Hello, folks!
Well, I've got a few confessions to make. The first is that this is probably breaking canon, but if it is, I honestly don't know where. I've completely lost track of Tsubasa canon and now rely on web summaries to try to figure out what's going on. Of course, I never had that great a grasp on it in the first place - sometimes some manga just loses me somewhere and I miss a few vital pieces and it all goes haywire for me - but Tsubasa is interesting enough in general theme that it's still got my attention, at least now and again. Considering I usually bend canon many ways anyway, this doesn't bother ME too much, but as a forewarning.
Second, for those who have read my stories previously, I said I avoid angst. Well, I'm getting away from that for this one. I was feeling particularly down tonight, and this is what came out. For some reason, I only seem to publish my Tsubasa 'fics, so this one actually gets published. Don't worry, I've got an aftermath scenario that's a lot less angsty than this one, and I might even actually write it someday, or parts of it, anyway. Honest.
Third, some might argue that this is incomplete. If it is, there's a better-than-even chance it always will be. You can take it as a whole standalone and leave completing it to a mental exercise. Maybe I'll figure out a way to wrap it up, either in a short or long manner, one day, though considering my glacial pace at this sort of thing that may not be happening. I'd encourage you to read it and review. RL has gotten nasty for me so my time is even more limited than it used to be, but, hey, it might provide me with the proper motivation to actually finish this sucker if reviews push me that way. No promises, though.
Finally - my profuse appologies to those of my readers who read my work and posted reviews, and for which I never posted reviews in return. I'll get to it someday, I swear. I'll also take this opportunity to thank the lot of you - I still look with pride over the reviews for Naive, Not Stupid (darn system ate that comma, bleh), and try to figure out how I can continue it... well, maybe someday, but chances are if I ever get around to writing my 'real' aftermath story/stories, they'll be in the same continuity, and Truce almost certainly is already, so... yeah.
As for the clone Syaoran/real Syaoran thing here... I'm ignoring it, but at the moment it's vague enough that you could probably argue either way whether it happened or not, or if something along the lines of Broken Arrow (another fic of mine) happened. But enough rambling, onto the 'fic.
Disclaimer: Tsubasa is not owned by me. If it was, Syaoran would have had me killed after this through lucrative connections with the mafia, and I'd probably deserve it.
It was over.
And in a way, so was he.
He'd fought so many monsters - both literal monstrosities and humans with far more darkness in their hearts than any beast from Hell. He'd faced the horrors of his own origin. He'd stared death in the face, and when it went after his throat, he got it in the chest.
And this was his reward, for destroying Fei Wong, saving countless worlds, and retrieving Sakura's feathers... an empty hallway and an empty heart.
"She'll be happy now."
One might think that Syaoran had begun to talk to himself, as he spoke to an empty corridor... unless they could see as he could, now. The invisible presence of Yuko being impossible for him to ignore. The Time Witch sought to speak with him, and he saw no reason to deny it to her.
"Are you so sure of that?" replied the woman's familiar voice - a woman who was both friend and foe to him and his companions throughout his journey.
"She can't remember me at all now..." Syaoran took a glance down the empty corridor, seeing a form that had manifested, one that only he could see, a projection of Yuko from across the universes. "...considering what's happened... maybe it's better that way." He tried to keep his emotions neutral - and did a fairly good job of it. The aftermath hit so hard that he was actually numb, now - something he was grateful for, even if it wasn't to last. He'd paid the price of Sakura's relationship with him twice - both times ripped from his grasp and her soul, even as he tried so hard to rebuild and protect it.
Yuko nodded slightly towards the brown-haired youth, on some level surprised that he was even willing to talk to her after all that had happened. Then again, considering how crushed he was, and that the journey was over, his companions gone or about to leave... perhaps he needed someone - anyone - who would actually listen.
"What will you do now?"
A pause from Syaoran as he considered his next words. He was a guest in the royal palace - a place that held so many memories for him, happy times with Sakura, times he knew she'd never remember again, barring a miracle. That they'd survived was enough of a miracle for Syaoran to realize he was rather in the universe's debt, or at least that's how he saw it, and as such he wasn't terribly inclined to push his luck, especially having little to push with. High wizardry of the mind was hardly something that the young warrior knew much of, even if he was a force to be reckoned with in offensive spellcasting.
Dry lips and drier tongue curled to form his next words, after a long pause, which seemed all the much longer to him. "I don't know."
He turned back towards Yuko, looking her translucent form straight in the eye. "I can't stay here. She's..." he shook his head. "...it hurts... every time I see her." He clenched his fist, a little of the bitterness seeping out. "Kurogane is going home... Mokona's probably going with you... and Fai seems to have dropped off of the face of the Earth." He wasn't sure what that wizard had gone off to do, though he suspected it would be some time before he saw him again, a thought which did not make Syaoran happy, even if he knew that Fai was doing what he felt he had to.
A glance to the ground. "I can't be an archaeologist here... I don't think I could deal with seeing her again. Not like this... and I..."
"You've paid, Syaoran." said Yuko quietly. She was mercurial in nature, but not entirely so; she had empathy for the boy. "You've avoided paying a price I thought you'd pay at the beginning... and perhaps paid a far greater price." She paused for a moment. "You can let her go, Syaoran. You've done far more than she ever had a right to ask."
Syaoran whipped his head back around. "Don't SAY that!" he exclaimed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "She -- "
"-- was your whole world. But she can't be anymore, and you've saved her." Yuko said quietly, with the patience of a being who had lived far, far longer than Syaoran had. "You've paid any debt you had to her, Syaoran... and now you have to pay a debt to yourself. You've got a right to try to find your place in this world, or another."
Syaoran's gaze had since drifted to his feet as he considered quietly. "It's going to be this one, then..." he smirked gently. "I've nothing to pay you with to get me off world, Yuko."
A quirk of a brow. "Not true."
Syaoran glanced up. He wasn't overly interested in leaving this world - he had no idea what good it would get him - but he also had no idea what he could possibly offer the witch that he hadn't already given up. His memories of Sakura, or perhaps of his father? A body part? His very life? Sakura herself? The possibilities were numerous, and none of them made Syaoran terribly happy; he'd already paid enough.
And Yuko knew this, as she raised a hand. "Not... something you would pay, per se." She looked at him dead in the eye. "Listen to me carefully, Syaoran."
The archaeologist turned warrior turned wanderer nodded once, slightly, uncertain as to why he was... but at the moment, what did he have to lose? Yuko didn't force her bargains on anyone - he knew that if he needed to he could just tell the witch where to stuff it and be on his way.
"There are many in this world... and in many other worlds... that need help." Yuko said calmly, as she examined one of the curios from her shop quietly. "They need help physically, spiritually, mentally... in any number of ways. Far, far too many for anyone to ever be able to reach them all..."
Syaoran listened, uncertain how to reply, or if at all, but she wasn't done yet after the pause, apparently to let it sink into Syaoran's mind for a moment.
"But you've got a unique set of skills and experiences. You've traveled the dimensions for over a year, you've fought in battles that you could not imagine before. You've used technologies you couldn't dream of. Magics you once held in awe you can summon at will as though they were simple as breathing. You've beaten beings at their own games, and adapted to every challenge. You are a true multidimensional traveler. There are those that only someone such as yourself could possibly help, and there are very, very few of you. Fei Wong is far from the only threat to the multiverse; some dwarf him in potential, and others may not be as powerful, but to their victims that makes no difference whatsoever. Broken and destroyed by a local bully is no better than broken and destroyed by a transdimensional tyrant."
"I won't lie to you, Syaoran," she continued, her translucent form taking a few steps towards him. "And I know you know this as well. I'm a mercenary. I'm in this for profit. But even I am not unmoved by the plight of those who have far less power than you or I... and perhaps it's old fashioned of me... but I'd like to help them."
"...and..." Syaoran spoke... but Yuko raised her hand silently.
"Come work for me." she said quietly. "Room, board and travel could easily be counted among your pay, as well as... karmic credit, I suppose you could say. Look on it as down payment on a wish, if you aren't feeling particularly charitable just now. You may be able to have more of an effect on the universe than you'd think. You'd travel with Mokona, of course... and at least at first it would be the two of you. But in time, you might acquire new companions, new friends. And perhaps you can find for yourself the answers that you're searching for... where you belong in this vast conglomerate of dimensions. What your role is, beyond the slayer of the monster that crushed your best friend's memory. And if nothing else, you'll put your skills to good use for people who can't do what you can."
Syaoran was silent for a bit. He inhaled quietly.
He glanced back down the hallway - the vast passage was deserted, but he knew what was down there. The quarters of the royal family... and one brown-red-haired girl. One who would never remember him. One who would never remember their adventure together. One for whom he may as well never have existed.
What did he have here?... what was Yuko offering him?...
He recalled someone once saying that the biggest decisions in your life, you'd make with only seconds to do it in, and you'd do it with the least amount of information. He wasn't sure how true that was, but he could certainly see that writer's point.
He looked back at Yuko... who watched patiently. Though the slightest bit of a smile crossed her features as she saw Syaoran's eyes grow steely.
"I've got nothing left for me here." he says. "I don't know what to do with myself... but I think my chances of finding out are better if I go with you."
A nod from Yuko. The audible sound of a hop-CLANG! Hop-CLANG! Hop-CLANG! Could be heard from a side passage, and Syaoran turned...
"...Mokona?"
"Mphl!" said the bizarre being, who held Syaoran's sword in his mouth, and carried his backpack with him on what passed for his back. Syaoran didn't ask why he didn't use his magic to move them - but sometimes, as he'd learned often in his travels, sometimes the best thing to do is not to ask questions.
The sound of a spit was audible as Syaoran's weapon clattered to the ground in its sheathe. "I brought your sword!" The team's 'mascot' chirped happily. Syaoran cracked a bit of a smile as he knelt down to accept the weapon, strapping it to his belt. He began to inspect the bag quietly. "What did you put together in here?..."
"Just a few things you might need."
A quick inspection found that this was true - water bottle, sleeping bag, rain slick, covering for the desert... and then one thing stopped him, freezing for an instant where he knelt down to examine the bag, a bit of color flashing out from underneath one of the miscellaneous tools... he pushed them away.
It was glossy, and as Syaoran could feel, magically fortified against damage... and he could easily recognize it.
A picture.
Photograph, specifically, is what they'd called it on the other world. It was a day at an amusement park on their journey. Sakura, carrying one of those huge teddy bears, had a blushing Syaoran snagged by an arm. Kurogane, irritated as usual, had somehow been irritated into submission as Mokona hopped up and down atop his head, with Fai laughing at the sight.
It was probably one of the happier moments in the last year, Syoran quietly noted to himself... and there were many emotions.
Anger was the first... no, not anger. RAGE. Most people would be incredibly frustrated and angry with someone for forgetting all about them; Syaoran seemed to have been an exception. But he cared for Sakura's wellbeing too much to let even the slightest bit of that slip... but now that it was over, it returned with a vengeance and then some. He was surprised at the venom he felt towards the girl he loved so dearly, but it was deep and powerful, even if his love for her outweighed it greatly.
...that did not change the second emotion... sadness. Sadness for what would almost certainly never be again. Never again would Kurogane and Mokona squabble. Never again would Fai's nuggets of wisdom be dispensed over a campfire. Never again would ninja and wizard butt heads against each other, avoiding acknowledging the brotherly bond that had manifest between the two. Never again would Kurogane train Syaoran (and occasionally Sakura) in the martial ways, or Fai tutor them in magic. And never again would he lie by a campfire with Sakura, feeling her asleep on his chest, or wander in some kind of festival with her as everything went on around them, or just sat beside her quietly, both of them not-so-innocently letting their hands or legs brush up against one another in a manner that their teenage hormones ensured wasn't entirely wholesome, but no less sincere.
...but finally... it settled on another emotion... the most potent.
Gratitude.
He treasured these people and memories... and, he thought to himself, with bitterness deep in his heart that he could not disguise anymore, he would do his best to avoid stepping on infernally-charged wing seals to avoid losing them.
"Thanks, Mokona." Syaoran said quietly, as he rose to his feet, slinging the pack over his back and turning to Yuko.
"I'm..." he paused, and gave one last glance towards the grand chamber of the palace. "I think I'm ready."
A nod from Yuko. "You do realize, of course... that this may not be the last time you're here, if you don't wish it to be."
Syaoran didn't know if it was or not. Forcing down the lump in his throat that he felt growing, looking towards Yuko's glowing form, he watched as thin air parted like a veil to allow him to pass... and he strode forward, slipping through the hole in reality. And with a flash... he was gone.
He didn't look back.
Which was good, in a way, as a pair of emerald eyes peeked out from behind a pillar, watching things unfold. Her own abilities with magic gave her a hazy, barely-there view of the outline of... something. The fragmented, garbled words... they had little meaning to her... but this boy, whoever it was, was... talking to SOMETHING, and then vanished into thin air.
She blinked quietly, walking forward to touch the floor where it had been, attempting to detect... something. She wasn't sure what, and save for a few residual bits of magical energy she found nothing, as though the woman's image, the boy, and the strange creature hadn't even been there.
She pondered to herself for a moment. Strange things had happened, and she'd not... been certain of WHAT. In fact, the holes in her memory and how little she'd been told... she rubbed her chin quietly.
"...I wonder if I should tell Yukito about this..." she whispered aloud to herself as she headed back the way she came - uncertain why this seemed to fascinate her so, other than the blatant security breach, but as she hadn't even felt an impulse to summon the guards... she knew that something else about this overrode that reflex entirely. "Maybe I'm just seeing things..." she murmured to herself, continuing to debate this as she walked down the corridor, leaving the hallway to fall into silence.
Like it? Hate it? Go on and review. Some might think my portrayal of Syaoran's rage would be out-of-character, but honestly... who wouldn't be pissed off after all that? I know I sure would. Syaoran's an incredibly powerful human, but he's still human, and considering the strain he's under it's sometimes a wonder he hasn't outright snapped from the Sakura-forgetting all by itself.
Thanks for reading this far!