Comments: Welcome back to the dreary, the dark, and the terrible face of this world. Here's a continuation of CCS in which the ending isn't quite a 'happily ever after,' but dances around that 'happily ever after.' The final chapter is done and the middle is still cooking slowly. This is still an SxS type, (thus I'm honoring the loyalty I have to this ship), only every other chapter will be in the voice of their beloved son. We will be jumping back and forth between the present and past. The forbidden love of two souls will be the center of the past and the reaquaintence of these unfortunate souls will be the end and beginning of the present. Enjoy and review…
Standard Disclaimer: Card Captor Sakura solely belongs to CLAMP. All characters, except for one, belong to them. The only things I can rightfully claim are the plot and protagonist.
Where his Ashes Rest
By MistyWing
I remember my father's dying words; they were the only expressive words he said to me in all the thirty-five years I belonged to him. He had been a good father, but he treated me like a trophy he owned. He trapped me in his tough love even though I never hated him for it. He was a discreet father, doting on the sidelines, demanding on the field. He had always shown me some form of fondness, but before I could return the favor, he usually withdrew from me. He couldn't do anything when he was bedridden and sick.
He spoke with urgency, almost begging, through an unrecognizable rasp webbed with suffering.
How disease could deteriorate the strongest man I knew. Ten tumors to the pancreas and he went out faster than the blink of an eye, defying the claims the doctor made about a four month life expectancy. The crazed look he gave me in his golden amber eyes told me he had been done trying to live a long time ago; no more chemotherapy, no more pain medicine, and no more pain to the hypothetical heart. Yes, he told me in a desperate gasp… "Please, forgive her. Don't hate her."
The pain had been so deep that the cut only crusted over since early childhood. Those dying words reopened the cut that never mended.
"Of course, Dad." People were measured by their actions and not by their words. My dad gave me the keen eye, expecting me to live up to the saying. I never did return him that reassuring look because the reaper came for him the very moment our eyes connected. That was the last and final thing he said to me.
"…For your mother and her surviving relatives…"
I suddenly jerked from my chair and jerked from that vivid memory of my dying father. Blanked faced, spaced out son of a dead financial tycoon, clumsily spilling the coffee over my aunt's desk of scattered documents, I was prepared for that stern earful from her.
"Good grief! You didn't hear a word I said," Meilin crossly stated.
I quickly wiped down her desk with Kleenex. I yanked out all the tissues from the box and tossed them onto the table. Each one fluttered before landing on the wet spots. I was only making the mess on her desk worse by adding sodden scraps of tissue paper.
"Enough! Enough! I'll ask the secretary to clean it up. Let's move into the conference room." She gathered her important papers and ushered me into the next room.
This woman was a lawyer and a spinster. She wrote my father's will and she loved my father. Although she was blood related, all my first cousins and I called her Auntie. Technically she was just a first cousin, once removed. I had a rather large extended family and no siblings. I grew up with only cousins that have been like siblings to me through the play days. Auntie and my grandmother brought me up in a rather frigid environment my father established, by giving me the maternal love and consideration I needed. My grandmother died three years ago and the lost left a giant hole in my heart. And, now, three years later, her only son followed her. His death did not quite leave a hole in my heart, but I feel as if something was missing; something that was similar to the sandbags under my clothes he used to bound to my legs and arms during my everyday life (as a part of stamina training). The only person who was in my childhood, adolescence, and was still alive, was the woman that was right now sitting before me.
"The chains were loosened when the new head of the elders took over. But now, the chains are completely gone since the death of your father. By tradition alone and not by law, your place as head is instated. You won't find anything about the clan on the will. Just the usual concerns are brought up; estates, investments, and personal items…"
I ran both my hands through my unkempt chestnut hair. "Woah, whoa, whoa. Hold your horses. What about my mother and…"
Meilin's eyes flared. "I'm starting from the top as I've noticed you turn a deaf ear to everything and anything I say about the will! You shut your trap and just listen!"
I take a seat in the armchair and expose myself to her sizzling temper. She continued, but this time more calmly. "As the executor of your father's will, you will be the one distributing his belongings. I hope you have read those documents I sent you because along with them I attached a list of instructions that your father gave you. The instructions are not signed and notarized because they were written in your father's hand when he was bedridden. Your mother-"
People knew how I would react when the particular woman in my life-that didn't give a care about my life, but was no less the one that did me a rite by bringing me into the world-was mentioned in my presence. I think I blanched because Auntie cast me a wary look before proceeding. "Your mother and her father are in the wishes and the will. So is your uncle, Touya."
"Dad put a dead man in there?"
"He had specific instructions, so I ask that you please, respect your dead father and dead uncle."
I folded my hands in front of me and politely looked up at her. Some say that I resembled the stiff, direct, and authoritative personality of my father. Some say that I was like the smart, agile, yet clumsy model of my mother. I never knew who to believe or what to believe. I never knew how much of me belonged to my father's side or my mother's side; or if I fell equally to both sides. Personally, I try not to think about it or I try not to get particularly angry at those who bring up the question.
"…Your mother will be phoned about your arrival in Japan ahead of time…"
I, dumbfounded, blinked at Meilin. "Don't give the woman a heart attack. She hasn't seen me in thirty-two-years, three months, and fifteen days."
Meilin looked at me. "I see, you still count every passing day she has missed."
"That's because I care even though caring comes from my end and my end alone."
Meilin sighed. "Don't begrudge her; she's still your mother under all circumstances. Remember what your father said to you?"
I gave a cynical bark of laughter. "You mean forgive and forget, right?"
Meilin stood from her chair and walked around the table towards me. Her hands settle around my broad shoulders as she spoke into my ear. "You might actually begin to forgive if you know their story."
"Are you really going to tell me after all these years?" I asked, rotating my head slightly to look at her. I just couldn't believe it.
"I will tell you because your father wanted me to. It's one of his many dying wishes."