New Moon
We are those who can't see the light of the fresh moon once it is disappeared. We are those who must suffer the most for our blindness. A new moon. A new beginning. The end of an era.
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A fleeting brush of lips was all it took.
With just a fleeting brush of lips, Li Syaoran had his final contact with the woman he loved more than the earth itself. Why should life matter, when Kinomoto Sakura had just kissed him farewell for the last time? There would be no more kisses, no more cheerful memories where she was concerned.
Her emerald gaze was watering as she turned from him, one hand lying on her stomach. He wanted to stand and wrap his arms around her, tell her it would be alright and she didn't need to cry. But how could he say those words to her when he couldn't even believe them himself? He couldn't believe that things would be alright. He wouldn't believe she didn't need to cry.
The dying sunlight glittered off the ring on her left ring finger, and their gazes were both drawn to it. It symbolised all those happy times; all the laughter, all the joy, all the love. Yet lately it had become a symbol of their now broken bond. So much had changed.
Since when had they drifted apart? Syaoran's mind tried to fumble with an answer as Sakura slowly slipped the golden ring off, placing it on the table directly in front of him. Her pale, petite hands were shaking as she withdrew them, gaze stilled locked on the ring.
'I'm sorry,' she whispered brokenly. 'I really am, Syaoran. I didn't want it to come to this.' She closed her eyes as tears began to leak down her cheeks, and she turned to run out of the house. His voice was frozen, his body paralysed, as he stared at the ring and the finality her action had meant. Ten years of relationship had culminated in this, in their mutual pain. Their bond had been inevitably torn, the string broken, leaving them both vulnerable and upset.
Li Syaoran never cried. Yet as he heard the front door slam, tears began to stream down his face. His hand reached out for the ring automatically, cradling it in his palm. She had worn this for two long years. Two years full of joy and happiness . . . and now the period was over. There would be no more. There would be nothing but endless pain on the bleak roads that spun from their joined path, separating them, plunging him back into the same darkness he had once walked in before Sakura had come to his side.
She had lit up his world, illuminated the things he'd thought were best kept in the shadows. Things inside of him had begun to stir, to wake, and then he was no longer one who couldn't feel. It was Sakura who had changed him, moulded a person from the shell that had once been an emotionless being. It had been Sakura who had cheered him up when he was down. It had been Sakura who had taught him how to love. It had been Sakura who he had given himself to in entirety.
It was Sakura who had just destroyed his heart.
It was Sakura who had given him his heart in the first place. He felt bitter, resentful, at the thought. She had only inflicted more pain on him—by giving him a heart, she had given herself the ability to rip it to shreds, prolong the pain he had been putting off without one. She had made him vulnerable, weak. She had made him human.
The setting sun seemed to laugh at Syaoran's internal agony as he turned the metal over and over again between his fingers, oblivious to the world. Why hadn't he seen the warning signs before? Why had he allowed himself to get so close to that girl, the one who he should have stayed away from? She had given him all the emotions he had fought so hard to keep away, all the emotions he knew would only cause him grief in the future. The emotions that could tear a man apart from the inside out had been the ones she had taught him to feel.
Love. Joy. Happiness. Contentment. Friendship. Romance.
All the things she had taught him.
All the things she had destroyed him with.
Why had he fought so hard to keep a semblance of his life with her? He knew in the depths of his heart—had always known—that she would do nothing but help him die, little by little, when she broke his heart. When that door had slammed shut, a part of his heart had ceased to beat. He had no meaning in life.
What was the point in living without a life? It seemed a stupid idea, reckless and irresponsible. Sakura had been his life. Sakura had taken his life. Sakura had dominated and then destroyed his life. She was like the Queen. She was ruthless. She cared not about his emotions—she cared only about leaving him broken, a mess that could not be fixed. There was no way he could ever feel whole without her by his side.
It had been building since their first kiss. She was a siren. She had captured his heart with her song of love, weaving a melody around him and drawing him in ever closer until there was no way to have a more intimate connection. Since that time, almost ten years ago, the sea had seemed calm, but the pressure had slowly been building. The calm before the storm.
The storm had come; it had crashed down on him, wave upon wave of pure, undiluted sorrow and anger. Why should Sakura care about his life now that she was out of it? She wouldn't care about the pieces she had left behind that were being continuously hit by the wave that overwhelmed him. She had taken the two people he loved more in the world from him. Could any one woman be so cruel and heartless?
Yes. Sakura had been. She had taken his firstborn and his fiancée from him. She had taken the two people that made up his world. She had walked out of his life, still pregnant with his child, to go to another man. Sakura had broken his heart, torn the remains from his body and thrown them to the ground, stomping on them until there was no beat left to beat. There was no life left to life. No love left to give. No reason to carry on living.
She hadn't looked back.
He buried his head in his hands, running his fingers through his chocolate hair. She had often traced the same path with her dainty fingers, tugging on it to pull him closer as they sought a closer embrace, a closer bond than the one they'd already had …
There had been no needs for words in the past. The silence had once represented a feeling of contentment, of happiness, yet it had turned to brooding and secrets, hatred and despair. For three months, it had represented the frostiness Sakura had given off, the secrets she'd hidden. The trust he had once placed in her had shattered into a thousand fragments, irretrievable. She had lied to him, time and time again, and led him on only to break his heart.
Was the child she carried his? The question suddenly jumped into his mind, moving immediately to the forefront. There had never been any proof—he had still trusted her then. But he was not the only man she had had between her thighs. The other man could have just as easily fathered the unborn child he had grown to love as his own. The possibility that fatherhood had been snatched away from him only thinned the tightrope he was walking on even further. There was nothing but a strand left, keeping him in the real world and away from the world of loss and grief and sorrow. He refused to fall into the endless pit, to wander up the endless path of darkness and silence, of mystery and sorrow and grief.
With new determination, he lifted his head and pocketed the ring. He would find Sakura. He would find her, even if it killed him in doing so. No matter how many years it took, or how many miles he had to travel, he would find the woman he had loved more than anything. He would ask her all the questions that were now brimming in his mind.
Do you know how much you've hurt me, Sakura? Do you know how much pain is running through my system? My life can't function without you in it. I can't live without my oxygen. If you gave me a heart just so you could rip it up, what does that make you? You are nothing more than a liar, a player. You toy with people's emotions so badly that when you leave, it's a mass of pain.
Yes, he would say that to her. He would let her know what he was feeling. He would make her know the pain that he felt inside every time he thought of her. He would make her know the anguish she was putting him through slowly, the pieces of his heart she was breaking off one by one and flicking away like they were no more interest to her than a bread crumb. He would make her know just what pain felt like.
With the new determination set in his mind, he strolled out of the house he had shared with Sakura until that very day and out onto the streets. It was darker now, with only the harsh, false light that hit the pavements from the looming, tall lampposts that littered the road. Following a path, he kept to the shadows these created, keeping from the light that blared down upon any and all.
She hadn't gotten too far: she was sat on the bench three streets away, arms wrapped around her slim stomach. 'Why do you always jump to conclusions?' she whispered when he reached her, and so much pain was concealed by those words it tore what little of his heart was left. He slumped into the seat beside her.
'Why do you never fight back?' he answered with his own query. 'You just accept what I fling at you and apologise, but never defend yourself. Why not, Sakura?' His amber eyes were intense as they studied her profile, so slight in the darkness of the night. There was no illumination in the sky. A new moon.
She seemed to realise it at the same time, tilting her head upwards. 'A new moon. A time for new beginnings. If the moon can be reborn, month after month, why can't other things?'
'Because the moon is what illuminates us during the darkness of times. When it is gone, the things have ended. When it returns, nothing is the same. Some people see the light once more, and some see nothing but the darkness.' His riddle had her mind working furiously as she curled her legs beneath her form. 'Those who see the light might see it as a duller version of its prior self, and some might see it exactly the same way—but they are the rare ones.'
'And we are those who can't see the light of the fresh moon once it is disappeared. We are those who must suffer the most for our blindness.'
She buried her face in her hands. 'What went wrong between us, Syaoran? Everything was going so well … why did everything have to go so horribly wrong? What have we done to deserve this?' Her voice was muffled, but the pain was no longer masked. It dripped from every word, sending blows throughout his system.
He raised his hand, almost as if to soothe her, but then thought better of it and dropped his hand to his side once again, instead settling for watching her as she cried out all the grief and sorrow she felt.
When she raised her head, she wiped at the tear tracks that stained her face. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't burden you with my problems anymore. You made it clear that the responsibility no longer lies with you.' She shuddered. 'I'll be out of your life forever by the end of the week. I'll have Otou-san pick up my things tomorrow at some point.' She made to stand, but his hand wrapped around her wrist tugged her back down.
'Just tell me why, Sakura. That's all I want to know. Before you go anywhere, just tell me why you had to lie to me.'
'I never lied. If you'd waited before jumping to accusations you'd have known that from the start, but if you don't believe me even now, I don't know if we can begin again, or take up where we left off.'
No heart left.
His insides seemed to drain away. I don't know if we can begin again. There would be no second chances. He'd ruined it beyond any chances, any morsel of hope he could have held onto to save it.
Hold on—"I never lied"?
'What do you mean "you never lied"?' he asked, his interest suddenly piqued. 'I heard that account with my own two ears … and you told me that you had indeed been out with that man to café's and such several times.'
'That man is my brother's lover. If you'd asked I would have told you that, but you didn't give me the chance. You just automatically assumed I'd been seeing him! You automatically assumed I was cheating on you!' She glared at him. 'Why would you assume such a thing? You must have so little faith in me to automatically assume the worst of me. You know the only person I've ever loved is you. I can't love anyone else, when you have already taken it all so thoroughly and wrapped it up so tightly there's no way for it to escape. It's either I love you, or I love no one.'
She turned her head to him, and his gaze was drawn to the tears that had begun to stream once more, each one like a singular crystal droplet on her pale skin. Before he could stop himself, he'd wiped them away with his thumb, letting his hand linger on her cheek for a few seconds longer than was absolutely necessary before dropping it again. She closed her eyes at his touch, letting the blissful feeling stay with her longer.
'I just want to know why you don't trust me, Syaoran. Why you always assume the worst.' She turned her head away again. 'Did you think that the baby wasn't yours?'
She'd hit the nail on the head, and she knew it when Syaoran didn't answer. Her shocked breath made him rip his gaze from the floor to instead look back at her. 'You thought I'd go that far and lie to you about our child? Our firstborn?'
'I didn't mean to … it's just that because you didn't defend yourself, what was I supposed to assume, Sakura? You can't blame me for thinking you'd had someone else before you got pregnant, because you didn't deny it, did you? I didn't want to believe it wasn't my child—because that would mean that the family I have always wanted wouldn't be my family. I'd be looking after someone else's child. And that difference would plague me until the day I died.'
She reached one hand out, laying it carefully on his thigh. 'I would never be so stupid as to lie to you about the child I was carrying. I know how protective you can get—sometimes, you're worse than Toya—and I wouldn't put that trouble in your mind.' She rubbed a gentle circle with her thumb through his trousers.
He caught her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. 'Do you remember our first kiss?' he asked softly. She didn't comment on the change of topic, instead nodded in answer as she stared at their joint hands. There was no ring to glimmer in the harsh streetlights now, and that made her feel regret.
'It was a new moon that night as well, wasn't it? A new moon on Christmas Day … weren't we underneath the mistletoe at Tomoyo-chan's house?' She wiped at her eyes with her free hand, wiping away the tears. 'Ten years … it's been ten years since then.'
'Ten years of joy, and happiness.' He could still remember that first taste of her lips, the forbidden fruit. The feeling of joy that had erupted within him. The love that had manifested. He could still feel the promise she had given him in her kiss: the promise to keep him for the rest of her life. Until death us do part.
'I'll always love you, whether we're together or not, Syaoran.'
She tugged her hand from his, settling both over her lap again. Syaoran hadn't liked the sound of that: it sounded far too like a goodbye for him. Maybe he deserved it after the way he'd treated her today.
'Do you remember the first night we had sex?' he asked, trying to keep the topic from the inevitable goodbye.
She laughed breathlessly. 'Do you think I could forget about that?' she asked, and sarcasm marred her voice. 'I think that's the second happiest memory I hold. There's no way I could forget about it.' There was a hint of a blush on her cheeks. He smiled, reaching out to grasp her hand tightly again. This time, she made no move to pull away and for a few minutes they just sat there in silence, the darkness surrounding them like a cloak. It pulled them in, suffocated their senses, until they knew nothing more than just the contact of their burning palms.
The world seemed to shift perhaps half an hour later, when Sakura stood once more, back to Syaoran. 'I have to go. I promised I'd meet some friends,' she murmured. They both knew that was a lie, that she wasn't strong enough to say those final words that would bring an end to everything they had held most dear.
She stalked off down the road and disappeared from his life. This time, Syaoran let her go. This time, Syaoran let the fragments of his heart disappear. He let go of all the past, of all the memories …
And he had no one but himself to blame.
A new moon. A time for new beginnings.
If the moon can be reborn, month after month, why can't other things?
Because, Sakura, other things are independent. The moon is dependent on the ever-burning sun. The sun that will never die.
Yet love cannot be reborn from flames that have been quenched.
A new moon. The end of an era.
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Originally, this wasn't meant to be so angsty but the original plot kinda fell through halfway through - you can probably see the seams where I didn't do a good job sewing the two ideas together :
I got this idea from a friend, who gave me the thing about the moon being reborn. So kudos to Rach :P
Well ... enjoy? Is that the right way to say this?
Tears x