Chapter Text
He has dreams sometimes, dreams about the night that Suwa burned.
In the dreams, he can see all the details that he blocked out from his waking eyes. In the dreams, he can see the castle burning, the strangely delicate flames that licked up the side of the crenellations under the heavy belching cloud of crimson smoke. In the dreams, he can see the bodies - the people of Suwa, hacked and scattered in the streets, crushed and burning under the falling rubble.
In his dreams he can see the sinuous forms of the demons sliding slowly through the streets, burnished-black scales reflecting the orange glow.
In his dreams he can smell the smoke, choking him with ashes, the wind full of the taste of charring human flesh.
He wakes from these dreams bolt upright, never making a sound - but with all his flesh breaking out into a cold sweat, gasping the clean air that does not smell of smoke and blood and bodies.
He sees Syaoran's eyes looking at him across the darkness sometimes, shining with understanding. Syaoran saw everything, through the eyes of another. He feels Fai's body pressed against him in the darkness, not looking, not judging, but understanding and offering comfort all the same. Fai has his own nightmares, his own demons, and his own blood.
And he lies back down, too iron in self-control to let himself tremble as he wants to, in cold and fear as he lies wide-awake, staring down the darkness.
Because they don't understand. They can never understand.
In his dreams, he likes it.