Summary: AU. Sakura knows what the police don't know. She knows the truth. That was no accidental fire that took her family away. But the damage is done. She is left alone—and on the run. Who's a friend? Who means harm? It's so hard to trust anymore... SxS ExT
Full Summary: Sakura has the ideal life. Perfect parents, a protective brother, and loyal friends. Never did the idea cross her mind that her happiness could be destroyed. That is, until it actually happens. Sakura is one of many witnesses of a horrible accident, but the only one who knows the truth. During that moment, sweet Sakura is gone as she adapts to the harsh reality, and in her place is someone else. She becomes distrusting, distant, and withdrawn as she wanders through this empty life, with survival as her only objective. Then, along the way she meets both people who will help her, and people who just want to mess her up more. When she encounters the unfathomable Li Syaoran, so unlike anyone she'd ever met before, will he help her recover? Or will he just make things worse? AU fic. Mainly SxS and ExT
Genre: Romance/Friendship
Disclaimer: I own Cardcaptor Sakura only in my dreams.
F o r g e t – M e – N o t
B y : E n t r a n c i a
Chapter One: Anniversary
The young thrift store volunteer blinked her thickly lined eyes at her next customer. Her mandatory grin faltered, but it was back in an instant. "Here you go," she said, her voice strained. Nozomi, as the cashier's nametag read, handed Sakura her change and a small bag with a t-shirt in it, a huge fake smile plastered on her face. "Have a nice day, sir. Come again."
Sakura flinched. I'll come again when hell freezes over.
Just to prolong their brief touch, therefore bothering the woman even more, she used both hands to collect her change, her bony fingers covering Nozomi's perfect hand. The cashier's smile didn't leave, but she shuddered lightly.
"Thank you so very much," said Sakura, her voice sugary sweet. She raised her head as she spoke, visibly startling the cashier with her vivid green eyes. It didn't seem possible that a person who dressed as plainly as Sakura could have eyes that bright. "I hope you have an absolutely rotten day, Miss," she added with the same exaggerated sweetness.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" asked Nozomi, confused.
Sakura was about to repeat her sentence, this time with malice, but changed her mind. "Goodbye," she said instead.
She walked out of the thrift store six hundred yen lighter, wishing that all of the cashiers in the world would stop saying, "Have a nice day." They didn't mean it, after all. They said it to all of their customers, most likely to seem "friendly" or something. It was probably in the Big Book of Things Cashiers Need to Know.
Chapter Five: Respect. Don't forget to fake courtesy when conversing with customers, although it's perfectly safe to ditch the smile when dealing with chaperoneless children. But always keep the most important rule in mind for both legals and brats: they have money.
She sighed. At least it was better than "Get out of my face, punk." Still, why say it if they didn't mean it?
But what she hated more were the phony smiles they gave her—and everyone else—when they scanned the items she had selected. It made her feel as though they were mocking her.
And, dammit, she was a girl! Just because she had her long hair tucked completely into her hat, that volunteer assumed that she was a sir? Stereotypical pig. Not all girls liked to strut around swinging their hips and swishing their hair. Of course, that cashier didn't know a thing. How could she? She was probably one of those confident, hair-swishing girls.
To everyone, Kinomoto Sakura looked like any other teenage girl—in this case, boy—in Japan, only a little dirtier. Hell, with how teenagers were these days, it was impossible to tell anything.
She dug into a shrub and pulled out the roller blades and backpack she had thrown in there before entering the store. Mustn't let them think that I'd steal anything, Sakura had thought, a small smirk on her face as she tossed her pale pink backpack into the plant. It used to be pink. Now it looked like it had taken a dip in a vat of coffee.
She decided to just carry the roller blades instead of wearing them. She slung the backpack over one shoulder, making a note to throw away some things in there. It was getting somewhat heavy to lug around everywhere.
The t-shirt bought, and another store put on her "Never to Visit Again" list, she ran the two miles to the tree house she saw earlier, hardly breaking a sweat. Thank Kami-sama for physical education, she thought.
The large maple with the rickety tree house came into view when she turned the corner. As she stopped to stare at the great tree, huge even from a distance, someone ran into her, nearly knocking her over. Her backpack slipped off her shoulder, but she held on to the roller blades and t-shirt. She looked up. It was a boy. Her eyes were saucers as she realized that she knew him, recognizing his cold blue eyes and dark complexion.
He sneered at her. "Watch where you're going, bitch." He walked away in an entirely different path towards a group of four girls giggling in Sakura's direction. He obviously did not recognize her or else his reaction would have been completely different. For a crazy moment, Sakura thought about telling him who she was, just to see the look on his face, but quickly decided against it. Scanning the group, she didn't see his sister, which, she decided, was a good thing. There was no telling what Sakura would do if she met that monster of a girl again.
"Bastard. You walked into me, Natsumari," she muttered. She had dropped the honorific she normally would have added to the end of his name long ago. She picked up her backpack, checked it for damages, and, finding none, continued on.
She reached the tree, close enough to see the poor condition of the tree house. It didn't look like it could support her weight. Sakura shrugged inwardly. She'd take the chance. It was the best place she had found in a while. It would provide shelter from the rain. And if she fell through the aged wood and died? Who would miss me? she thought dully. I'm supposed to be dead.
Not trusting the ancient ladder nailed to the trunk of the tree, Sakura threw her roller blades and new shirt into the opening of the house as gently as she could, secured the backpack over both shoulders, and took a running start. Once she neared the tree, she leaped up. She grabbed onto a sturdy-looking branch and swung herself into the house, again thanking Kami, this time for cheerleading.
The tree house, although seeming haphazard and rickety on the outside—splotches of paint splashed on the outer walls, planks tacked to random places, parts drilled away by termites—was rather cozy. First of all, she wasn't dead yet. The floor held, and it wasn't even that splintery. Besides the strong floor, there was a maroon couch, a coffee table smack in the middle of the room, a working battery-operated digital clock on the table, baseball posters taped to the walls, and even a small television. The television wasn't operational, of course. It didn't look like anyone paid the place a visit for a while, judging by the thick spider webs in the corners.
But Sakura wasn't afraid of spiders. Or most things in life. Not anymore.
The first thing she saw when she landed inside the tree house was the sofa. She jumped on it graciously, feeling tired, even though the alarm clock only read 8:21 PM in bright green numbers. The sofa smelled musty, but she didn't mind. She had smelled worse.
I suppose I could sleep now. Nothing else to do, she thought.
But no matter how hard she tried, Sakura could not fall asleep. She closed her eyes harder, trying to make sheep appear so she could count them, but all that popped up were flashes of horrible events that she never wanted to replay again. She shook her head viciously. The images persisted. She opened her eyes, and her mother's kind face materialized. She felt like pulling her hair out.
After several more failed attempts at getting rid of the pictures in her mind, Sakura gave up and shut her eyes again, trying her best to ignore the images.
The moment she turned around and ran away from her ex-friends, she knew. Sakura knew that she'd never forget what had happened, even in twenty years when she'd be happily married with kids running around her house. (Pfft, she scoffed. Like that would ever happen.) She knew that she'd see it again in numerous high quality and frighteningly realistic dreams that would plague her uncomfortable nights. And this day, on the one-year anniversary of the disaster that ruined her life, she knew she'd see those events once more.
The events of the day that left her homeless and on the streets.
After what seemed like hours later, but in reality were mere minutes, Sakura drifted off to sleep, allowing the pictures to merge and form moving scenes. They flowed through her head like a sad movie as she entered dream mode: a poignant, angst-filled tragedy that made tears flow down her cheeks every time she saw it.
A/N: What do you think? Good? Bad? Cliché? Let me know in a review. Your comments make me happy, even if they're negative.
Syaoran and the others won't be appearing until at least chapter four. At least. So it probably won't happen. But don't get impatient with me. I promise, they'll appear before you know it.
So... yeah. First chapter done and over with. Review?
Until next time,
- Mimi