"Story"
A Tsubasa Chronicles fanfiction by Sakura no Miko
Summary: Post-Tsubasa. Syaoran receives an unexpected visitor, with a story to tell…
Warnings: Well, this is supposed to take place after Tsubasa, but since Tsubasa hasn't ended yet, I don't even know if I'm spoiling it. A little bit of angst, and a fluffy ending.
Pairing: You should be able to guess…
Disclaimer: If I wrote Tsubasa, this would so be the real ending.
Syaoran smiled.
Their long adventure had finally ended. It seemed surreal, eating and laughing at the castle, just like old times. Touya still called him a "brat," even as Yukito gave him that sweet, innocent smile that said, clearly, to stop the name-calling at once.
And Sakura…
His beautiful Sakura, whom he loved beyond anything in any world, was laughing and smiling at his side.
It was already getting late when a messenger arrived, announcing that a strangely-attired man was seeking Syaoran. "Send him in," Syaoran said, still unaccustomed to having the servants obey him.
He was surprised, and very pleased, when his old friend and teacher, Seishirou, entered.
He hadn't seen Seishirou in a long time. The man had still, almost obsessively, been seeking out the vampire twins. He had never said why finding them was so important, and Syaoran simply accepted the fact that, like him, Seishirou had his own reasons to continue his travel through the worlds.
Touya and Yukito excused themselves. The servants were eager to clean up the dining hall, so Syaoran invited Seishirou to the grand hall, where they could speak freely. He sank into one of the many soft couches, Sakura clinging to his arm. She was falling asleep at the late hour. He smiled again, that soft smile he only gave her. It was amazing just having her near him, sleeping without a worry in the world.
"It's been a long time, Seishirou," Syaoran said, a distinct note of affection in his voice. They'd had their disagreements in the past, but he still cared deeply for his teacher.
"Yes…" Seishirou was as distant as always; he'd been like that as long as Syaoran had known him.
"You still…haven't found them, have you?" Syaoran asked. He could sense the weariness, the desperation, that he'd held within himself for so long. Here he was, happy, while Seishirou was still searching…
"No," Seishirou said simply. "I thought…I might rest here for a few days." His voice was indifferent, but Syaoran knew him well enough to see that the man was truly hurting. He'd never ask for help otherwise.
"Of course," he said, keeping his voice upbeat, as if he hadn't noticed the dark lines outlining Seishirou's face, the dull look in his eyes, the almost-palpable sorrow surrounding him. Sakura snored softly, curled up against his side. "You can stay as long as you want," he continued. No, he wouldn't say 'as long as you need.' Seishirou hated weakness. "The guest rooms—"
"Wait," Seishirou interrupted. "I…I'd like your opinion on something, first."
"Sure. What?" Syaoran blinked, confused. Seishirou never asked anyone for advice.
"There's…a story I heard. It reminded me of you, almost." He was nervous. It wasn't his voice, or his manner, but Syaoran could feel it. Finishing his own quest had left him very in-tune with the suffering of others still searching. He'd never been more grateful for all the pain he'd endured.
"Tell me."
Seishirou took a breath, and began to speak.
There was a man, a long time ago. He was a hunter of vampires, like me.
He's sort of a legend, you might say, among the hunters.
This man had been very happy. He'd become strong and skilled in the hunting arts, almost invincible. All this he'd been able to do thanks to one person—a young, beautiful boy whom the hunter had fallen deeply in love with.
The boy was nothing like the hunter. He was gentle and innocent, almost to a fault. He loved everything that breathed, everything that lived. He didn't understand the dark nature of the vampires, the way they killed without remorse, the black, soulless husks of humans they'd become.
So he'd cry whenever he heard of his lover killing a vampire. No matter what the hunter told him, he couldn't help but cry. And the hunter loved him for that quality.
The hunter knew that he wasn't good enough. He was a monster, with blood-stained hands and a cold, unfeeling heart. He felt nothing for those he killed.
But the boy loved him anyway.
They were out, one day, when a very strong vampire attacked them. The hunter was injured, trying to protect his love. His face was cut badly, and he could no longer see from one of his eyes. He was unable to do anything when the vampire grabbed his lover, his gentle, innocent lover. He couldn't stay conscious.
All he heard was a scream…
His agony was immense when he finally learned what had happened. His lover wasn't dead—but he was no longer alive, either.
The great hunter of vampires was horrified to learn that his beloved boy was now a vampire himself.
The boy locked himself away, refusing to see anyone. He stayed for days, slowly going mad with hunger. No one could persuade him to let himself out. He was disgusted by himself, his need to kill to live. He wanted to die.
Finally, his sister convinced him to open the door. He couldn't control himself. The gentle boy attacked his own sister and nearly killed her. The hunter saw everything—saw his beloved turned into a beast, a demon. In the end, the sister was also turned into a vampire, the only way she could have been saved from death.
The hunter knew his duty. He had to kill them. He had to kill the boy he loved with all his heart, and the sister he'd thought of as his own.
But they escaped. The two vampires made a pact with the dimension witch.
The hunter followed them. When he asked what they had given up to her, his heart was broken.
His dearest, his love, had given up the most precious thing he had—his love for the hunter.
There was noting left, the hunter realized, of the person he'd once loved. His flesh was undead, his gentle nature subsumed under the vampire's blood-lust, his only connection to his past erased.
He didn't love him anymore.
So the hunter hardened his heart, determined that, if there was truly nothing he could do, he would at least kill the boy with his own hands. He paid the witch with his useless eye, the only reminder he had of the fierce devotion he'd had to his lover, and gained the power to search the worlds for the two vampires.
He searched for a long, long time…
Seishirou stopped.
"What happened to him?" Syaoran asked gently.
"I don't know. As far as I know, he's still…searching," Seishirou said, his voice strangely flat.
"How terrible," Syaoran whispered. He fondled a wisp of Sakura's hair.
"What…what do you think he would do, if he found them?"
Syaoran's hand stilled, but he didn't look at Seishirou. He was…almost afraid of what he'd see in those darkened eyes. "Even if…even if the boy he loved changed so much, the hunter still loved him," Syaoran said evenly. "He wouldn't have kept searching if he didn't want them to be together again. He's scared, I think, because his lover changed so much. But change isn't always such a bad thing."
He took a deep breath. "I knew Sakura wouldn't be the same when I finally saved her. And I was scared. I thought she wouldn't love me, or that I wouldn't love her." Syaoran smiled, a sad sort of smile, watching Sakura's chest rise and fall steadily with each breath. "It's true that she's…different. And so am I." He looked at Seishirou. "But we fell in love all over again." He kept his gaze steady. "I think, if you truly love someone, you'll always love them, no matter how much they change."
Seishirou looked away, and Syaoran saw him tremble. "I can hear him crying," the man whispered. But even when his voice trembled, he still exuded such a strong aura.
Syaoran smiled. Seishirou was so afraid of being weak, but even in his weakest moments, he was still one of the strongest people Syaoran had ever known.
"Every night, in my dreams, I hear him crying. It's always a different person at his feet, but his cries, all he same. And I can see her, trying to comfort him." His raised his hands over his artificial eye, as if to block the image.
Syaoran extended a hand, awkwardly, to his old teacher's back. "The more a person seems to change on the outside, the less they change on the inside," he said, as good of a comfort as he could mange. "I'm sure that, even if the boy—" and Syaoran tried desperately not to say the name on the tip of his tongue, keeping up the game, the illusion "—even if the boy became something completely different in his body, even if he had to do things he hated just to live, as long as he stayed the same inside, he really never changed at all. He's still the boy that hunter fell in love with."
Seishirou moved his hand. "Than you," he said, almost too soft to hear. "I think I've rested enough."
"I hope you find what you're looking for, Seishirou," Syaoran said, offering his hand. Seishirou shook it.
The familiar magic aura filled the room, and, in a flash, the man was gone, as if he'd never been there.
"You were wonderful, Syaoran," a girl's voice whispered next to him. Sakura's emerald eyes, without a trace of sleepiness, peered up at him. "Do you think…they'll be happy?"
Syaoran caressed her cheek, leaned down, and kissed her, gently. "Yes," he whispered. "I think they will."
Author's note: This is partially the result of several factors—the "dark fairy tales" that were so popular a while back; a wonderful—yet horribly sad—Tsubasa 'fic I read that I read about Subaru from X meeting Seishirou from Tsubasa ("Travel Companions" by Elihice); and the fact that my other 'fic, "The Darkest Night" made me realize that a lot of people really want Subaru and Seishirou to have a happy ending.