No one can predict the future.
***

 A master is someone that you serve. Someone that you labor
for and obey and adore. Someone to whom you owe your loyalty,
your love, and your very existence. A master is someone that
makes the life of a Moon Guardian possible.

 Sakura had always been a good master. Now though ...

 Now she was so much more.

 Once he'd felt the years -- past and future -- pressing down
upon him heavily. He'd looked back on the happiness that had
come so late and gone so soon, then looked ahead to all the
remaining years and he had been weary. Sick and exhausted with
the crushing weight of an uncaring forever. Daily for over a
century he'd contemplated spending eternity alone. Unloved and
misunderstood and grieving.

 So few had ever understood him.

 All of that had changed that day when he'd looked into
Sakura's eyes and found passion there. Always there had been
love there, but that day ...

 He'd never had such a shock. That she could love him so
deeply had frightened him at first, but with a bit of a nudge in
the right direction by interested third and forth parties, he'd
decided to gamble everything. He'd decided to take a chance on
love for only the second time in his long long life.

 Right now she was sleeping.

 Yue wasn't sure whether he liked her better this way or
awake. She wasn't one of those delicate women who looked angelic
or innocent only as they lay in slumber. Indeed, her waking self
was more angelic than Yue could sometimes bear, but asleep she
turned, she kicked, she rolled, she mumbled, she pulled his hair. 
She smiled. He loved watching her; smelling her; holding her as
she slept. He loved the unconscious motion of her body in the
quiet of the long nights. He lived for the moments when her
dreaming mind commanded, and she clasped him tight, snuggled into
his accommodating flesh, and sighed with unfeigned contentment. 
He cherished the times when she happily whispered his name.

 Love radiated from her at all times, but it was his nights
alone with his thoughts and her unconscious expressions of trust
and adoration that he loved best.

 She murmured quietly, and he looked at her; stroked her
cheek gently; wrapped her a little more tightly in the warmth of
his wings. He could taste a bit of rare tension in her. 
Something was troubling her normally peaceful rest. A dream,
perhaps, or a premonition. She struggled a little until he
kissed her cheek and whispered soothing words. It was alright. 
He was here. They were safe.

 They were together.

 She stilled; moved closer to him.

 He didn't worry about the future any more. He believed in
their love. He believed in holding on to her for as long as he
could and not worrying about anything else. That at this moment,
he was comforting her from unknown anxieties was enough.

 He'd let the future take care of itself.

 A master is someone that you love. Somone that you serve
and obey and adore for all of your long existence. A master
makes the life of a Moon Guardian possible, and if that Moon
Guardian is very very lucky, they also fill that life with love
and happiness.
 

***

There are no certainties just as there are no impossibilities.
***


 "Something strange happened to me today, Grandmother."

 She stopped her sewing and smiled at her beautiful Ayumi. 
Her only grandchild. "And what was that, dear?"

 "I-chan's mother asked me if I like fish. I do like fish,
Grandmother."

 "But that's not strange, Ayumi-chan!"

 "I know. So I said 'I like fish.' I-chan's mother said,
'Oh, that's good,' and then she went into her house. But for a
moment, *before* I said 'I like fish,' I saw something strange. 
I saw her buying something at the market. She bought a fish,
except that she also bought a chicken. Except she didn't buy the
chicken if she bought the fish. But that doesn't make sense,
because she's not going shopping today. She's going tomorrow,
and then I'm supposed to go over to her house to eat dinner."

 Her heart froze. The family curse. For years, ever since
her poor daughter had first conceived, she'd hoped that it was
ended. She'd prayed that this innocent child would not have to
endure the hatred and the fear of those around her. She'd hoped
the curse would not rest upon this child. "Ayumi-chan... Have
you ever seen anything like that before? Two things that haven't
happened yet? Have you ever known in your heart that only one of
them could really happen and that you had to make a choice?"

 "...Sometimes."

 The eyes of the village already watched her too closely. 
Watched for any signs of the sight. Any indication that this
girl, like her mother, could see a lie in the face of the teller,
or sense the spirits of the dead, or ... or see what was in store
if one path was chosen and another rejected. If only she could
be sure that Ayumi would understand how important it was to hide
what she knew from those who wouldn't understand! "You were
standing at the crossroads."

 "The ... cross ... crossroad?"

 She gathered the child into her arms and held her. She
didn't understand the cruelty of the gods, but such a curse still
might be put to use. Ayumi might learn, as her own mother had,
that foreknowledge could warn; could empower. "Yes, child. You
were shown two things that might happen. Which one happens
depends on which choice you make. If you had said you didn't
like fish, what would happen tomorrow?"

 "I-chan's mother would buy a chicken."

 "Right. But because you said you like fish..."

 The child's innocent grin was almost painful. "She bought
fish! We're going to eat fish!"

 Her grip tightened ever so slightly. How could she warn
her? How could she make her understand? "Listen to me, Ayumi. 
Pay very close attention when you see things like that. 
Sometimes a choice can be as small as what you'll have for
dinner. Sometimes, though, it will mean the difference between
staying safe, and being hurt badly. Look at both sides. Choose
carefully."

 "I will, Grandmother."

 "And whatever you do, Ayumi, don't tell anyone what you see! 
Don't ever let anyone know that the future sends you visions! 
They won't understand." And she looked down into those bright
and serious eyes that she knew so well, but she didn't see
understanding there. She didn't see fear. Only confusion. 

 Oh, if only she were afraid. If only she understood what
terrible things men sometimes did when they didn't understand.


***
Potential branches past this moment.

And this one.

And this one.

Into a web of possibilities. Not infinite, but unending.
Not limitless, but always growing.


***

 He didn't look into the future. He hadn't looked into
the future for many years. He told himself that there was no
challenge in doing so. That too easily all that knowledge would
flood into his mind. All the secrets of the ages to come. 

 There was nothing about the future that could be kept from
his piercing inner eye. 

 Except the things that could.

 There was nothing that he couldn't predict with absolute
certainty down to the most minute detail.

 Except the things he couldn't.

 Why look into the future when all you found there was
frustration? Certainly he could tell where the missing heiress
of the Clan McPherson would eventually be found, and with whom,
and what the score of his Tuesday night game of billiards would
be, and what the weather would be like for the next century or
so, but what did any of that matter? What good was all of that
when the personal details of his own life would forever be
shrouded from his view? What were all the prophecies in the
world when they could not see what one choice would bring, or
what one heart would decide?

 Why bother when nothing you saw ever brought you happiness,
or helped you to keep those you loved from making bad decisions.

 Decisions that hurt.

 Decisions that left your heart desolate and broken for
centuries.

 No. 

 He would never again look into the future. This he'd vowed
nearly a hundred years ago when ...

 When...

 When *she* had left him. When he'd been totally unprepared
for her willful and callous abandonment. He'd kept that vow
faithfully. Since then he'd never been tempted to use his
clairvoyance to discover the events of the distant future.

 It was so much more fun to look in on his loved ones in the
present anyway.

 Sakura and Yue.

 He'd been so delighted when they'd finally worked things
out. When they'd finally given in to the longing and the sexual
tension that he'd carefully planted between them so long ago.

 They were so adorable together!

 He supposed he ought to contact them. To congratulate them. 
But since... 

 Since... 

 Since *that* day, he'd let all of his business and personal
correspondence lapse. It had been too long. Much too long to
merely drop by unannounced and disturb this perfect life that
they seemed to have found in each other's arms.

 They were getting along just fine without him.

 Very well, actually.

 Someday, perhaps, they'd need his guidance or intervention
again. Until then, however, he would not intrude. It was good
that they were at last happy.

 He wasn't even jealous.

 Not even a little bit.

 Not at all.


***
Each moment lessens our total number of available choices.
Each choice leads to new opportunities. It is too complex a
thing to quantify and too beautiful a thing to comprehend.
***


 Bored.

 He was incredibly bored.

 His master was sleeping peacefully, wrapped tightly in the
numerous appendages of her vigilant lover. She was safe and
content.

 Which meant that as a guardian, not only did he have no duty
to perform, but also no one to talk to or play with.

 There were times when he slept. Especially now that
Sakura's magic was so very strong, he didn't really *need* sleep. 
He just liked it in the same way he liked eating. Sleeping,
however, was much more fun during the day when he could find a
quiet sunny spot to curl up in, but Sakura slept at night. Once
he'd taken great joy in talking to, pestering, and generally
tormenting his fellow guardian Yue through the countless nights,
but now Yue spent his nights ...

 Well, if there was one place Yue was safe from Keroberus'
need to be entertained, that was where he was now. It wasn't
that the Sun Guardian feared Yue's wrath or Sakura's, it was just
that ... Sakura had always been good to him, and she needed her
rest. He wouldn't have disturbed her for the world. Therefore,
Yue was out of his reach.

 Thus deprived of both of his companions, he spent many
evenings in a restless state.

 Over all it was a good thing, he supposed. Once before he'd
seen Yue blossom under the influence of true love. It wasn't
that he was cold or unfeeling, just that he'd had much to be
unhappy about when he'd first returned from his self-appointed
oblivion. For a while, he'd been truly happy. He'd laughed and
smiled and enjoyed the company of his friends and his lover
almost like a normal person.

 But only for a while.

 Now that he had Sakura, he was once again content and even
happy. Her attention could make flowers bloom in the wastelands. 
Yue was not immune to her subtle and unconscious power; the
secret delight in her innocent eyes. Yue had shown himself to be
most vulnerable of all. 

 And Sakura was happy. Happier than she'd been in far too
long, and that made it all worth it. How could he be so
ungrateful as to complain?

 This didn't change the fact that night after night he was
completely bored.

 He had taken to long midnight flights up and down the
mountains, through the canyons, over the fields. It was
beautiful country, and Sakura always appreciated any news he
could give her about the state of things. Signs of the local
wildlife, the rise of the lakes and rivers, and evidence of any
poachers on her property. Incidents of humans trespassing on
Sakura's land were becoming rarer with every generation, but that
was certainly no reason to become less vigilant. She'd never
asked him to make these rounds, but where duty had failed to
motivate him for many decades, endless tedium had succeeded.

 It was still hours until dawn, though, and he'd seen nothing
out of the ordinary. Perhaps a small nap wasn't such a bad idea
after all.


***
As each choice is made, a hundred other possibilities cease
to exist; collapse in on themselves as if they never were.

Because they never were.

***

 For the second time that night, Ayumi was standing at the
crossroads. She didn't know what it had meant, that strange
compulsion to run into the forest away from everything she'd ever
known, but somehow, she'd chosen to trust the strange vision. 
The one that had insisted that death and pain stalked her; that
her only chance lay out there in the unknown wilds. She tried
hard to ignore all the fear. All the stories she'd heard about
the evil things that hunted on this mountain. All the things
that would love to chew on the tender flesh of a young girl. 
She'd sensed danger, she'd fled despite all the stories.

 Now, though, the vision insisted that the danger was not
over. 'You must go this way, not this way,' it insisted. 'You
must climb. You must find the safe place. You must find the
rocks.'

 She turned and ran, doing her best to follow that internal
vision, but she was frightened, and it was still vague and fuzzy
in her mind. Which way and how far had become functions of
instinct and not vision or knowledge. She was doing her best,
but now the danger was nearer than ever, and she still wasn't
sure if it was real. It could all be in her mind. 

 No, her visions had never been wrong before. Grandmother
had told her to pay attention. That they might warn her. She
didn't know what was going to happen, but if she did get hurt,
she wouldn't let it be because she hadn't paid attention.

 'The rocks,' instinct said, and she looked up. There was a
ridge above her, and she needed to go to it. She climbed the
hill, and reached the spine of stones. There *was* something
about them. A strong feeling of ... something. 'Here. Wait
here,' she heard. She looked about herself, and nearly jumped in
fear when she saw the drop just beyond the rocks. She didn't
know how far down it went, but to her, it looked like forever. 
The vision, though, insisted. This was it. This was where she'd
be safe. Not only that, but the monster was coming. It was
following her. 

 She was a big girl! She didn't believe in monsters!

 One was coming nonetheless. The brush stirred behind her,
and with great mental effort, she pulled her gaze away from that
terrible cliff. Something was coming. Something that walked on
two legs. Something that looked a lot like a man from her
village.

 'Monster,' the vision insisted, and Ayumi couldn't argue. 
This man had always made her feel threatened. He lied often, and
for years she'd sensed a deep hatred in him. For a long time
he'd wanted to hurt her. And now she was alone with him.

 When he saw her, he smiled. He was coming closer and
closer, and all Ayumi could do was stare. He reached for
something at his belt. A knife. A huge hunting knife. He
wanted to use it. He wanted to stick it into her. She could see
it in his smiling face. There was nowhere to run. She watched.

 "There you are, little girl," he said pleasantly. "Come
here. I want to tell you something."

 She didn't move. She didn't speak. He stopped walking, and
stared at her. Only a few paces and he'd have her. She couldn't
run past him, she couldn't run away from him.

 "Never mind," he said. "You can't get away. You've been
hiding behind that old woman a long time, but that all ends
tonight. I was surprised when you ran, but this is really so
much easier. No one here to see. No one to stop me. No one to
help you. I'm going to kill you tonight."

 Ayumi whimpered. What was this all about?

 The stranger's pleasant and conversational tone was even
more disturbing than his words or the knife in his hand. "Oh, I
don't *want* to kill you. I have to do it. I have to protect
the village, you know. Protect it from witches and demons like
you."

 What did he mean? Why was he calling her names?

 "Well, it's true, isn't it? You see things. You know
things before they happen. Just like your mother."

 Her mother? She didn't remember her mother. Her mother had
died long ago. Had she been like Ayumi? Had she known?

 The monster looked around himself. "You know, it was right
about here that I last saw your mother. Strange that you'd run
here. You knew I was coming, didn't you? You knew I'd found you
out at last? So you ran here. To the same place your mother
ran. Running didn't save her, you know. I found her here. I
killed her. Just like I'm going to kill you."

 He *had* killed her mother. It wasn't a lie or a boast, it
was a bare fact. She knew it with the same instinct that had led
her here. But why here? If her mother too had been led here ...
if her mother had died here, then ...

 An unnatural mist was rising from the ground. The figure of
a woman behind her crazed accuser. And time stopped. "Mommy?"

 She felt peace in this strange place faced with dangers on
ever side. She felt comfort. She was loved. It didn't matter
if she died. She'd be with her mother. She took one step
forward, but the beautiful lady held up a hand. She needed to
stay where she was. The man was still talking. He was coming
closer, but she needed to stay where she was. Mother would
explain everything, but right now, she needed to lie down on the
rocks.

 A strange whiteness was filling the air all around. It was
cool and soft, and she wanted to close her eyes, but the man was
coming closer. He was telling her that she was evil, and that
she had hurt the people, but he was wrong. She was a good girl. 
A smart girl. Mommy said so. The white was rising higher and
higher, and the man sounded afraid now. Afraid of her? Afraid
of Mommy? It was too bright, and she couldn't see, and he
couldn't see either because he was yelling, and he was coming
closer, and his foot hit her hard in the stomach, but he fell and
he was screaming and falling and falling. And Mommy was holding
her and telling her that she was a good girl.

 She wanted to stay forever with Mommy, but Mommy shook her
head. Her lips didn't move, but Ayumi heard her words. 'You
have to go, little one. You have to climb this mountain. You'll
find someone up there. Someone who'll help you. There are some
important things that you have to do.'

 But not right now, please. Right now her stomach hurt and
she was tired.


***

To some extent, every human is given the power to understand
what effects their choices might have. To see the future -- as
it were -- that will result if they, perhaps, light a fire, or
plant a seed, or lift a hand in anger. We all have a share of
this foresight. Some have more, some less. Some make better use
of their small gift than others make of their impressive talent.

But no one can predict the future.

***


The Wasteland
a Card Captor Sakura futurefic
by Michelle Thatcher


***