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Kain unclasped the sheath of his sword and placed it beside its weapon on the table in front of him. The wind in the town of Agart was quiet that night; maybe it was always so, in this part of the world. The sound of it brushing past leaves outside was his only companion. No quiet murmuring (in the case of Cecil and Rosa) or spirited conversation (from Cid and Yang) had followed him, this far to the edge of town.
The monsters hadn't been too strong on the way to the town. Their weapons could not have gotten too damaged. However, while fighting, Kain had noticed the sword he'd been using (in place of his usual spear) had a suspiciously deep scratch along its center. Quietly stepping away from the others to examine it had only been prudent.
…And, perhaps, the chance to hide away from the rest of them was too good to pass up. The less he reminded them all of his presence, the better. He was lucky that the weapons merchant had agreed to let him borrow the little storage shack behind his store, the hut being out-of-the-way enough that Kain could leave the rest of them in peace.
He moved to lift the sword to his eye level, and flinched. With a click of his tongue, he moved the sword to his other hand, and resumed his inspection. The pain in his shoulder was deep, at an unfortunate juncture that left his fingers tingling slightly with every movement of his arm. At the very least, it was only his right shoulder that had been struck when he had taken that hit for Cecil. He could simply use one-handed weapons for a while.
It was only a bruise, most likely, so he could manage. If it was something worse…well.
He would manage regardless.
He brought the sword closer to him. The groove did look deep, but was definitely not something that would lead to a crack—at least, not anytime soon. Just some simple polishing would—
His breath hitched as a warm feeling washed over him.
A healing spell. Could it be…?
…But, no. He'd long since memorised exactly how Rosa's healing magic felt. The magic on his skin was not as warm, not as steady. It was a magic he hadn't felt but a few times in recent battles.
Kain sighed, lowering the weapon. "Don't."
The sensation of the Cure spell lessened, but didn't abate completely. Not even when Kain turned to face the man—Cecil didn't even look sheepish, ignoring Kain's sharp look completely. Kain hadn't even heard him approach the doorway, perhaps too used to the foreboding, heavy steps of the dark knight armour that had preceded Cecil's presence.
Kain put the hand not holding the sword on his hip—unthinkingly, as the movement of his bad shoulder made him bite back a grimace. "Stop it."
Cecil's eyes darted to his shoulder before meeting Kain's again. He didn't move hands out of that loose approximation of a prayer, and the spell continued. "Then you stop avoiding me when I try to cover you."
So he'd noticed. Damn.
"I move quickly. I don't do it intentionally," Kain lied.
"I don't believe you," Cecil replied, face set in a disapproving frown.
Kain didn't know how to respond. He stayed silent, looking at some point on the door next to Cecil. The man no longer wearing a helmet meant that Kain had bear the full brunt of the too-earnest face that had been hidden underneath. He himself still had his armour on, but was also not wearing his helmet. He wished he was; it was hard to meet Cecil's gaze without it.
Kain heard Cecil sigh, and only looked back when, from the corner of his vision, he saw the man's eyes slide closed in concentration.
"I have barriers and a shield to protect myself, you know," Cecil said quietly, eyes still closed. "You can jump in after I draw the enemy's attention."
"I was careless," Kain replied, carefully setting the sword down on the counter behind him. "Nobody should have gotten hit there."
The Rukh attacking them en route to Agart from the airship had been a standard affair—faster than regular monsters in the area due to its wings, but no match for their prepared group. What had been unexpected was another bird ambushing them as the first one fell, swooping down at him. They had all seen it too late. Cecil moved to block the swoop, but Kain had been closer to the bird. He'd seen his chance to finish it in one blow, before Cecil would have had to get hurt in his stead. However, he had mistimed his rush in. His dash towards the monster had been clumsy. He'd finished it off, but had taken a heavy blow. A preventable mistake.
Cecil only hummed in response, an unimpressed noise that moved his mouth into a pout for a moment.
The room fell silent again.
…It was hard not to relax into the healing spell, aches he hadn't even realised he'd had loosening and melting away. The longer he felt the magic, the more Kain realised exactly how the spell felt different to Rosa's. It wasn't that the spell was less warm, but seemingly not meant to be warm at all—with every moment, he felt a chill grow at his skin. Not an unpleasant one, but he still found himself shaking off a shiver.
A quiet noise—Cecil exhaling—drew his attention back to Cecil. Kain found himself inspecting Cecil's face. When Kain had truly paid attention to it last—a night spent camping outside the Mist Dragon's cave, on their way to unknowingly destroy a village—Cecil's face had been shadowed. It had been that way for years, starting not long after taking up the role of dark knight. Always weary, expressions always tight.
What else could be expected, Kain supposed, of someone using their own pain as strength in a fight?
The lines etched in Cecil's face were barely visible now, in the light of the moon entering the room. He looked less burdened, despite the weight of their current journey.
That, at least, made Kain feel some kind of relief. Cecil had never deserved the burdens placed upon him. Even making grave mistakes, it had only been out of ignorance, at worst. He couldn't say the same for himself.
(Though, relief was not the only thing he felt. Because, of course Cecil had managed to outpace him in this matter too. Ever the better of the two of them, ever—)
"How does it feel now?" Cecil asked.
Kain felt the spell end, and met Cecil's eyes as they opened.
"Fine." Kain rolled his shoulder in demonstration. It did feel better, of course. There was still a deep sharpness to it, an ache that either needed time or a more focused spell, but at least moving his arm no longer made him grit his teeth.
Cecil crossed his arms, brows drawn in that searching, doubtful expression of his. Even covered in armour, Cecil had never been a hard man to read. But, being able to see his expressions so clearly…It almost felt like they were kids again.
"Truly," Cecil asked. The end of the word trailed off flat.
Kain held Cecil's gaze.
"...And don't lie to me," Cecil added on after a moment.
Kain looked away again and sighed at the words. Speaking of childish. But where he would normally brush Cecil off anyway, he couldn't find it in himself to do so.
"If you insist," Kain said instead. He started unlatching his pauldron, but Cecil was already in front of him—having walked the few paces between them as Kain had replied, not waiting for his answer. Cecil caught the pauldron as it loosened and placed it on the table behind Kain.
Kain stayed still as Cecil prodded at his shoulder lightly. His under-armour was thin, especially compared to the dark, heavy material Cecil had worn once. Even with how light the material was, it was difficult to feel the press of Cecil's fingers, the touch too light. Not a gentleness Kain was used to from him.
Rosa had years of experience healing. She could pinpoint exactly what needed to be done even during the most fast-paced of combat. Out of combat, she was even more capable, needing barely a glance to determine exactly what was wrong.
Cecil was clearly less experienced. The few times that Kain had felt his spells before, it had been as earlier: a general, all-purpose balm. Less effective, but it got the job done. The feeling of that magic focused on one area, concentrated with purpose, would be different. Despite wishing Cecil would stop wasting his time healing a simple bruise, Kain did find himself curious as to what it would feel like.
When the spell finally touched his shoulder, Kain flinched away before he could catch himself.
Cecil instantly drew back. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing." Kain clicked his tongue at Cecil's expression. "I mean it this time. It's just…cold." Very cold, unlike any healing magic he'd felt before.
Cecil relaxed, satisfied with the answer. "Rosa mentioned that too, when we talked about my healing magic. It seems paladins have a different source of magic to other casters…" He'd tilted his head a little, perhaps remembering something. "It has made practising spells with Rosa frustrating. She can only teach me so much when it's this different."
At the sound of Rosa's name, Kain's jaw clenched.
She was strong for being able to move past what had happened to her, continuing to be kind and helpful as always. Cecil as well, finding it in himself to move past his guilt. Even after what Kain had done, they had been nothing but cordial and accepting to him since his return from Golbez's side.
He was the only one who could not move on. It was, after all, because he alone knew the truth of how he felt. How he still felt, despite how much he tried to push the feelings aside. If it were only guilt over hurting his friends, perhaps he would also be able to move on. But it was not a matter of the past. How could he call himself their friend, when the thought of them together without him still made him feel a twist in his gut?
Cecil paused, perhaps noticing Kain's silence. The man was not the most perceptive when it came to other people's emotions, but, Kain supposed, there was little room to misjudge with how close they were standing.
"Rosa forgave you. I don't think she was ever even angry at you." Cecil's voice was steady, if perhaps a little impatient. "And though I first felt betrayed, I now know who was truly at fault…and it was not you."
But it had been Kain. It had been his selfishness. His jealousy. They were just both far too pure-hearted to see it.
He wished for his helmet, or at least for Cecil to back away; he felt trapped, unable and unwilling to express what he was thinking without being met with more of that damned understanding. But the world was not so kind; the most he could do was relax further against the table and turn his head away from Cecil as the man healed him. Not that it was very effective; with his light hair and clothing, it was as though Cecil absorbed the moonlight coming in through the door. He remained a bright white taking up all of Kain's peripheral vision.
"I am glad you are back with us, though. You could not imagine my relief to see you alive after we became separated during the earthquake."
Relief that hadn't lasted long, Kain gathered. He still remembered the elation he'd felt, having the upper hand against Cecil in the crystal chamber. The vicious joy of knowing that Rosa was his. The feelings may have been spurred on by Golbez, but they were still his own.
(He also remembered, at their next meeting, the choking feeling that followed Cecil's words as they parted, the confusion in his voice as he'd urged Kain to come back to his senses. Kain couldn't find the words to taunt the man after that, even as the dark ache in his head had urged him to.)
"And now you're back for good." Cecil finished casting his spell, though he didn't take his hand off of Kain, instead sliding it up to rest atop his shoulder.
Kain looked back over at Cecil. The man was just looking at him, not quite a smile on his face, but eyes relaxed into a relieved-looking expression.
What could he say, to that face? It was too easy to get swept up in Cecil's unwavering resolve. It was something that he had seen less and less over the years, during Cecil's years as a dark knight. He'd almost forgotten how radiant it felt.
Kain could only sigh. "Thanks. "
Cecil squeezed his shoulder for a moment before finally letting go. "I'm glad I managed to track you down."
So, Cecil had looked for him. The thought left warmth curling at his chest—a feeling that Kain had no right to.
Kain straightened his back, standing up out of his lean against the table. "Did you consider that I didn't want to be found?" Kain had intended the words to come out in jest, but the tone of his own voice made him wince.
When the silence dragged on and Cecil didn't reply—a frown on his face, clearly trying to find a reply and coming up empty—Kain sighed and gently pushed Cecil away.
"...I think I preferred it when you would just attack me out of nowhere," Kain muttered, managing a wry smile. Rolling his shoulder again, it felt as though it had never even been injured. The cold of Cecil's magic had completely faded from the area. The night air felt unpleasantly warm against it.
"If you were not joking, I could still take you up on that," Cecil replied after a moment.
The words pulled a huff of laughter from Kain. "It doesn't suit you anymore."
A beat of silence passed again, after which Cecil straightened up, half-turning to face the door. "The equipment is fine. Come back and eat something with us. Cid and Yang are off on their own, but Rosa and I were about to have dinner."
Did he realise, Kain wondered, just how cruel he was being? If he did not know Cecil as well as he did, he would assume the request to be mockery.
…But, Kain did know Cecil, and the words were as earnest as anything else the man said. Despite how much they should not, Cecil and Rosa both still cared for him.
(Only out of politeness. Only as their friend, echoed in his thoughts.)
For both their sakes and his own, it would be better for him to leave them be.
Cecil turned and left the shed with a beckoning glance back.
Kain followed.