The battle between Skye and Sabretooth had ended, and it was clear who the victor was. Sabretooth lay on the ground, panting heavily. His powerful self-healing ability kept him alive, but the pain he endured made it impossible for him to stand.
"Brother Kurogai, from now on, if you're heading into danger, take me with you! I won't slow you down!" Skye said with enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with determination.
Kurogai chuckled softly, satisfied with her resolve. He gently ruffled her hair.
"There will come a time when you'll stand beside me."
Skye beamed at his words. This had always been her goal—to fight alongside him instead of being protected from the sidelines.
"Oh! That reminds me." Kurogai reached into his dimensional storage and pulled out a small pendant. "Take this. If anything urgent comes up, you can use it to contact me."
Skye leaned in, curious. "What is it?"
"It's a communicator I salvaged from deep space," Kurogai explained. "Kind of like a two-way radio, but it won't be jammed by electromagnetic interference. And it's nearly impossible to hack."
He handed the pendant to her. Kurogai had found several of these devices during his travels through distant galaxies. In the vast emptiness between stars, reliable communication was everything. Even across light-years, these devices maintained a secure signal. Stark himself would need time to break their encryption.
"I'll keep it safe, I promise," Skye said, smiling as she carefully tucked the pendant away.
"Alright then, let's head back to the orphanage."
Before they left, Kurogai turned toward Sabretooth, still immobilized on the ground. With a flick of his hand, he sealed the mutant in a spatial lock and cast him into his Kamui dimension for safekeeping.
Then, together with Skye, he teleported back to the orphanage.
---
A day later, Kurogai departed again. Before leaving, he made sure to give a communicator to Dean Mary as well, just in case she ever needed to reach him quickly.
This time, his destination was the X-Mansion.
But Kurogai didn't announce his arrival. Instead, he waited quietly in Rogue's room, knowing she would be returning from class soon. He hadn't forgotten his promise to her. And after everything, spending some quiet moments together felt long overdue.
The school bell rang outside, and after a few minutes, the click of a key turning broke the silence. The door opened—and there she was.
"Kurogai! You're really here!" Rogue lit up at the sight of him sitting by her desk. Her voice was filled with joy.
But she quickly stepped inside and shut the door behind her, locking it with care. The last thing she needed was for one of the teachers or students to see him here. Rogue understood Kurogai's relationship with the X-Men wasn't exactly friendly at the moment, and she didn't want anyone making a scene or trying to throw him out.
"What's wrong?" Kurogai asked, amused. "You're not happy to see me?"
"It's not that," Rogue whispered nervously, walking closer. "I'm just worried Ororo or someone else might try to make you leave. And if they do, I'm going with you."
Kurogai's smile widened at her boldness. Rogue might be young, but her loyalty was unwavering. And the thought of being separated clearly troubled her.
"Good," he said gently, patting the seat next to him. "Come here."
Rogue obeyed without hesitation. Kurogai had accepted her, fully and openly. He didn't keep her at arm's length anymore, and his actions showed it. There was a warmth and familiarity between them now that hadn't existed before.
"You look nervous," Kurogai teased, watching her fidget slightly.
"I—I just… I didn't expect you to really show up like this," she replied softly, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Kurogai chuckled. "I promised, didn't I?"
He leaned back, observing her with a relaxed gaze. Most of the women in his life had vastly different energies. Jean, for instance, was the epitome of calm intellect, mature and composed. Much of that came from her bond with the Phoenix Force—it gave her a cosmic awareness that shaped her very presence.
Rogue was the opposite. She had the energy of first love, raw and genuine, untouched by cynicism or experience. It was refreshing. Being with her felt light, uncomplicated—a comfort he didn't know he missed.
That was why he took his time. There was a quiet beauty in this delicate connection. He didn't need to rush. The teasing, the glances, the shy touches—it all had a charm he wasn't willing to trade away so quickly.
---