How To Love A Prince
by Jianne
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction (see website). Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's (rather twisted) imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Clamp owns the original Card Captor Sakura characters and everything else is owned by the author, unless stated otherwise.
Dedication
To Gennie, who just mourned the first day of not being able to assault a person without fear of jail anymore. O-tanjoubi omedeto!
Vocabulary
Kotaishihi denka – Crown Princess
Daijoubu desu yo? – Are you feeling alright?
Daijoubu desu. – I'm fine.
Kunaicho Chokan – Grand Steward
Dozo. – Come in.
Shitsurei shimasu. – Excuse me.
Ohayo gozaimashita. – A pleasant morning to you.
Okage sama de. – I'm feeling well.
Kareshii – Boyfriend
Dakara shinpai arimasen. – So don't be bothered anymore.
Otsukaresama deshita, minna-san! – Good job everyone!
Kotaishi – Crown Prince
Juuust Before You Read
I translate Japanese words, phrases and sentences as they are used in the dialogues. Japanese words are romanized loosely, so disregard that part from earlier chapters where I said I won't be adding –u to words that are usually anglicized with one. So…yeah. Itadakimasu!
4Sho – What'll She Look Like
"…Oniisama! Yakusoku yakusoku desu ne?"
"…"
"Dakara…doushite…"
"…"
"…"
"Ahh!—ouch!"
"Dare da?"
"H-hello?"
"Anata dare?"
"Um…I—"
"Ikinasai."
"W-wait. I got lost. I d-don't know how to get—are…are you crying?"
"Ikinasai! Ikinasai yo!"
"Oww…"
"…"
"Hey you! You shouldn't push people around! And you shouldn't yell either! My grandpa says that's bad!"
"Iki…ikinasai."
"…"
"…"
"You talk funny. I don't understand you. Can't you speak English?"
"…"
"I guess you can't. But I don't know how to speak funny too."
"…"
"…"
"Daijoubu ka?"
"Huh?"
"…"
"…hey, you wanna know a secret? Last week, my Daddy and my Mommy became angels."
"…"
"Grandpa even said Daddy and Mommy can see me from way up there. Maybe they're right there! Between those two clouds…"
"…"
"But you know, I cried when they told me I won't see Daddy and Mommy again. I cried because they didn't even say goodbye. Nobody should say goodbye before leaving, right?"
"…"
"How about you? Why did you cry?"
"…"
"You don't understand me? Umm…You. Cry?"
"Naku?"
"Naku? What's naku?"
"…"
"Hey, what's that picture?"
"…Oniisama."
"This one?"
"..."
"Is that your Dad? What happened to him?"
"…"
"He didn't say goodbye to you too?"
"…"
"Did he become an angel and went up there too?"
"…sora…?"
"Yes, there. Up in heaven."
"…"
"Well, I know my Daddy and Mommy are happy and laughing and smiling there. Maybe your Daddy is happy and laughing and smiling too. So we shouldn't be sad, right?"
"…"
"And you know what else? My brother said that they're always watching over us. Hey, maybe they're looking at us right now! Maybe they're even waving at us! Let's wave back!"
"…"
"Wave! C'mon! There! Wave higher!"
"…"
"Daddy! Mommy! How are you there? We're all fine here so don't worry, okay? I love you! Now your turn."
"…"
"C'mon! You can do it!"
"O-oniisama…"
"Your daddy wouldn't hear you if you don't shout. Louder!"
"O-oniisama! H-Hayaku kotchi ikinasai yo, ne?"
"Feels good, huh?"
"Arigato."
"Hey! I know that! It means 'thank you' right? Yeah, that nice lady said that too. Ah-ree-guh-tow?"
"Arigato?"
"Ah-ree-guh-to."
"Hai."
"Hai. Ahaha. Do you feel better now?"
"…"
"There. You should smile more, okay?"
"Ano…anata no o-namae wa nan desu ka?"
"Huh?"
"Watashi wa Syaoran to moshimasu. Omae wa?"
"…I can't understand you."
"…Syao-ran. Syaoran."
"Ohhh. You're Syao-ran? Your name is Syao-ran?"
"Hai."
"Me, I'm Sayuri. Sa-yu-ri."
"Sa-yu-ri? Sayuri-san?"
"No no. Sa-yu-ri. Just Sayuri."
"Sayuri."
"Hai. Ahaha."
"Hai."
"Hey look, it's snowing!"
"…yuki."
"Hmm? Is that snow in funny talking?"
"…"
"It's kinda hard to understand when you talk funny. I bet you think I talk funny too huh?"
"Faa-ni?"
"Yup. But you know me now and I know you now. Me, Sayuri. You, Syao-ran."
"…Syaoran. Sayuri."
"Hai! And we're super friends from now on, 'kay?"
--
Suwanochaya, East Gardens, Kokyo
--
He didn't know why, but for some reason, that conversation had always been vivid in his mind. He also remembered every detail of that moment. The dark sky, with a couple of angry-looking cloud puffs. The smell of the garden's flowers. The long one-sided conversation she'd kept, trying to get more words out of him. The snow-damped grass they had eventually slept on. And the different kind of loneliness he'd felt when he awoke to an empty side and a very worried Imperial Guard.
As he walked around the normally tourist-crowded garden, Syaoran couldn't help but feel bad again. His insisting on personally knowing the seventeen-year old version of the Sayuri he knew was only partly because of prejudice tendencies. In fact, the reason isn't that at all. It was just an excuse.
Why do I remember every little thing about that day…everything, but her?
The thing is, Syaoran couldn't remember Sayuri's exact features. It would always be a hazy, almost blurred vision of a girl. He didn't know when or how it even happened, because ever since that day, he would regularly replay those minutes with her. Whenever he'd look up at the sky, he'd see her hand pointing upwards, waving energetically. Before he'd go to sleep, he would picture her beside him, holding his hand, and talking on and on 'til he fell asleep. Whenever he's in the main Imperial Palace, he's gotten the habit of walking around the gardens every morning, even reaching the point where he'd disguise and try to blend in with the crowd just so he wouldn't have to miss an opportunity whenever tourists visit.
Did I simply grow out of it? He asked himself. Yes, that must have been it. Syaoran had always felt that he had to prove something, but when he'd enrolled into Gakushuin High School at the age of 13, the pressure heightened to a soaring level. Aside from the then Grand Steward relinquishing his position, the only other member of the Imperial Family legitimate for the throne, Prince Haruo, who was Syaoran's uncle, had developed an illness and died. As he left two very young daughters to his wife, Princess Momoe, the entire Japan had mourned over the death for a month.
And that had essentially been Syapran's full-forced shove to growing up. The Imperial Household Agency had been stricter on him than ever, packed schedules day after day had greeted him, and it was only a matter of months when personal time had been as scarce as Japan's natural resources. It had been at this point where he stopped looking at the sky, could only sleep in exhaustion at night and started going to advanced morning personal classes. Looking back now, high school seemed like a blur to Syaoran. The only thing he'd written on his diary during those three years was the day of the entrance ceremony (which he hadn't even attended because he was inaugurated as the Crown Prince on the same day). There were no funny anecdotes or experiences to tell of, and even if there were, there hadn't been anyone he would've wanted to tell them to.
But College had been a little better. Instead of going up to Gakushuin University, where most, or rather, all of his older immediate family members had graduated from, he'd enrolled into Tokyo University's Faculty of Economics two years ago. There he'd gotten reunited with the only person he could seriously consider calling a friend—Eriol Hiiragizawa.
Eriol and the Crown Prince had gotten acquainted when they were still in Gakushuin Elementary. They'd first met through the annual athletic meet, where they had represented their respective levels in the 100 meter dash. But whenever he'd ask Eriol about this, he would just shake his head and smile that mysterious smile of his, which has yet to fail in getting into Syaoran's nerves. Though it had been a short acquaintance, both knew it wasn't the last time they'd be seeing each other.
It had taken more or less a decade for their second meeting (and they both agreed on this). It was at the university's entrance ceremony, where Syaoran had to lead his batch's pledge of loyalty. And even after all those years, he would've recognized that barely hidden curious evil glint approaching him. They'd greeted and conversed like they had been together for the past years and since there hadn't been much to catch up on with the (published) life of the Crown Prince, Eriol had done most of the talking. Needless to say, it had been amusing for one, and annoying for the other, but afterwards Syaoran had felt good—happy even—though he'd never be the one to admit it.
Fortunately, the Imperial Household Agency had approved and supported the companionship between the young men, because of Eriol's father or PR purposes Syaoran didn't know which, but in the end he was glad they did. After a year in Tokyo University, the Agency's Grand Steward sought to improve the Prince's publicity even further, so they had him study abroad for a few semesters, and that meant a little bit of free time and freedom for the normally hectic crown prince life. It was in this period where his hazy thoughts of Sayuri had reoccurred, and, as relieved as Syaoran had been, confusion and guilt then seeped in. He'd promised to himself he wouldn't forget her, but he did. And it had been eating his insides whenever he caught the sight of the folder of reports about her just inside his office drawer. And this was why he'd decided he'd remember Sayuri not from her measly pictures taken from afar, but he'd remember her personally, even if it would be in front of the altar.
There used to be a large stone here, and a stone path leading to there… Syaoran looked for the partially concealed place he'd gone to that day he learned of his brother's death. After a few attempts, he sat down on a flat rock to rest. It's not here anymore. Has everything been changed?
Right then, something inside Syaoran stirred in worry. What if she'd changed? What if she doesn't remember? What if sh— He stopped himself before he thought too much. After all, it wasn't good to be having these thoughts just hours before the church wedding ceremony—hours before he could finally look at her, remember her, and let go of the guilt he'd been willingly fostering for years.
--
Dressing Room, Left Section, St. Mary's Cathedral
--
"Why can't anyone tell me why there should be two separate wedding ceremonies, why I still haven't seen my brother or my sister and, most importantly, why the headlines for today are these?"
Still mumbling to herself, Sakura glared at the unrightfully accused newspapers on the table. They ranged from 'Royal Wedding of the Century' (Yomiuri Shimbun)to 'First Open Imperial Wedding' (Mainichi Shimbun) to the worst: 'The Ideal Love Story—From Childhood Friends to Marriage' (Asahi Shimbun).
Pacing back and forth, she tried to calm herself down, but her mind won't stop. This doesn't make sense at all. Even when the John Lennon got married to Yoko Ono, a lot of racist comments still got around… On the other hand, everybody calls the…the practically shotgun wedding of a literally unknown gaijin to the Crown Prince utterly romantic. And what is this stuff about childhood friends? What in the world is going on?
"Kotaishihi denka-sama."
And where could Touya and Sayuri be? They can't cannot be here, right? Their plane should've landed by now. And they should be on their way. But traffic! Yes, they're getting delayed by traffic. They say Tokyo traffic is the worst. Yes, yes, that should be it.
"Kotaishihi denka-sama?"
But knowing Touya and his temper, I won't be surprised if he'd be blowing his head off right now, arguing with a man who couldn't even understand half of what he'd be saying…Ahaha…
"Kotaishihi denka-sama?"
Sakura bumped into someone with a start. Her mind slowly focused on a long-haired lady dressed in a formal black suit, looking a bit surprised herself. "Daijoubu desu yo, Kotaishihi denka-sama?"
She blinked as the older woman refused to meet her eyes. "Uhh…yeah. Yes. I mean hai. Daijoubu desu, Mihara-san." The young member of the Imperial Household Agency still appeared uncertain, so Sakura quickly changed the subject. "Um… so, what do you think of my gown?" she asked with an engaging smile.
I knew I shouldn't have read these newspapers to her. "Eto…" Mihara nervously tucked a short hair strand behind her ear. Everyone she knew knew the clothing line of which the dress was a part was, objectively, the best. But how am I supposed to answer? She looked down at her black-on-black combination of a suit uniform. The Agency never did really encourage its members' sense of fashion… She paused. Wait. Am I thinking too much on this? This is just American culture, right? She inwardly sighed."Excuse her servant's ignorance Kotaishihi denka-sama, but I had been just informed that Her Highness's brother has just arri—"
"Touya? Touya's here? Thank God. Where is he? And how about Sayuri?"
At the confused look of the princess, the twenty two-year old lady appeared even more hesitant. "Her servant has been advised that it is better for Her Highness to raise her questions with the Kunaicho Chokan when he comes to meet with her."
"The Grand Steward?"
"Hai, Kotaishihi denka-sama." She waited for a moment, and when it seemed like she was no longer needed, she bowed deeply and headed to the door.
"Chiharu-san?"
She froze immediately and quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard the Crown Princess call out her first name. I must have heard wrong, she concluded when found no one; still, she turned around just to make sure. The Princess was looking at her anxiously.
"Did Sayuri…was—was Touya alone?"
She gazed at the Crown Princess—very beautiful in her white multi-tiered wedding gown with hints of pale cherry blossoms following a swirl around the outermost layer, white gloves reaching to her elbows, and her hair half-pinned up while the rest flowed down onto her back in loose curls. She looked perfect, but her face lacked that bloom, the radiance every bride was told to possess during the most important day of her life. The Fairy Tale Princess, but not the Fairy Tale Wedding, Chiharu thought, and she wondered if Her Highness was aware that she knew. Being part of the inner Crown Prince's Household Branch of the IHA, she learned both stories—the real, arranged marriage one, and the made-up childhood friends bit.
To put it simply, it was a public strategy that the Grand Steward had devised with the support of the Council, as well as the Imperial Family. It can't be helped, Mihara supposed, since the latest addition to the family grew up in a foreign country, hadn't known how to speak Japanese, still didn't know how to read Japanese and didn't even look like Japanese—with those green eyes and all. So they webbed up a story that was almost entirely contrary to the real one.
And that was only the beginning. They purposefully announced the wedding just this morning in fear of rousing arguments and rallies against the matrimony. To avoid even worse predicaments, they also had to prevent further issues of sexism, at the least, and eyebrow-raisings at Sakura Kinomoto's background. And so the general solution: writers. Or to be more precise, newspaper journalists. They made sure that every newspaper in Japan published the story this morning, and on the front page, no less. Versions were allowed, but all of them contained the same information—who Sakura Kinomoto really was (from her Grandfather to almost being a Princeton student), and her false love story with the Crown Prince.
A couple of knocks at the door woke the two from their depressed state.
"Dozo," came out a wobbly reply from Sakura after the introduction was made by one of the chamberlains. She inhaled deeply. It's about time.
In came the tall figure of the authority behind the Imperial Family's affairs. With piercing eyes and a steady stance, he stepped in and bowed gallantly. "Shitsurei shimasu, Kotaishihi denka-sama."
Rising from her chair, she nodded at her chamberlains and at Mihara who all seemed relieved to be dismissed, before greeting the Grand Steward.
"Yue-san." She gestured for him to sit down, as she did.
He straightened and complied, all the while smiling—a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "Ohayo gozaimashita, Kotaishihi denka-sama. How have you been faring?"
"Okage sama de, arigato gozaimashita, Yue-san." Sakura paused, and decided to speed up the conversation. "Please excuse my impatience, but I believe there are a lot of things we have to talk about."
"Ah, yes." Sakura thought Yue's eyes darkened for a second, but it was gone after a blink. She couldn't help but shudder. This person certainly gave her the chills, but she brushed this impression away. After all, there are more important things to concentrate on. Like this role she suddenly found herself in.
--
Dressing Room, Right Section, St. Mary's Cathedral
--
"Yes, I just heard. Pity, I think. Oh, and you look splendid, by the way."
Princess Tomoyo sighed, setting a cup of tea on its saucer. "You know, when I asked for an audience, I expected the sympathy to be convincing, at the very least." She raised an eyebrow at his display of what should be an apologetic face. "Especially from someone who calls himself my kareshii."
Eriol hid his growing smile behind his teacup. "Very cute, Tomoyo-san." He would never label himself something as immature as a boyfriend. At least not aloud. He then grinned at the thought. Kareshii, ne?
Catching the look on Eriol's face, Tomoyo rolled her eyes at him, before putting on a serious expression. "But to be fair, I think I understand why she couldn't come. It's going to be hard for her to watch her sister be taken away like that. And to be honest, I still feel guilty about the whole thing." She stood and walked over to a life-sized mirror.
"At first I thought, it's fine. She's going to be just some lucky girl who would have these bizarre fantasies of being under the spotlight. I had even smiled at the thought of how was she going to be sorely disappointed of how we live our boring, imperial lives. But when I got to meet her…" Tomoyo's voice trailed off. Eriol followed and wrapped his arms around her. "I doubt if anything I say at this moment would be helpful, but let's just have faith in them. Bad things don't happen to good people without good reason. And if the Kotaishihi denka-sama is what you say she is, then I imagine this'll turn out to be for the better, ne? Dakara," he kissed the top of her head, "shinpai arimasen."
"Is it me or am I just in the wrong room at the wrong place on the wrong day?" a sudden voice cut through the sentimental air.
The now untangled couple turned to Syaoran who had just emerged from the dressing room. "Oniisama! Don't shock us like that!" Tomoyo almost shrieked, a hand over her heart.
"No, I'm probably just at the wrong wedding." The groom deadpanned to himself.
Eriol chuckled and put an arm around his girlfriend just to annoy Syaoran. "Don't mind him, Tomoyo-san. He's been at his wits' end all morning, worrying about every little thing from the music to the cake..." he received identical dark glares from the cousins, "which, you know, is very normal." That is, if he were the bride and if he didn't have an entire unit in charge, he wanted to add but was life-preserving enough not to.
"Ah, that's right. I was asked to be the Maid of Honor in the place of Kotaishihi denka-sama's oneesan. Is that all right with you, Oniisama?" Tomoyo reached over and helped him button his cuffs. "Hmm? Of course, and I'm sorry for the trouble." He frowned, his forehead creasing with worry.
The Princess shook her head at her cousin's formality and smiled. "We've already arranged it all out. Everyone from the procession has been informed of the slight changes. For the bridal song, Ito-sensei should be on the piano stand, all set and ready. However, the song is going to be only for the entrance of Kotaishihi denka-sama and the vow-exchanging ceremony. For the prelude, I believe it's still the traditional Canon in D." She then took the jacket of his three-quarter-length black morning suit and held it up for him to shrug into. "Arigato gozaimasu, Tomoyo-naishinno," he said as he slightly bowed his head.
"Silly. You know I take pleasure in meddling with your life. Now, I know this ceremony was modified to be short and quick, but please enjoy yourself, okay?" She grinned at her cousin, and was surprised when she received a pat on her head.
A little embarrassed by his careless gesture, the Crown Prince coughed and excused himself, leaving the dumbfounded couple alone again. Tomoyo stared at Eriol, who was smirking as if he knew something she didn't. And if she knew him, there was something. "What was that?" she asked.
The fact that she reverted to English could only mean she was serious. "Uh, cold feet?" Eriol answered feebly. Arms crossed, the Princess raised an eyebrow. "You do know I'm getting to the bottom of this, don't you? So pray tell, chap."
No sign yet, Eriol observed, so it should be pretty harmless for now. "Well, I suppose that really was just a case of the pre-wedding flu. He's been having a splendid temper for days no—" His voice cut itself off as he watched Tomoyo take a seat and sip her already cold tea. "Yes, yes, do go on," she encouraged, a peculiar calmness in her voice now evident.
There it is, Eriol sighed. The manic gleam in her eye. "Have I mentioned how cute your death stance is?" He sat beside the princess and pulled a slim digital camera from his double-breasted black suit.
Her tea abandoned once again, Tomoyo silently looked on as he turned the device on and clicked a few buttons. "It happened about a month ago, before we'd gone to the conferences." He handed it over.
Princess Tomoyo, more confused than ever, scanned through some of the scenery pictures. "Is this Tsurugaoka Hachiman Shrine? What does this have to do wi—"
Eriol looked at her pause and scrutinize a photo with a robed priest and a brown-haired girl smiling together. "The Prince had been positively curious from the time when we met that girl. I did ask him about it, and he merely said she stroke a chord in him of someone. I presumed he was referring to the Crown Princess. What do you think?"
Tomoyo couldn't take her eyes off the camera. "When did you say this was?"
"The day before we flew to Spain. Why?"
Finally, she looked up at Eriol with an unreadable expression. "You mean they have already met each other? And he doesn't know?"
"They? Who?" Eriol's back straightened. "Tomoyo, you're not making any sense."
A slow smile broke into her face. "Yes, that's right. You both didn't know what Sakura looks like. This is hilarious. And to think, he has been holding out from the gathered information and pictures of his bride…"
"By jove, Tomoyo! Can you tell me what you've been mumbling about? Who's Sakura? And what about Sayuri?"
The Princess was torn between incredulity and excitement. "My goodness, you don't even know the name? I cannot believe this! Sakura is the name of the bride and the Crown Princess of Japan!"
"Sakura?" Eriol asked blankly. "You mean Sayuri."
"Sayuri? No, it's Sakura, Eriol. Who's this Sayuri, by the way?"
Smiling, Eriol rested his hands on his girlfriend's shoulders. "You must be really exhausted with all the preparations for the wedding. Tomoyo, her name is Sayuri. I would know, by the number of scores the Crown Prince has mentioned her the previous weeks. You must've misheard." He reasoned calmly.
A tic got into the Princess' smile. "Is that so? Hmm. You'd think I would know, considering the fact that I've been with the actual name owner for the past month." She shrugged. "Perhaps she was just too polite to correct me, yes?"
Eriol stared back at her. And after a moment's pause, "Then who the bloody hell was he talking about?"
--
Front Hall, St. Mary's Cathedral
--
"Live at St. Mary's Cathedral, this is Sasaki Rika, reporting for NTV News." She smiled for a few seconds more before motioning to her cameraman to cut off the video. "Otsukaresama deshita, minna-san!" she called to her four-man team and they gave her exhausted smiles in return. Rika sighed. It sure is a field day for the media lot, she thought as she watched her colleagues try to get an interview out of the newly arrived Prime Minister. She was glad that she hadn't been assigned to interviews or that would have been more stressful. All she had to do was keep an eye on the first western imperial wedding ceremony and count off the persons who attended it.
Even they came. She nodded at a former associate who was now working at CNN. Several foreign news groups sent their own teams as well. It looks like the world's current focus is on us. After all, the Kotaishi-sama is the first to wed from his generation of royalties. She headed to the reserved seating area for media persons, which was a little way off to the right and back of the cathedral.
"Sasaki-san!"
Rika waved at her boss, Jinkama Reiko, one of the producers of her news shows on NTV. "Jin-san! I didn't know you were coming." She gestured at the seat beside her while the middle-aged lady simply shrugged. "I didn't know I was too, up until I caught myself watching these wolves on live television, devouring what small meat these fraudulent mortals could offer." She offered a resigned sigh as she sat down. "And I realized I am the leader of our pack, and therefore should be here. You know, duty and all that jazz." Rika didn't know if she'd wince and agree or just smile politely. She has always had that impression on people. Rika then settled for the safe reaction. "And I suppose you're mourning for the media today?" she glanced at her boss's black attire.
Her boss simply smiled at the young newscaster's naïveté. Ah, youth. How fast have you flown from my grasp. "Yes, yes I am. And so will everyone, once they've heard the truth behind this. Or the rumors, which do not stray far from the truth, I've heard." Rika noticed the secretive smile on her boss's face, but decided to stay silent.
"In any case, our real job is about to start."
They both stood up as did everybody. The time has come.
--
Dressing Room, Left Section, St. Mary's Cathedral
--
"So…"
"Hmm?"
Touya cleared his throat. He knew he had never been a people person. But this was his little sister he was talking to. His little sister. Except that in just a few minutes she wasn't going to be just his little sister anymore.
"Sakura?"
She turned to him with a fixed grin on her face, her white gown moving with her. "Feeling schmaltzy all of a sudden, big brother?" she poked him at the side. "Don't worry, I know you're dying to get rid of your annoying little sisters. One down and one more to go, huh?" She smirked at him.
He could only look away and try to ignore the charade that Sakura was playing. But he had to say it. He had to at least try. If not for her, then for himself.
"There's still time, you know. I have the car waiting at the back. If you want to, we can—" He caught the look at Sakura's face. "What?"
Frowning, Sakura put her hands on her hips. "Who are you and what have you done to my big brother? Because seriously? You're not doing a great job as an impostor." Then she smiled. "Don't you know that he never wears his hair like that?" She stared at his moussed hair. "And he even told me once that he'd die first before he wears a black tie." Touya's hand consciously flew to his Windsor tie. "If you had done your homework, you should have also known that he always has this big whoever-that-boy-is frown whenever I dress up for something." Sakura reached out to his brother's face. "And he would never, ever tell me to back out on something I've already decided on. Because he always tells me that a Kinomoto is a Kinomoto because of integrity." She buried her face into his chest and said through a muffled voice, "And I will always be a Kinomoto, Touya. You know that."
Touya sighed. I'd never forgive myself for this. He pulled her away to arm's length. Please be okay, okay? "If only you were half as good in Calculus as you are in making speeches…" He smirked at her sister's childish pout until he took something from his pocket and gave it to her. "From Sayuri."
Sakura nodded, and placed it on the desk. She turned back to Touya and said, "I know Sayuri would've wanted to do this but I guess my stupid big brother will do." She smiled as Touya rolled his eyes and carefully lowered her white, transparent veil to her face.
"Love ya, kid."
"Yeah, me too."
--
Main Hall, St. Mary's Cathedral
--
"It will take the Agency at most six months to smoothen out all the issues, so please bear with us a little longer, Kotaishihi denka-sama."
"So you're saying I have to pretend even with them?"
"Hai. Even with the Imperial Family themselves."
Sakura unconsciously tightened her gloved fist. So this is what Sayuri was talking about. She can almost hear her sister's voice scolding her that she was, yet again, minding herself too much with other people's business. But she honestly couldn't help it. She'd already agreed to get involved with this mess. Stop it, Sakura. You can't turn back now.
"Are you ready?"
Sakura's head snapped up. Princess Tomoyo was looking at her with very worried eyes that unexpected words managed to slip out of her mouth somehow. "I don't think I'll ever be." She lowered her eyes. Then the Grand Steward's words suddenly rang through her head.
"Even with the Imperial Family themselves."
He felt Touya nudge her arm, discreetly asking her if she was ready. "But I'm fine. And of course I'm ready. Really I am. It's just…just the nerves talking." She pasted a smile on her face to top it all off, trying not to remember that other thing the Grand Steward had told her.
"And if something unexpected happens during the ceremony, I trust you will remember that the show must go on, as you Americans say."
Us Americans, huh?
Tomoyo blinked as she noticed the bride's face go blank. "Sakura…" But she just laughed when she asked her if everything was alright. Okay… She even shot her a reassuring beam before she took her first step through the door.
I can't believe I started this stupid charade with Tomoyo. Inhaling deeply, Sakura engrossed herself into the anxiety mantra she'd developed over the years. It's alright, it's alright. No matter what happens after today, everything will still be the same. Everything's going to be fine.
Sakura stopped doing air piano fingers with her right hand. No. Of course everything's going to be different. If she was going to go through this, it's better if she get in touch with reality starting now. But that doesn't mean everything's not going to be fine, right?
Right?
The silence of her usually confident inner pep squad startled her more than the first lyrics of the bride's processional song.
What'll she look like when she opens her eyes
And sees what she wants to see
Instead of this cold mirror's lies
And all the pieces complete
She says with a sign
I think I'm ready
Syaoran couldn't believe he was feeling like this. Furthermore, he couldn't believe someone could even make him feel like this. It was like he was back to his last year in high school, anxious to graduate and go to college. Or that time when he was given his first horse.
Okay, maybe those were nothing compared to this. After all, it was his wedding day. In any case, he couldn't wait for this lovely lady to reach his side and raise her head so he could finally look at her.
What'll she sound like when she opens her mouth
And all the phrases sound right
As they fall out
And she says yes and she's not
Scared of the sound
Well she says she's ready
The next thing Sakura knew, she was in front of the altar, in front of the Prince and in front of everybody. Her head still slightly bowed, she watched as her groom took her hand from Touya's and circled it around his elbow.
She could almost swear she felt his brother's hand tremble.
Will she be soft, will she be strong
Will she be ready to be wrong
Will she move too fast or wait too long
Will she look me in the eyes
What'll she look like
Touya nearly hadn't wanted to let go of Sakura's hand. But after they'd bowed to each other, he'd observed how the Prince had looked at his sister. His eyes told him the last thing Touya ever expected. Impossible. He couldn't be…
What'll she feel like when she opens her heart
And finds that there just might be
A small missing part
And whether with or without me
She has to start getting ready
The melody of the chorus hovered around them ever so silently as the minister proceeded on to his short message. Meanwhile, everyone in the cathedral could feel the heavy tension in the air, the anticipation of who Japan's new Crown Princess is already replaced by silent questions of why. Everything else—the extravagant adornments, the high-profile attendees—didn't matter to them.
Both the bride and groom felt it as well, but they took it in differently. Sakura absorbed every percent of it, all of it was really directed at her anyway. She was just grateful that her back was turned to them, and that no one could see her fiddling her fingers with the hem of her gown.
Syaoran, of course, because he'd already grown accustomed to this, concentrated on the fact that his bride looked nothing short of his expectations. In fact, he never thought she'd grow to be this wonderful. And what's more, beneath her filmy veil, she was already looking familiar. Strongly familiar.
If only she'd look up at him.
What'll she look like when she opens her eyes
Will she see just what I see
Will it be a surprise
To find that she hasn't changed,
Her eyes are just a little bit wider now
She's getting ready
"And now our bride and groom will light the center candle symbolizing the unifying power of love, joining together all the members of their family. And before we witness their personally written vows, I invite everyone to read from the First Corinthians, that wonderful book about love."
Sakura's eyes widened. Wait, wait, wait. Vows? She blinked. I mean, vows. Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. She tried to remember the words she'd carefully written last night. I can do that. Suddenly her hands felt warm and she stared at those big hands that suddenly covered hers. Already? She took a deep breath, inwardly reciting her newly amended mantra. It's okay, it's okay. Although everything would be different after this, everything will still be fine. Okay, Sakura? Okay.
She almost gulped when the minister nodded at her.
"In the presence of everyone who are in here…" Sakura paused, suddenly realizing that she could count the attendees she knew by more than their faces with one hand, "I take you to be my partner, trusting what I already know of you and respecting what I have yet to." She cringed at how…careful she must have sounded. "I eagerly anticipate the chance to learn, to grow and to laugh together throughout the seasons that we'll have." Like friends, right? "And with this ring, I wed you."
Will she be soft, will she be strong
Will she be ready to be wrong
Will she move too fast or wait too long
Oh will she look me in the eyes
Staring at his bride's still bowed head while she slipped the golden ring to his finger, Syaoran couldn't help but be disheartened a bit. He didn't want to think too largely of her casualness, but…
"Now let's hear from the groom."
We have the rest of our lifetime to make up for it. He squeezed her hands before reciting the poem he'd come across the day he'd bought her birthday gift.
"I was never struck that hour,
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower,
And stole my heart away complete.
Are flowers winter's choice?
Is love's bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice
Not love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling place
And can return no more."
Then he simply declared, "I vow to love you." He slipped the diamond-centered ring to her finger. "If this ring symbolizes anything at all, it will be for my gratitude in marrying me." He earnestly said, all the while trying to catch her eyes.
Sakura fought the shiver running down her spine. How could he say all those things with a straight face? To vow as if he'd meant to keep them? If his hold on her hands were the smallest bit looser, she would've snatched them back. But it wasn't, and Sakura felt her hands get sweaty for what was about to come.
The minister cleared his throat, apparently the only person sensing the growing strain between the two. "Now that you have signified your love by the exchange of vows and rings, I pronounce you husband and wife. These were two, now are one." He motioned to Syaoran, smiling awkwardly. "You may kiss your princess."
Will she be soft, will she be strong
Will she be ready to be wrong
Is she gonna be taking a chance
On her own song
Will she look me in the eyes
What'll she look like
What'll she sound like
Panic overtook Sakura's entire being. K-kiss… She felt something grip her from the guts, twisting them repeatedly. This was the moment she was most dreading. She bowed her head, trying to hold off the kiss as long as possible. Even when he unveiled her face, she stubbornly kept her eyes lowered to the ground. But this is perfectly normal, Sakura, she told herself. This is what you've promised yourself, right? Your first kiss will only be for your husband. She froze. My husband… Determined to get the part over with, she closed her eyes as she stiffly lifted her chin for the kiss.
The action did not go unnoticed by Syaoran who then fought a chuckle back down. He was planning to study the face of his bride for a few more moments, but it appeared as if she couldn't wait any longer. "You turned out more beautiful than I have expected," he whispered to her, "Sayuri." And, with all the tender feelings he nurtured for the girl for over twelve years, he closed his eyes and claimed her lips, taking a lot more time than what was needed.
Sakura opened her eyes wide. Sayuri?
Bile threateningly rose to her throat, almost choking her. What the— How could this man think she was her sister? And how dare he kiss her like that?
Fists clenched, she waited for the kiss to end, and after what seemed an hour, it finally did. Sakura had considered not putting into action what she could only call as the most deserved physical harm she was ever going to do, but when Syaoran gazed down at her with another one of his nice guy masks, all those seventeen years of sensible and positive breeding vanished in a nanosecond, and she slapped that aggravating gentle smile away from his face.
Oh, what'll she feel like
Tsuzuku
Why don't we skip the part where you threaten to bomb me with tomatoes and I try to make a dozen of lame excuses but you bomb me anyway?
No? So does that mean I still wouldn't be getting flames this time?
Fine. Suit yourself.
Anyway, I really had a hard time writing this chapter. The wedding! Haha, didn't really think I could do it, but here it is. And I don't know if anyone noticed it, but my chapters get longer by the number. Like, they just carry on with hardly my permission at all. Hmmm. (On this last part, I felt like writing those nonsense talk mangaka usually do on the originally advertisement parts of their tankoubon.)
This silly, silly person doesn't own What''ll She Look Like (Stephen Speaks) and that nice poem from our groom.
Reviews (you don't get tired of this, do you?) are eternally appreciated and will be replied to, if asked (but not necessarily remembered, let's be honest), Constructive Criticisms, however, are remembered, while Flames are challenged, even provoked (actually, please flame me as I have nothing else better to do at the moment).
Don't review if you don't want to.
Nemo me impune lacessit.
