet eyes flashed; Fai pressed closer to Sakura. Kurogane wouldn't attempt to hurt him while he was standing with the princess; that much he was certain of.

"Anyway, most places are closed at this time, idiot," the ninja muttered. He raked Fai over with that too-piercing gaze. "Let the princess sleep - you can head out early tomorrow that way."

Fai looked to Sakura for her opinion. She considered Kurogane's suggestion, then nodded. "Kurogane-san is right," she said softly. "Besides, both of you are tired. I can manage for another day or two."

Looking at the princess filled his ribs with something akin to pride and warmth; Fai smiled at her and ruffled her hair. "Then we'll head out first thing tomorrow," he told her quietly. "But no later than that! We can't have you waiting, right?"

She grinned at him, eyes lit with gratitude. "Thank you, Fai-san."

It was a good day when he could concern himself with the troubles of others, instead of his own.

As fate would have it, there was a burglary attempt on their lodgings in the middle of the night.

Kurogane had been the first awake, ninja that he was; Fai stirred soon after. (They had both been dozing lightly in the hallway.) By then, Syaoran had sat up blearily in his bed amidst the noise, trying (without much success) to discern the source of the commotion. With Kurogane distracted in the cluttered bedroom, the onus had fallen on Fai to dissuade Syaoran from joining in the fray—Kuro-daddy had got it covered. (Syaoran returned to sleep very much reluctantly.)

Thus, it was a while later that Fai joined Kurogane in the mess of a bedroom, two windows broken and no thugs in the house.

"It's all the damn things we've got in here," the larger man muttered, crimson eyes flicking about the room. "Valuables shouldn't be stored in plain sight."

"So we should draw the curtains shut, shouldn't we?" Fai smiled. He picked his way through the chaos of things strewn across the room, clicking his tongue at the shards of glass on the hardwood floor. "Kuro-rin, get me the broom and dustpan."

"You can do that yourself, idiot," Kurogane bristled. He turned on his heels, ready to stalk back out of the room.

"Ah, but Kuro-tan is the one who broke some of the things in here," Fai informed him reprovingly. "And we don't want the children to hurt themselves walking on glass."

That, if nothing else, swayed the man. With an irate grumble, Kurogane stormed off, and returned (some bumps and crashes later) with the requested implements.

Fai flitted across the room for them. "What a good doggy," he praised, taking the broom and dustpan before petting the other man on the head. "I always knew that Kuro-chi was the most responsible family man—"

He skipped promptly away to avoid an annoyed swat to his head. Really, the mess in this room should be tidied before anything else got broken.

"Kuro-sama, stack up those things by the door, if you please," Fai sang. He set the broom and dustpan aside, and bent over to carefully pick the scattered belongings off the floor. (It was much easier to tidy up when things were out of the way.)

Silence rang from the direction of the door. Curious, he turned, with his hands full of folded wooden fans—and spotted Kurogane whipping his gaze away, to the other corner of the bedroom. Red crept up the olive skin of his neck.

Oh?

Fai raised an eyebrow, said nothing.

For a few minutes, he focused on moving things away from the broken glass. Perhaps this misfortune was a blessing in disguise—tidying this mess would force them to take stock of their entire inventory, which had become a jumbled collection over the various worlds they'd visited. Of their little traveling group, Syaoran would probably have the most interest in cataloging their entire hoard—the boy was a born librarian.

"Kuro-rin," he began, "If Syaoran-kun wakes up late in the morning and Sakura-chan and I aren't around..."

Kurogane was staring at him. Again.

"What is it?" Fai straightened with a frown, vaguely uneasy. Was Mr Big Growly about to launch into another tirade? Or was he looking at some clump of dirt on Fai's pants?

The larger man glanced away, clicked his tongue. Was he annoyed at himself? "You should have a solution to prevent burglaries. You're a mage."

"What does magic have to do with any of this?" Fai asked, tilting his head to the side. "Surely you, with your big sword, are a more effective deterrent, Kuro-pon."

"I'm not always going to be in this house, and neither are you," Kurogane pointed out. He folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the doorjamb. "With the kid and the pork bun sick in bed, the princess ain't gonna be able to defend this place by herself."

He was right. It was a worrying thought, but Fai wasn't going to let the other man know just how much it affected him.

"Well then," he said with false cheer, waving dismissively. "We'll just ask Yuuko-san for a solution."

"You're a fucking mage," Kurogane hissed, brow creased. Crimson eyes punched holes right through him. Fai really did not like how Kuro-rin was the one person who kept doing that. "And you're supposed to be a damn Shield in this world. Surely it isn't that difficult to create some stupid wards for the house."

"It's not that easy, you know." (Not easy to circumvent using his magic, but possible.)

There was enough space beneath the first window for the floor to be swept, now. Fai grabbed the broom and dustpan, clearing the redwood floor with smooth efficiency.

Kurogane narrowed his eyes. "The Tsukuyomi in Nihon maintains wards over the entire country. This is just one building, idiot. The magical energy required to set up a ward here is negligible."

Negligible, but still a risk. Any drop of his magic that was left in a world could be a beacon to Ashura-ou—something Fai would really rather not consider.

"I'm sure Yuuko-san has an answer to this," he informed the ninja lightly, drawing curtains over the window before heading over to the next patch of broken glass. There were some fragile porcelain dolls that had been smashed along with the window panes. Fai made a face; those had not been easy to acquire. "Fix the windows when you can, Kuro-rin. The landlord will charge us more if he sees that the windows are broken."

"They wouldn't be broken if you'd set some damn wards up in the first place!" Kurogane returned irritably. "You should be the one to repair—"

"But you have more experience with fixing things, don't you?" Fai angled a brilliant grin at the man. "You made Chu'nyan's roof all good again when we were in Koryo."

The larger man bristled. "Acquire the materials first, then."

"I knew Kuro-daddy would do it!" Fai lilted, flapping his hands about. "Kuro-tan is so capable and strong!"

Kurogane snorted and stalked away in disgust; Fai relaxed his arms, waiting until the ninja's soft footfalls faded away down the stairs before he allowed his cheerfulness to fall away. The dimension witch had a way of asking questions that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

All the same, if she had something to keep the children safe while he and Kurogane were out hunting...

In silence, Fai cleared the shards away from the second window, drawing the curtains when he was done. The glass pieces tinkled into the trash can; Fai set the broom and dustpan down by the doorway, and padded softly into the room the kids were sharing with Mokona.

The little creature stirred when he picked her up carefully from Syaoran's side. Fai stroked Mokona's round head to reassure her, headed just as soundlessly back into the other bedroom. As a precaution, he glanced down the hallway, and shut the door behind himself.

"Mokona?" he whispered with a gentle smile, after he'd seated himself on the bed and crossed his legs. She rolled over in his cupped hands, squinting up at him. "If you're feeling well enough, I'd like to talk to Yuuko-san."

Mokona nodded; the red gem on her forehead glowed, and the dimension witch turned to look at him in her circular projection.

"Yuuko," Mokona greeted tiredly, "Mokona isn't feeling well."

"Is that so?" Yuuko frowned, leaning a little closer. She was dressed in an intricate yukata that Fai hadn't seen on her before. "Go to sleep, Mokona, I'll talk to Fai if you leave the communication link open."

The fluff-ball nodded and curled up; Yuuko trained her hooded eyes on him, deceptively lethargic.

"How are things there, Fai?" she asked, looking between him and her creation.

"Yuuko-san," he acknowledged, smiling politely. "My apologies for bothering you—we're in the country Nagare. It's kind of like Outo country, where we hunt demons to make a living. Both Syaoran-kun and Mokona have taken ill though. Syaoran first, and Mokona just earlier today. I suspect the cause to be magical interference of some sort, at least for Mokona. Kuro-pon, Sakura-chan and I are doing well, however."

She nodded. "Mokona will recover soon enough. And your request?"

"Well..." He hesitated. "Because Syaoran-kun isn't feeling well, Kuro-pin and I are the only ones working. Sakura-chan stays home to care for Syaoran-kun, but now that Mokona isn't able to contain our possessions, we've been concerned about the threat of attacks on the house while Kuro-tan and I are away. I wish to have some sort of barrier for the house, at least until Mokona is well again."

The witch considered his words for a moment, looked steadily at him. (Fai wondered if she knew all his secrets—probably not.) "Like in Koryo, you should be able to handle this yourself, shouldn't you?"

"I wish to avoid using my magic, if possible," he said quietly, lowering his gaze. "What will the price be?"

She looked at him for a long while. "I may be able to grant wishes, Fai, but think about this: are you always going to come to me for help doing things you're capable of accomplishing yourself?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then paused. "I... don't know."

Probably.

"I will not always be around," she continued, lifting a thin, long pipe to her lips. Smoke curled indolently from the little bowl at its end. "And you may not always have the chance to contact me in times of emergency. So I'll ask this of you: Do you really want me to grant this wish?"

Fai bit his lip. There was an alternative to this request, a tedious one that would not require his magic, or Yuuko's help. The witch's question had compelled him to account for the unknown future, in which he might be forced to sell his meager belongings for things that he might desperately want. For the children's sakes, if nothing else.

"No," he answered eventually, "I suppose not."

"Then our conversation ends here." Yuuko exhaled and smiled at him, smoke curling around her like a shroud. "I'll see you again, Fai."

He was left staring into space when the projection faded out. The room was suddenly too quiet; Mokona remained asleep in his hands, her side rising and falling in time to her breathing.

Looking at the creature, Fai was reminded of that lazy afternoon in Outo, when she had told him that he could smile and be happy, and no one would blame him for it. (Yes, yes Fai would.) It was so very strange how he had grown so fond of the little thing, the only one of their group who smiled and played right along with his teasing Kurogane, to the extent of making up pretend-conversations with their voices. He never expected...

Fai got to his feet and padded back to the children's room, tucking Mokona softly back next to Syaoran.

It was still hours from dawn, but he'd need all that time to work, if he wanted to finish the wards before anyone woke up.

In the end, Kurogane had caught him when he slipped back into the house, leaves stuck in his hair from climbing ladders and poking his head past tree branches to affix his wards on the exterior brick walls.

"What were you doing outside?" the ninja growled suspiciously, watching from the couch as Fai paused in front of a mirror and picked the leaves off himself.

"Looking at birds," he sang, smiling wide. "And you left before I finished my sentence, Kuro-wan—if Syaoran-kun feels better today, I think we'd all benefit if he could do an inventory of the things we had in storage."

"Tell him yourself," came the short response.

"You're such a spoilsport, Kuro-rinta." Fai pouted. He blinked back his fatigue (the runes for those wards had been minuscule), instead heading into the kitchen. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Anything but that sweet crap you keep insisting on making," Kurogane said, his voice a little muffled by the walls.

"But you've been eating it anyway," he countered, hid a smile. There were fruits and eggs and butter in the fridge, and flour and sugar in the kitchen cabinet. Perhaps pancakes with a side of apples?

"The pork bun shoves it in my mouth!" Kurogane protested. Fai heard when the man came to stand in the kitchen doorway, a solid presence in his peripheral vision.

Maybe he should make a little extra, just in case the children grew hungry later in the day. "Well, I haven't seen you stop eating after the first mouthful," Fai pointed out; a sharp smile played on his lips. "Kuro-pin is really hungry in the mornings, isn't he?"

The other man made a noise somewhere between a snort and a grunt. "It's still too damn sweet."

"But everyone else likes it," Fai reminded him. He assembled the ingredients for pancakes in a mixing bowl, liberally pouring a cascade of sugar onto the pile of flour.

"Oi! Is that sugar?" Kurogane yelped.

He slid the ninja a feline grin. The sugar was still flowing into the bowl. "If it is?"

"That's more than enough!" Kurogane snapped, glowering at him. "You call yourself a cook?"

"I call myself a good cook," Fai returned, finally halting the deluge of fine white crystals. "Sakura-chan, Syaoran-kun and Mokona all like my food."

A rude snort was the only answer he received. "They're too polite to say they don't," Kurogane added after a while, "And we're going to fall sick from all that sugar."

"You could always make your own food, Kuro-puu," he answered slyly. "But I think you don't really know how to cook."

The large man sulked in silence for a while. (Fai looked, he definitely was sulking.) Outside, the sun was rising, and birds had begun to chirp. It didn't take long to whisk the pancake batter together; while the butter melted in a frying pan, Fai set a kettle of water to boil, and began to rummage through the fridge, humming to himself. Tea would really take the edge of his weariness, and he was looking forward to it.

When Fai looked back at Kurogane, surprised by the silence, he caught the man looking at his pants again.

He frowned. "Is there something I shouldn't be wearing?"

Shades of dark red crept up the man's neck; he sputtered and turned away. "No. Just cook your damn food, idiot."

Fai blinked at him, gave a vague grin. "Are you going to sit and watch me the entire time?"

"No," Kurogane snapped. He turned away. "I'll be in the back doing some kata."

By the time Sakura was awake, even the invalids of the house had managed to swallow some food.

Fai smiled when she hurried into the kitchen, wide-eyed and running fingers through her ginger hair. "Morning, Sakura-chan! Pancakes?"

"Good morning! I'm sorry I woke up late! Have you been waiting long, Fai-san?" she cried breathlessly, setting herself on a stool with a muffled thump. "Yes, please, I would like pancakes."

He shook his head and grinned at her, preparing a plate of still-warm pancakes and cold, sliced apples. "It's not too bad. I had Big Doggy over for company, and then I brought Syaoran-kun and Mokona breakfast in bed."

The princess looked utterly mortified. "I slept through all of that?" she squeaked.

With a flourish, he slid the plate onto the table in front of her. "Don't worry—both of them said that it was fine to let you sleep. In fact, Syaoran-kun looked better today, I think!"

She smiled in relief. "I'm glad to hear that. Syaoran-kun was asleep when I woke up."

"Tea?" Fai set a clean cup next to her breakfast, brought the teapot over. Sakura nodded; he dispensed some of the steaming beverage, and set little jugs of sugar and cream next to her teacup.

"Thank you, breakfast looks delicious!"

He settled into the seat across from her, propping his chin in his palms as she scarfed her food down. "Well, I'm glad you like it," he said. "Everyone but the growly dog seemed to."

(Elsewhere in the house, Kurogane sneezed.)

Laughter bubbled from the girl's throat; she looked sheepishly at him. "Kurogane-san doesn't like it when you give him all those names, Fai-san."

He smiled at her. "But he hasn't complained for some time now, has he?"

Kurogane hadn't. They shared a grin, the sort that was an unspoken secret between them. Clone or otherwise, Fai really liked this girl—she was warm and cheerful and very much non-judgmental, so unlike the fierce ninja they traveled with. And despite how her previous relationship with Syaoran had suffered, he was savoring how the two of them were growing ever closer through the difficulties they faced.

It was so much easier to smile around Sakura; she made him want to smile—her cheer was infectious, and she helped Fai not think about many other things he could otherwise be brooding over.

"As soon as you're ready, we'll head out," he told her lightly, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "Do you think there's anything else you might need?"

Sakura shook her head. "Just the rags, or cloth, whichever we can find."

"Only the best for the princess," Fai informed her. He wouldn't dream of leaving her with tattered pieces of cloth, not when they could afford better.

A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read and review! :)