Disc: Not mine.
AN: And here we have the fanfic that officially Ate My Brain. It was started due to my sorrows at finding nothing but hetfic in the CCS section, and while hetfic is all well and good and usually canon, it just didn't seem fair. So here we have either a tragic S+S or a rather bittersweet E+S. That's Eriol/Syaoran, folks, and while there's not much of it in this part there will be. Part one of three, simply for my own convinience. Manga continuity. Nine or ten years post series. Nadeshiko's part is rather out of place. Aside from the guitar intro, I don't like this song all that much. I don't think this would happen. I'm a devout S+S fan, so don't hit me too hard. Writing relationship mystery is fun, isn't it?
MY SACRIFICE
1: WE WEET AGAIN
Going, going, gone.
She had packed her bags earlier that day; stuffed what she was taking in with plenty of room for breathing; left a little note on the kitchen counter; given her forwarding address to the one person she trusted not to give it out freely. She had taken only what she couldn't stand to leave behind- and some things that she wished could come with her were still here. Now, like a thief in the night, she was leaving.
Her feet padded softly on the carpeted hall. She stopped, left her bags at the door, and ran back one last time. The very last time she would ever see the house she had bought what seemed like forever ago.
Her hands, warm and graceful yet, brushed over everything from the walls to the toaster to the armchair near the fireplace. The lump in her throat was expanding slowly and threatening to betray her- the inhabitants of the house tended to sleep light. She crept upstairs, padded to one of the doors, turned the knob as lightly as she could possibly touch it.
He was sleeping soundly for the first time in ages. Breathing deep and even, stray strands of hair brushing over his forehead, chest rising and falling in perfect balance. He looked like a painting- the sheets were unrumpled, the moonlight from the window casting shadows on his face. On the dresser was a picture taken that summer, standing alone like a shrine.
She turned it face-down and turned to him, longing for the assurance that she could safely touch him without waking him up. As it was she could barely speak. Her eyes went wet, and for a moment she wondered if it would really be so bad to just stay and let things be the way they were...
But she forced herself to glance at the unseen photograph, and her eyes hardened again in resolve. She was doing the right thing. For his sake and for her own. This had to stop, somehow, and it was up to her to put things right. He would live.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as she stared at his face one last time. "I just couldn't be your god..."
She left the room as her feelings threatened to overpower her logic. Taking the stairs two at a time like a child, hopping to the door, grabbing her bags and stepping out into the chill of the autumn night.
The moon, full in another week, shone down and bathed her with light. It was almost holy, standing there alone with the white coat she'd been given for her eighteenth birthday, with the moon warming her and giving her a silver-blue blessing. She took a deep breath, night air whispering in her nostrils, and stepped out onto the street.
And Kinomoto Sakura left.
***
Eriol had been sitting outside the airport for some time, folding an autumn-gold leaf into even parts to occupy his hands, before a sleek black limo pulled up and Daidouji Tomoyo emerged.
She hadn't changed much in the few years since he'd last been to Tomoeda. Her hair was still long, held up in a loose deep maroon-coloured braid that made her look almost childish. She wore a tight fitting business suit now, in deference to her position. Her eyes, Eriol noted, were the same as always- gentle and warm and giving away almost nothing.
Tomoyo recognized his gaze and smiled. "You haven't changed either, Eriol-kun," she started softly. "I'm nineteen now, in case you were going to ask. The same as you. Well, the same as that body of yours, at least."
"Don't worry," responded Eriol. "I remember. It's been quite a while, hasn't it, Tomoyo-san? Three years or so since I last visited Japan?"
She nodded. "About that." As she sized him up, her face drew into a genuine smile- an initiation of mental truce. "It's good to see you again, Eriol-kun." Her chauffeur opened the limo door for both of them, and she beckoned him to get in.
The two seated themselves and the car started off. Tomoyo offered him a glass of water (she didn't drink, he knew that) and sipped politely as they talked.
"So," he started. "I'm sure a lot of things have happened in three years, even in a small town like this- your fashion line is selling well, isn't it?" She nodded. "That's good to hear. I've seen it in some of the upscale places in London. It's very nice, really, even if you do seem to have a penchant for ribbons. How is Sakura-san?"
Tomoyo, who had previously been nodding and smiling, sobered as if there was a raincloud over her head. "Sakura-chan is..." she started slowly. "Sakura-chan is gone. She moved to America a few weeks ago."
Eriol gave her a sympathetic and slightly confused smile. "And she didn't tell me? Tomoyo-san, are you joking?"
"She didn't tell anyone," responded Tomoyo. Her eyes were almost too bright, if you deigned to look closely. "She left a note and went in the middle of the night. She said she found a good college and she'll be staying in the dorm. She took Kero-chan with her."
"But... why?" he asked, almost nervous. Sakura always had some kind of reasoning for what she did, but this- what could happen that would send her so far away from her hometown?
Tomoyo offered him a weak smile. "I told you. She found a good college. That was all she left on her note. I do have a forwarding address... But it's classified information. She doesn't want many people knowing, she says. They might want to visit."
"I see." Eriol adjusted his glasses, brow furrowing slightly. "That's unfortunate to hear. How's Li-kun taking it? Not well, I suppose."
She sighed and shook her head, leaning back into her seat. "Awful." she responded. "Even before she left, Sakura-chan was the only one who could really bring him out to talk... Now that she's gone, he's shut up into himself completely. Nobody knows where he is half the time. He's not going to his classes, and Kinomoto-san says he only comes home for meals."
"Oh?" Eriol responded. "Fujitaka-san? How is he?"
And so they talked. Sakura had bought the house that Eriol used to live in. She'd been living there with her father and Syaoran- Touya and Yukito were travelling. Rika and Terada-sensei were married; Chiharu and Takeshi were dating. Sakura's magic had been getting steadily stronger since he'd last seen her. She'd remarked to Tomoyo only a month or so ago that she'd been using the Clow Cards to keep an eye on Tomoeda. The subject of Syaoran they left well alone.
"And what about on your end, Eriol-kun?" she asked him after they'd exhausted the subject of life at home. "You're keeping Nakuru-san and Spinel in England, I guess, you told me as much over the phone- what have you been doing in the last few years?"
"I'm doing odd magic jobs." he replied. "Research and such. I'm thinking of writing a book, maybe- money's not an issue, Clow kept plenty in the bank."
"How's Kaho?"
***
She'd told him it was for the best.
"I'm old," she'd said, laughing as tears slipped from her eyes. "I'm old and I'll be even older before the end. You know I love you, but in this case that doesn't matter. Where will we be in ten years? I don't know how you'll treat me... I don't know how I'll treat you. For all of our similarities, Eriol, I don't think it'll work. I have to say goodbye."
He'd been furious. It was the only time he could ever remember being angry. It had rained- lighting, high wind, the weather itself mirroring his feelings- the sheer force of his emotion had shattered the dishes and brought shelves to the floor. Ruby and Spinel had been absolutely terrified.
It wasn't her he blamed. It was himself. He should have known better than to expect so much. Maybe she was right, or maybe not. The fact remained that he loved her and she was gone. Nothing could change that.
So he came to Tomoeda. He didn't know what he would do, or where he would stay, or where he would go after he left. There wasn't anywhere else he could go.
***
"We broke up." he responded quickly. "I don't know where she is. We haven't kept in touch."
Tomoyo winced. "I didn't see that coming. I'm sorry."
He waved his hand in a brief dismissal of the subject. "It's fine. I'm feeling better now that I'm back in Tomoeda." He blinked as the limo stopped, and looked out to see his old house. "Why are we stopping here, Tomoyo-san?"
"Well, I assumed that you would stay here- Kinomoto-san's not going to mind, and the only hotels around here are the kind you don't go to alone. And none of them are in town, either." She smiled cheerfully and gestured towards the door as though that settled it.
Raise of an eyebrow. "Tomoyo-san, I'm rather hurt. Naturally I thought that you would be kind enough to let me stay with you."
"I would," she started, laughing, "but I don't think Naoko-chan would approve. Out you go."
Eriol opened the door before the name really registered in his mind, stepped out onto the sidewalk, and did a doubletake. "Naoko?" The limo had already driven off, and Tomoyo with it, before he could inquire as to why exactly she was staying with the ghost story girl.
Shaking his head, he walked to the porch and rang the doorbell. It opened to a cheerful smile and an apron. Kinomoto Fujitaka was still good looking, although greying around the temples, and excessively likeable. "Eriol-kun!" he greeted. "I'd heard you were coming back."
"That's right. You look well, Kinomoto-san." Old speech habits were hard to break, even when talking to someone who was for all purposes one's twin brother. "I'm sorry to impose, but may I stay here while I'm visiting?"
Another beaming smile. "Of course! You're not imposing at all, Eriol-kun. Come in! Can I carry your bagga... oh, where's your baggage?"
Eriol looked down to his side, where his luggage should have been, and realized suddenly that the fact that had been nagging at him since he left England was that he had left his luggage behind him. It seemed that Kaho's forgetful nature had been wearing off on him all those years.
He stepped into the house, taking his shoes off, and glanced nervously at Fujitaka. "I guess I forgot it back home. Pretty stupid of me, don't you think?" A worried laugh. "I don't suppose you have any clothing I could borrow until I can go and buy some?"
Sakura's father thought for a moment. "Hm. I'd offer Syaoran-kun's clothing, but I think it would be a bit too small. And of course what Sakura-chan left behind is out of the question. I have some old things up in the attic that I think would fit you. Feel free to wear them."
"Thank you very much." replied Eriol, nodding his head respectfully. "I really am very sorry."
Fujitaka laughed. "Don't think about it. I don't quite understand you that well, Eriol-kun... But you're welcome in this house. And I've always been grateful for that magic you gave me."
Eriol shook his head. "I was glad to give it up, Kinomoto-san. You don't need to thank me." Offering one last small smile, he walked up the old stairs. Stepping over the ones that creaked- there were more than there had been nine years ago- he made his way into the attic.
Dust assailed his lungs as he climbed up into the stuffy room. The only light came from the window; he smiled and quickly admired the tone of almost-sunset sky. His eyes fell onto someone he hadn't expected to see.
Syaoran Li dozed in an ancient looking chair near the window. The last few rays of sun fell onto his eyelids and almost managed to erase the dark shadows under them. The Chinese boy had stayed the same in a way that was almost amusing. He was still only a little taller than Sakura would be now, still thin and thick-eyebrowed and awkward. Eriol could almost have laughed.
In his hands Syaoran was clutching a photo album. It was obvious that he'd fallen asleep while looking through it- and really not surprising; he probably hadn't been sleeping much lately. Eriol, curious despite himself, stalked across the attic floor to his chair and attempted to take the book without waking him up.
It didn't work. The brown-haired boy's eyes snapped open and a look of almost abject terror came into his eyes as he failed to recognize Eriol. Clutching the book like it was a child, he hissed wordlessly in anger.
"Don't worry," Eriol said, taking a few careful steps back and talking soothingly as if to a pet. "I'm not going to hurt you. It's Eriol. Hiiragizawa Eriol."
Syaoran, after taking a moment to fully wake up, scowled at him. "I knew that." he muttered sheepishly.
Adopting the tone he usually took when talking to Syaoran- mildly superior, affectionate, and calculated to annoy his cute relation- Eriol smiled at him. "You don't look very happy, Li-kun. And after I came all the way to Tomoeda just to see your lovely face."
"... Leave me alone." responded Syaoran as he turned away to face the window. It didn't really look like any more conversation was forthcoming, so Eriol shrugged and opened the nearest box to look for the clothing.
After a moment of rummaging, he found serviceable jeans and a shirt. Syaoran very pointedly didn't look as he changed and folded the clothes he'd been wearing. At least it fit- it would, considering that Fujitaka would have looked like Eriol when he was this age.
Syaoran turned from the window and muttered an unintelligible question. Eriol turned to look at him and managed a rather sincere smile. "Sorry, didn't catch that. What did you say?"
"I said..." repeated the brunette, avoiding looking at him, "why are you here?"
Pausing to think, Eriol frowned slightly before realizing himself and smiling even brighter and faker.
"Well, you've got me there. I don't really know myself."
***
Dinner was quiet. Eriol and Fujitaka had attempted conversation once or twice, but the silence radiating from the other occupant of the table was so thick that it was difficult to speak. The meal was simple. He was sitting where Sakura had. What was there to talk about?
Nadeshiko came in, balancing a plate of cookies on one spectral hand. Not surprisingly she hadn't changed much in the three years since he'd seen her last. She beamed and put the cookies on the table as if it was a great accomplishment. "It's hard to cook and carry things when you're not really here," she said with a giggle.
"Oh!" exclaimed Eriol. "Nadeshiko-san... Hello. How are you?"
The angelic figure burst into even worse giggles. "Dead." she responded cheerfully, idly wrapping her arms around Fujitaka. "No, no, I'm fine. It gets easier all the time, to visit and to act normally... And you, Eriol-kun?"
"I'm doing well." responded Eriol. It wasn't entirely true, but then telling the truth had never really been his thing. "And how is it up there? Anything big going on?"
Fujitaka smiled and shook his head. "You're still at that? I don't think she's ever going to tell you about it, Eriol-kun, you've been trying for as long as she's known you and it's gotten you nowhere."
"Can I help it if I have an inquiring mind?" asked Eriol amusedly. "Besides, I'm sure we'd all sleep safer at night knowing what life after death is like. Not to mention I could make millions on it."
The conversation continued- little things, safe things. It was hard to remember that the woman was dead. Syaoran, who had been silent as they bantered back and forth, rose from his chair. "Thank you for the food." he said quietly, walking away towards the front door.
Nadeshiko bit her lip as she stared after him. "I'm worried about that boy. It's not healthy to be so reserved." she whispered, serious for the first time in the conversation. "Eriol-kun, do promise me you'll try to talk to him. I don't really know why..." A pause, slight unwillingness to speak her daughter's name, "... Why she left, but she's gone and he needs to accept that."
Fujitaka sighed tiredly. "Sometimes I think he depended on Sakura-chan a bit too much," he muttered, running his fingers through his wife's hair.
"I don't know if he'll listen to me, even if I do talk to him." responded Eriol with a cynical smile. "He doesn't like me. He's never gotten over the fact that I used to cozy up to Sakura-san; nevermind that it was nine years or so ago and I didn't really mean it."
Nadeshiko smiled back and raised an eyebrow. "'Cozy up', Eriol-kun?" she asked amusedly. "I'm not sure I like the idea of you getting fresh with my little girl."
"It was a long time ago!" mock-protested Eriol. "I have nothing but the best intentions towards Sakura-san, I assure you!" He sighed. "All that aside, the point remains- he hates me and he's not going to listen to me."
"I don't know about that." mused Nadeshiko slowly. "Some things it's better to hear from someone you don't like. Preferable, even. Not as hard to cope with."
Fujitaka turned to her in surprise, and then grinned. "When did you get so smart, Nadeshiko-san?" he asked playfully, tugging on her cheek as she giggled. "What happened to the sweet little airhead I used to know?"
"She died, of course." responded Nadeshiko. The woman went blank for a moment, as if listening to someone, and then smiled sheepishly. "I have to go now." she murmured. "Take care of yourself until next time, Eriol-kun."
"I will." responded the black haired boy. "And I'll try to cheer him up a bit... But I still think it might be a better idea to get Tomoyo-san or somebody other than me to do it."
"Maybe, maybe not." the angel woman said flippantly. She circled around Fujitaka's chair and leaned into the hollow of his neck. "I love you." she whispered into his ear.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her shoulders as her body began to disappear. "And I you."
***
Eriol made his way up the stairs, paging through his knowledge of the house for a suitable bedroom. Sakura and Syaoran would be bedding there, Fujitaka there, and that left one other room for him to claim... Pleased, he walked into his temporary bedroom.
To find it belonged to Syaoran. The room was painted red and almost completely empty, one window and a dresser and precious little else. On the dresser was a picture- Syaoran and Sakura, a carnival photo, she beaming and he with a protective arm around her shoulder. The bed took up almost half the room but gave the impression that only one person ever slept in it. And that person was curled up in fetal position at one end of the bed.
Before Eriol could say anything, Syaoran sprang up off the pillow and stared at him with the fierce intensity of a wild animal. "Why are you in my room?" he growled, like Eriol had seen something he shouldn't have.
"I needed a room for the night." replied Eriol, attempting what he hoped was a calming smile. "I thought this room would be empty. You and Sakura-san didn't share a room, then?"
"No." muttered Syaoran, flushing and turning his face to the wall.
The other boy smiled. "Alright, then. My mistake. I'll have to sleep in Sakura-san's room."
"No!" yelled Syaoran suddenly, whipping around and looking as though he had every intention of killing Eriol right then and there. He then blinked as if he hadn't quite meant to say that. "Uh... I mean... No. Don't stay in there. I don't want someone like you getting into her stuff."
"Well," asked Eriol, slightly impatient, "where else am I going to stay tonight?"
Syaoran bit his lip and grimaced. "In here," he muttered in a voice which stated clearly that he didn't like doing this at all. "You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
"You can take the bed." said Eriol politely. "I'm just fine on the floor."
The Chinese boy sighed, apparently having decided that if he was going to martyr himself like this he might as well do it all the way. "No." he responded sulkily. "You can take the bed. Really. Go ahead." So take it before I make you, his eyes said.
Eriol shrugged. "Alright, then. But only if you agree to switch places tomorrow night, Li-kun." He pulled a pillow from the bed, pulling off his glasses and attempting to make himself comfortable on the carpet. He'd slept on floors plenty of times before.
"It's... cold down there." muttered Syaoran sheepishly, tossing him a sheet and turning off the light before settling back into bed. "Goodnight." he added as an afterthought.
Eriol nodded. "Thank you." He whispered. "Goodnight."
Later that night, in the moonlit darkness, he could hear Syaoran crying in his sleep. It was a sound like an animal's howl and vaguely unnerving.
***
Going, going, gone. Halfway across the world she hummed softly to the radio and pondered the frailties of the human heart over a cup of coffee. Rainclouds were forming outside the house.
"Hey, Kero-chan..." she started. "Do you think that I was right?"
"How am I supposed to know?" he asked, turning briefly away from the video game he was currently playing. "It was your decision. Maybe I wish you hadn't done it, Sakura-chan, but I'm with you all the way."
"Nevermind. I was just wondering about it."
She turned to the window, nails drumming against the glass, and gave a contentedly bitter sigh. She had hoped that America would be warmer this time of year. "I was wearing the nicest dress that day, you know. Tomoyo-chan made it for me, and it was blue and sort of frilly. I can remember every detail."
I just want to say hello again, sang the radio in the background.
END OF 1/3
AN: And here we have the fanfic that officially Ate My Brain. It was started due to my sorrows at finding nothing but hetfic in the CCS section, and while hetfic is all well and good and usually canon, it just didn't seem fair. So here we have either a tragic S+S or a rather bittersweet E+S. That's Eriol/Syaoran, folks, and while there's not much of it in this part there will be. Part one of three, simply for my own convinience. Manga continuity. Nine or ten years post series. Nadeshiko's part is rather out of place. Aside from the guitar intro, I don't like this song all that much. I don't think this would happen. I'm a devout S+S fan, so don't hit me too hard. Writing relationship mystery is fun, isn't it?
MY SACRIFICE
1: WE WEET AGAIN
Going, going, gone.
She had packed her bags earlier that day; stuffed what she was taking in with plenty of room for breathing; left a little note on the kitchen counter; given her forwarding address to the one person she trusted not to give it out freely. She had taken only what she couldn't stand to leave behind- and some things that she wished could come with her were still here. Now, like a thief in the night, she was leaving.
Her feet padded softly on the carpeted hall. She stopped, left her bags at the door, and ran back one last time. The very last time she would ever see the house she had bought what seemed like forever ago.
Her hands, warm and graceful yet, brushed over everything from the walls to the toaster to the armchair near the fireplace. The lump in her throat was expanding slowly and threatening to betray her- the inhabitants of the house tended to sleep light. She crept upstairs, padded to one of the doors, turned the knob as lightly as she could possibly touch it.
He was sleeping soundly for the first time in ages. Breathing deep and even, stray strands of hair brushing over his forehead, chest rising and falling in perfect balance. He looked like a painting- the sheets were unrumpled, the moonlight from the window casting shadows on his face. On the dresser was a picture taken that summer, standing alone like a shrine.
She turned it face-down and turned to him, longing for the assurance that she could safely touch him without waking him up. As it was she could barely speak. Her eyes went wet, and for a moment she wondered if it would really be so bad to just stay and let things be the way they were...
But she forced herself to glance at the unseen photograph, and her eyes hardened again in resolve. She was doing the right thing. For his sake and for her own. This had to stop, somehow, and it was up to her to put things right. He would live.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as she stared at his face one last time. "I just couldn't be your god..."
She left the room as her feelings threatened to overpower her logic. Taking the stairs two at a time like a child, hopping to the door, grabbing her bags and stepping out into the chill of the autumn night.
The moon, full in another week, shone down and bathed her with light. It was almost holy, standing there alone with the white coat she'd been given for her eighteenth birthday, with the moon warming her and giving her a silver-blue blessing. She took a deep breath, night air whispering in her nostrils, and stepped out onto the street.
And Kinomoto Sakura left.
***
Eriol had been sitting outside the airport for some time, folding an autumn-gold leaf into even parts to occupy his hands, before a sleek black limo pulled up and Daidouji Tomoyo emerged.
She hadn't changed much in the few years since he'd last been to Tomoeda. Her hair was still long, held up in a loose deep maroon-coloured braid that made her look almost childish. She wore a tight fitting business suit now, in deference to her position. Her eyes, Eriol noted, were the same as always- gentle and warm and giving away almost nothing.
Tomoyo recognized his gaze and smiled. "You haven't changed either, Eriol-kun," she started softly. "I'm nineteen now, in case you were going to ask. The same as you. Well, the same as that body of yours, at least."
"Don't worry," responded Eriol. "I remember. It's been quite a while, hasn't it, Tomoyo-san? Three years or so since I last visited Japan?"
She nodded. "About that." As she sized him up, her face drew into a genuine smile- an initiation of mental truce. "It's good to see you again, Eriol-kun." Her chauffeur opened the limo door for both of them, and she beckoned him to get in.
The two seated themselves and the car started off. Tomoyo offered him a glass of water (she didn't drink, he knew that) and sipped politely as they talked.
"So," he started. "I'm sure a lot of things have happened in three years, even in a small town like this- your fashion line is selling well, isn't it?" She nodded. "That's good to hear. I've seen it in some of the upscale places in London. It's very nice, really, even if you do seem to have a penchant for ribbons. How is Sakura-san?"
Tomoyo, who had previously been nodding and smiling, sobered as if there was a raincloud over her head. "Sakura-chan is..." she started slowly. "Sakura-chan is gone. She moved to America a few weeks ago."
Eriol gave her a sympathetic and slightly confused smile. "And she didn't tell me? Tomoyo-san, are you joking?"
"She didn't tell anyone," responded Tomoyo. Her eyes were almost too bright, if you deigned to look closely. "She left a note and went in the middle of the night. She said she found a good college and she'll be staying in the dorm. She took Kero-chan with her."
"But... why?" he asked, almost nervous. Sakura always had some kind of reasoning for what she did, but this- what could happen that would send her so far away from her hometown?
Tomoyo offered him a weak smile. "I told you. She found a good college. That was all she left on her note. I do have a forwarding address... But it's classified information. She doesn't want many people knowing, she says. They might want to visit."
"I see." Eriol adjusted his glasses, brow furrowing slightly. "That's unfortunate to hear. How's Li-kun taking it? Not well, I suppose."
She sighed and shook her head, leaning back into her seat. "Awful." she responded. "Even before she left, Sakura-chan was the only one who could really bring him out to talk... Now that she's gone, he's shut up into himself completely. Nobody knows where he is half the time. He's not going to his classes, and Kinomoto-san says he only comes home for meals."
"Oh?" Eriol responded. "Fujitaka-san? How is he?"
And so they talked. Sakura had bought the house that Eriol used to live in. She'd been living there with her father and Syaoran- Touya and Yukito were travelling. Rika and Terada-sensei were married; Chiharu and Takeshi were dating. Sakura's magic had been getting steadily stronger since he'd last seen her. She'd remarked to Tomoyo only a month or so ago that she'd been using the Clow Cards to keep an eye on Tomoeda. The subject of Syaoran they left well alone.
"And what about on your end, Eriol-kun?" she asked him after they'd exhausted the subject of life at home. "You're keeping Nakuru-san and Spinel in England, I guess, you told me as much over the phone- what have you been doing in the last few years?"
"I'm doing odd magic jobs." he replied. "Research and such. I'm thinking of writing a book, maybe- money's not an issue, Clow kept plenty in the bank."
"How's Kaho?"
***
She'd told him it was for the best.
"I'm old," she'd said, laughing as tears slipped from her eyes. "I'm old and I'll be even older before the end. You know I love you, but in this case that doesn't matter. Where will we be in ten years? I don't know how you'll treat me... I don't know how I'll treat you. For all of our similarities, Eriol, I don't think it'll work. I have to say goodbye."
He'd been furious. It was the only time he could ever remember being angry. It had rained- lighting, high wind, the weather itself mirroring his feelings- the sheer force of his emotion had shattered the dishes and brought shelves to the floor. Ruby and Spinel had been absolutely terrified.
It wasn't her he blamed. It was himself. He should have known better than to expect so much. Maybe she was right, or maybe not. The fact remained that he loved her and she was gone. Nothing could change that.
So he came to Tomoeda. He didn't know what he would do, or where he would stay, or where he would go after he left. There wasn't anywhere else he could go.
***
"We broke up." he responded quickly. "I don't know where she is. We haven't kept in touch."
Tomoyo winced. "I didn't see that coming. I'm sorry."
He waved his hand in a brief dismissal of the subject. "It's fine. I'm feeling better now that I'm back in Tomoeda." He blinked as the limo stopped, and looked out to see his old house. "Why are we stopping here, Tomoyo-san?"
"Well, I assumed that you would stay here- Kinomoto-san's not going to mind, and the only hotels around here are the kind you don't go to alone. And none of them are in town, either." She smiled cheerfully and gestured towards the door as though that settled it.
Raise of an eyebrow. "Tomoyo-san, I'm rather hurt. Naturally I thought that you would be kind enough to let me stay with you."
"I would," she started, laughing, "but I don't think Naoko-chan would approve. Out you go."
Eriol opened the door before the name really registered in his mind, stepped out onto the sidewalk, and did a doubletake. "Naoko?" The limo had already driven off, and Tomoyo with it, before he could inquire as to why exactly she was staying with the ghost story girl.
Shaking his head, he walked to the porch and rang the doorbell. It opened to a cheerful smile and an apron. Kinomoto Fujitaka was still good looking, although greying around the temples, and excessively likeable. "Eriol-kun!" he greeted. "I'd heard you were coming back."
"That's right. You look well, Kinomoto-san." Old speech habits were hard to break, even when talking to someone who was for all purposes one's twin brother. "I'm sorry to impose, but may I stay here while I'm visiting?"
Another beaming smile. "Of course! You're not imposing at all, Eriol-kun. Come in! Can I carry your bagga... oh, where's your baggage?"
Eriol looked down to his side, where his luggage should have been, and realized suddenly that the fact that had been nagging at him since he left England was that he had left his luggage behind him. It seemed that Kaho's forgetful nature had been wearing off on him all those years.
He stepped into the house, taking his shoes off, and glanced nervously at Fujitaka. "I guess I forgot it back home. Pretty stupid of me, don't you think?" A worried laugh. "I don't suppose you have any clothing I could borrow until I can go and buy some?"
Sakura's father thought for a moment. "Hm. I'd offer Syaoran-kun's clothing, but I think it would be a bit too small. And of course what Sakura-chan left behind is out of the question. I have some old things up in the attic that I think would fit you. Feel free to wear them."
"Thank you very much." replied Eriol, nodding his head respectfully. "I really am very sorry."
Fujitaka laughed. "Don't think about it. I don't quite understand you that well, Eriol-kun... But you're welcome in this house. And I've always been grateful for that magic you gave me."
Eriol shook his head. "I was glad to give it up, Kinomoto-san. You don't need to thank me." Offering one last small smile, he walked up the old stairs. Stepping over the ones that creaked- there were more than there had been nine years ago- he made his way into the attic.
Dust assailed his lungs as he climbed up into the stuffy room. The only light came from the window; he smiled and quickly admired the tone of almost-sunset sky. His eyes fell onto someone he hadn't expected to see.
Syaoran Li dozed in an ancient looking chair near the window. The last few rays of sun fell onto his eyelids and almost managed to erase the dark shadows under them. The Chinese boy had stayed the same in a way that was almost amusing. He was still only a little taller than Sakura would be now, still thin and thick-eyebrowed and awkward. Eriol could almost have laughed.
In his hands Syaoran was clutching a photo album. It was obvious that he'd fallen asleep while looking through it- and really not surprising; he probably hadn't been sleeping much lately. Eriol, curious despite himself, stalked across the attic floor to his chair and attempted to take the book without waking him up.
It didn't work. The brown-haired boy's eyes snapped open and a look of almost abject terror came into his eyes as he failed to recognize Eriol. Clutching the book like it was a child, he hissed wordlessly in anger.
"Don't worry," Eriol said, taking a few careful steps back and talking soothingly as if to a pet. "I'm not going to hurt you. It's Eriol. Hiiragizawa Eriol."
Syaoran, after taking a moment to fully wake up, scowled at him. "I knew that." he muttered sheepishly.
Adopting the tone he usually took when talking to Syaoran- mildly superior, affectionate, and calculated to annoy his cute relation- Eriol smiled at him. "You don't look very happy, Li-kun. And after I came all the way to Tomoeda just to see your lovely face."
"... Leave me alone." responded Syaoran as he turned away to face the window. It didn't really look like any more conversation was forthcoming, so Eriol shrugged and opened the nearest box to look for the clothing.
After a moment of rummaging, he found serviceable jeans and a shirt. Syaoran very pointedly didn't look as he changed and folded the clothes he'd been wearing. At least it fit- it would, considering that Fujitaka would have looked like Eriol when he was this age.
Syaoran turned from the window and muttered an unintelligible question. Eriol turned to look at him and managed a rather sincere smile. "Sorry, didn't catch that. What did you say?"
"I said..." repeated the brunette, avoiding looking at him, "why are you here?"
Pausing to think, Eriol frowned slightly before realizing himself and smiling even brighter and faker.
"Well, you've got me there. I don't really know myself."
***
Dinner was quiet. Eriol and Fujitaka had attempted conversation once or twice, but the silence radiating from the other occupant of the table was so thick that it was difficult to speak. The meal was simple. He was sitting where Sakura had. What was there to talk about?
Nadeshiko came in, balancing a plate of cookies on one spectral hand. Not surprisingly she hadn't changed much in the three years since he'd seen her last. She beamed and put the cookies on the table as if it was a great accomplishment. "It's hard to cook and carry things when you're not really here," she said with a giggle.
"Oh!" exclaimed Eriol. "Nadeshiko-san... Hello. How are you?"
The angelic figure burst into even worse giggles. "Dead." she responded cheerfully, idly wrapping her arms around Fujitaka. "No, no, I'm fine. It gets easier all the time, to visit and to act normally... And you, Eriol-kun?"
"I'm doing well." responded Eriol. It wasn't entirely true, but then telling the truth had never really been his thing. "And how is it up there? Anything big going on?"
Fujitaka smiled and shook his head. "You're still at that? I don't think she's ever going to tell you about it, Eriol-kun, you've been trying for as long as she's known you and it's gotten you nowhere."
"Can I help it if I have an inquiring mind?" asked Eriol amusedly. "Besides, I'm sure we'd all sleep safer at night knowing what life after death is like. Not to mention I could make millions on it."
The conversation continued- little things, safe things. It was hard to remember that the woman was dead. Syaoran, who had been silent as they bantered back and forth, rose from his chair. "Thank you for the food." he said quietly, walking away towards the front door.
Nadeshiko bit her lip as she stared after him. "I'm worried about that boy. It's not healthy to be so reserved." she whispered, serious for the first time in the conversation. "Eriol-kun, do promise me you'll try to talk to him. I don't really know why..." A pause, slight unwillingness to speak her daughter's name, "... Why she left, but she's gone and he needs to accept that."
Fujitaka sighed tiredly. "Sometimes I think he depended on Sakura-chan a bit too much," he muttered, running his fingers through his wife's hair.
"I don't know if he'll listen to me, even if I do talk to him." responded Eriol with a cynical smile. "He doesn't like me. He's never gotten over the fact that I used to cozy up to Sakura-san; nevermind that it was nine years or so ago and I didn't really mean it."
Nadeshiko smiled back and raised an eyebrow. "'Cozy up', Eriol-kun?" she asked amusedly. "I'm not sure I like the idea of you getting fresh with my little girl."
"It was a long time ago!" mock-protested Eriol. "I have nothing but the best intentions towards Sakura-san, I assure you!" He sighed. "All that aside, the point remains- he hates me and he's not going to listen to me."
"I don't know about that." mused Nadeshiko slowly. "Some things it's better to hear from someone you don't like. Preferable, even. Not as hard to cope with."
Fujitaka turned to her in surprise, and then grinned. "When did you get so smart, Nadeshiko-san?" he asked playfully, tugging on her cheek as she giggled. "What happened to the sweet little airhead I used to know?"
"She died, of course." responded Nadeshiko. The woman went blank for a moment, as if listening to someone, and then smiled sheepishly. "I have to go now." she murmured. "Take care of yourself until next time, Eriol-kun."
"I will." responded the black haired boy. "And I'll try to cheer him up a bit... But I still think it might be a better idea to get Tomoyo-san or somebody other than me to do it."
"Maybe, maybe not." the angel woman said flippantly. She circled around Fujitaka's chair and leaned into the hollow of his neck. "I love you." she whispered into his ear.
He smiled and wrapped his arms around her shoulders as her body began to disappear. "And I you."
***
Eriol made his way up the stairs, paging through his knowledge of the house for a suitable bedroom. Sakura and Syaoran would be bedding there, Fujitaka there, and that left one other room for him to claim... Pleased, he walked into his temporary bedroom.
To find it belonged to Syaoran. The room was painted red and almost completely empty, one window and a dresser and precious little else. On the dresser was a picture- Syaoran and Sakura, a carnival photo, she beaming and he with a protective arm around her shoulder. The bed took up almost half the room but gave the impression that only one person ever slept in it. And that person was curled up in fetal position at one end of the bed.
Before Eriol could say anything, Syaoran sprang up off the pillow and stared at him with the fierce intensity of a wild animal. "Why are you in my room?" he growled, like Eriol had seen something he shouldn't have.
"I needed a room for the night." replied Eriol, attempting what he hoped was a calming smile. "I thought this room would be empty. You and Sakura-san didn't share a room, then?"
"No." muttered Syaoran, flushing and turning his face to the wall.
The other boy smiled. "Alright, then. My mistake. I'll have to sleep in Sakura-san's room."
"No!" yelled Syaoran suddenly, whipping around and looking as though he had every intention of killing Eriol right then and there. He then blinked as if he hadn't quite meant to say that. "Uh... I mean... No. Don't stay in there. I don't want someone like you getting into her stuff."
"Well," asked Eriol, slightly impatient, "where else am I going to stay tonight?"
Syaoran bit his lip and grimaced. "In here," he muttered in a voice which stated clearly that he didn't like doing this at all. "You can have the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."
"You can take the bed." said Eriol politely. "I'm just fine on the floor."
The Chinese boy sighed, apparently having decided that if he was going to martyr himself like this he might as well do it all the way. "No." he responded sulkily. "You can take the bed. Really. Go ahead." So take it before I make you, his eyes said.
Eriol shrugged. "Alright, then. But only if you agree to switch places tomorrow night, Li-kun." He pulled a pillow from the bed, pulling off his glasses and attempting to make himself comfortable on the carpet. He'd slept on floors plenty of times before.
"It's... cold down there." muttered Syaoran sheepishly, tossing him a sheet and turning off the light before settling back into bed. "Goodnight." he added as an afterthought.
Eriol nodded. "Thank you." He whispered. "Goodnight."
Later that night, in the moonlit darkness, he could hear Syaoran crying in his sleep. It was a sound like an animal's howl and vaguely unnerving.
***
Going, going, gone. Halfway across the world she hummed softly to the radio and pondered the frailties of the human heart over a cup of coffee. Rainclouds were forming outside the house.
"Hey, Kero-chan..." she started. "Do you think that I was right?"
"How am I supposed to know?" he asked, turning briefly away from the video game he was currently playing. "It was your decision. Maybe I wish you hadn't done it, Sakura-chan, but I'm with you all the way."
"Nevermind. I was just wondering about it."
She turned to the window, nails drumming against the glass, and gave a contentedly bitter sigh. She had hoped that America would be warmer this time of year. "I was wearing the nicest dress that day, you know. Tomoyo-chan made it for me, and it was blue and sort of frilly. I can remember every detail."
I just want to say hello again, sang the radio in the background.
END OF 1/3