Replay: 1999.

Monday, 25 May 1999

It was quarter past five in the evening. Black ravens emerged from the yellow-tinted cottons in the sky, cawing while soaring high above Tokyo neighbourhoods. A bunch of young students in their uniform loitered on the bridge connecting the three-storied Tomoeda Junior High front building with Tomoeda 11-chome, located on the outskirts of the vibrant Tomoeda downtown. The junior high schoolers sparked the calm, soothing atmosphere around one of the quietest areas in Tomoeda District with chitter-chatters about the latest piece of song they had to sing in their next performance, idle gossips relating to choir club activities and some occasional guffaws.

Most of the rooms in the school building already had their light bulbs off, but the school backyard was still bustling with club activities. Boys in their blue-white PE uniform ran side by side and elbowed against each other, attempting to chase and protect a ball, rolling on the even ground, intermittently bounced when bumped against the front of a player's shoe, as if it was their childhood treasure.

One player wearing a red sports bib dove to the ground; his knees picked up some dirt as they scuffed the earth, when another player without bib slid his stretched legs on the ground—sending the ball to the edge of the field where his teammate, hand raised and shouting for a pass, was waiting. The chestnut-haired boy jumped and swished his right leg, firing the ball to one end of the pitch. The hiss that the ball made when it bent in the air; as if it was a moon orbiting around a living planet at full speed, was followed by whoops of delight as the players without bibs were celebrating their team's triumph.

The scorer mopped the streamlets of sweat pouring down his temples with his shoulder and clapped his hands, signalling for attention. "Break time!"

"Oh my, not even a smile from our dearest captain after wrecking our opponent with a hat-trick?" The boy who previously assisted the scorer in his goal hooked his arms around the striker's neck and tousled his chestnut hair. "Even I had to admit the last goal was sick, bro! Too bad it's our coach's day off today—he'd be ecstatic to see that long-shot goal!"

"What's there to be happy about when we win against our own team in a practice match? And, I'm not your bro, Hiiragizawa." Syaoran pushed the jaunty boy aside and tidied his hair. "Also, don't scrape my scalp with your dirty nails."

"Well, well! Guess our captain's as unfriendly, strict and short-fused as ever today. That's why you're still single!" The boy with glasses shut his eyes and bobbed his head to the orange sun; one hand combing his navy hair and the other pointing at Syaoran—a gesture that confirmed Syaoran's suspicion that he had been watching too many soap operas lately. He trotted to the middle of the pitch, leaving Eriol behind, and called his teammates to form a circle around him. Eriol jerked his eyes as the captain's voice echoed in the open space. He nagged to himself as he scampered to him, "Oh, seriously, this is like the hundredth time he ignored me today! But he still managed to make all the girls drool over him with that iceberg personality of his… Geez! Thinking about it only irks me even more!"

Syaoran shouted from afar, "Oi, Hiiragizawa! Don't dilly-dally! Come here fast and stop talking to yourself!"

"Urk—as expected, he's really annoying!" Eriol praised himself again for the umpteenth time in the six years of knowing Syaoran, who was waving his hands to tell him to run faster, for maintaining his friendship with the cold-blooded imp.

Occupying the little space of the yard between Tomoeda Junior High's south wing building and the school's football pitch, metres away from the long, trough-shaped outdoor sink, a group of girls in cheerleading uniform raised their pom-poms to the sky, swayed their hips and pivoted on their toes to the beat of the rhythmic music, blasting from the black speaker box next to their coach. When the music reached its climax, they formed a wide, double row. At the whistle of the coach, the girls on the front row pressed one of their knees to the ground and brought their palms away from their bodies, held at chest-level. The girls behind stepped at the open hands, took a poised leap and twirled in the air, before gracefully landing on the ground, safe and sound—except for one. Unable to control the momentum when her feet touch the ground, she tripped over her own feet and grazed both knees.

"Sakura-chan!" A brunette girl shrieked in horror as she darted towards the girl slumping on the ground, groaning as her shaky hand hovered above her bent knees. As if hundreds of bees were buzzing around her knee caps, Sakura felt the throbbing stinging zoomed from both knees out to every muscle in her lower limbs. Her brunette friend almost lost her vision when she saw Sakura's knees stained red; a gushing stream of fresh blood spurting from Sakura's knees to the soil, almost creating a puddle of molten ruby. The other girls who clustered around Sakura gasped; some immediately backed away at the sight of the gory scene, telling themselves to calm down and suppressed their gag reflexes.

"Kinomoto-san!? Are you okay?" The coach, a young woman in white tracksuit, kneeled next to her, one hand patting the wounded girl's stooping shoulder. The coach turned to the brunette girl and said, "Yanagisawa-san, can you take Kinomo-san to the infirmary?"

"Yes, coach!" She coiled Sakura's arms around her shoulders and stood, but halted halfway as her friend jerked and let out a sudden yelp.

"S-Sorry, Naoko-chan. I-I… For some reason, my right ankle really hurts when I put weight on it. It feels like snapping when I move my foot…" Sakura panted as cold sweats bit her nape down her spine. She asked herself if she would ever be able to walk normally in the future, or if she would have to spend days and nights sitting on a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She condemned herself for thinking out of bounds, but she couldn't filter what kind of thoughts should pop in her brain.

Naoko's face went even whiter than Sakura's as she tightened her clench around Sakura's wrist, reminding herself not to flop to the ground. The coach assisted Naoko in gently laying Sakura down as she said, "We need someone strong enough to carry Kinomoto-san."

"B-But, coach, that'll be impossible for us, girls. Except, maybe you could…" One of the girls pointed out.

"I wish I could do it myself, really… But I've just been discharged from a spinal surgery around two months ago…"

Naoko nibbled her thumb; something that she would always do when she was raided with distress. She couldn't possibly force her friend to extend her leg and walk with limping legs, but she clearly didn't have enough power to carry her all by herself. Looking at the blood fountain continuously oozing from Sakura's knees, she knew she had to do something fast. She turned her head, to the left, to the right, and to the left again, facing the outdoor sink. She narrowed her eyes and a light bulb suddenly emerged in her head. "Coach! Maybe if we ask them…"

Syaoran clicked his tongue, stared at the stopwatch in his palm, and clicked his tongue again. He was certain that he had stressed the need for all players to gather at the assembly point on the pitch in five minutes flat. It had been more than eight minutes, and he was not happy—the pucker appearing between his thick brows was the proof.

He constrained himself from slamming the digital timepiece in his grip to the ground. "Where the hell is Hiiragizawa!? And Yamazaki? I can't see Saito and Nakamura, too. Where are these fools off to!?"

"Err, captain…" A boy, who Syaoran recognised as one of the first-years who had just joined the club this April, raised his hand.

"What!?" Syaoran spat. As soon as he saw his kouhai's trembling limbs and timid victimised look, he rued the moment he raised his voice, directing his anger towards an innocent soul.

The boy stuttered while trying his best to maintain an eye contact with the captain's blazing ambers, "I-I-I s-saw them n-near the…the sink. S-Should I go to them…"

Syaoran sighed and said—this time, with a softer voice, "Nah. I'll go." As they watched their captain's figure shrunk in the distance, their shoulders sagged as the tense that had been nesting on them sublimed.

Naoko ran to the sink; in her every step, she gathered pieces of her courage to talk with unfamiliar students—who, judging from their heights and looks, seemed to be older than her. Just one metre away from the rackety boys; who were squirting the sink water to each other's face, she stopped to catch her breath and cleared her throat. "Uhh, uhh… Excuse me…"

All of the boys stoned and stopped laughing; at once, they turned to Naoko and seemed to forget about the water that kept flowing from the sink in the background. After realising she wasn't who they were expecting, the boys sighed with relief—which made Naoko wonder if her presence earlier was that daunting. One of the boy, water trickling down from his navy-coloured fringe to his face, smirked as he turned the faucet off. He then winked and clicked his tongue while pointing his hands, formed into guns, to Naoko. "Hey, there, beautiful lass with glasses! What do we have here? I can see an adorable love blooming between a kouhai first-year cheer girl and a senpai third-year from the football club? Wanna hook—"

Another boy, the one with seemingly closed eyes and the tallest one amongst them, kicked Eriol's shin before he could finish his words. "Ahh, sorry, sorry. Don't mind him, he's an idiot. Can we help you?"

Still cringing from the navy-haired's cheesy flirt, she stammered, "Uhh, uhm, y-yes… Actually, my friend—"

Naoko and all the four boys jumped a little when a voice—ear-piercing and filled with murder intent—boomed from behind like the thunder, "OI!" The boys froze still in place; unmoving, only the muscles around their neck bulged a little when they took a gulp, readying themselves to face the wrath of the devil.

Syaoran smacked the back of Eriol's head hard, his glasses jumped to the ground. "You all made the insides of my mouth full with bubbles when I kept and kept stressing to come back in five minutes so we can maximise our time for penalty kick practice!"

He roasted the boys with his flaming eyes, making them shrivel by the heat, and pulled the ear of the tallest one. "If you still can't use your ears properly, then let me unplug them off your head!"

"Whaa-whaaa! It hurts, Li-kun! Sorry, sorry, I promise we've got reasons not to come back in time!"

"What kind of reason, Yamazaki?" His voice was full of venom. "Playing water gun with each other? Don't think I can't see you from the distance."

Naoko, who had been numbed by shock, fear and confusion, braced herself for whatever to come—she readied herself to be slapped on the back of her head, but prayed that he at least wouldn't be serious to cut someone's ears off their head—and decided to take responsibility. "Uhh, uhmm… S-Sorry, I might've caused their lateness…"

Syaoran released Yamazaki's ear, and turned to her; his mouth silent, waiting for the shuddering girl to explain herself.

"M-My friend is injured, and because she can't walk, we need someone strong enough to carry her to the infirmary. So I came to ask for a help…" Her voice trailed off as she fiddled with her fingers, not knowing what reaction she should've expected from the chestnut-haired boy.

"I'll gladly offer my biceps to any damsel in distress!" Eriol bent his right arm and caressed the lumping flesh with his left palm. Naoko would've spewed her bento lunch to the ground had Syaoran not pinched the pervy's stomach.

Silence followed Eriol's whining and Naoko was hoping for Syaoran to at least utter a word so she could stop repeating 'this is so awkward' to herself in her head; but once he did, her heart flumped as Syaoran glared at the boys. "Get your filthy butts back to the pitch now and do some penalty kicks. Ijiwara's been waiting on the goal post for hours, alright?"

"Yikes, bro!" Eriol protested, "I know you don't show interest in girls, but at least, show some compassion to injured ones, dammit!"

One of the boys, the bald one, advocated his friend. "Yeah, Li, I think one of us should go help the girl. Promise it won't take long."

"I'm not saying that I'll be coming with you." Syaoran unstrapped the stopwatch's cord dangling on his neck, tossed it to Eriol—who stumbled to catch it—and waved goodbye to him. "I'm counting on you, vice-captain. You better not abuse my trust."

The girls, especially the third-years, nudged each other with their elbows and jutted their chin to the chestnut-haired boy who was scurrying towards their direction, nodding his head every now and then while the talking girl beside him halted to tap her right ankle, and continued running again.

The coach, who was fanning Sakura's bleeding knees in hope it would somehow help alleviate her student's pain, said to her, "Well done, Kinomoto-san, for bearing the pain until now. Yanagisawa-san is bringing someone who'll be able to help you. Just do it for a little bit longer, that boy will carry you to the infirmary and the nurse will treat you straight away. Don't worry, okay?"

"Y-Yes, coach." It was times like these when Sakura was reminded how she was surrounded by people who genuinely cared for her, even strangers, and it warmed her heart, and in turn felt bad for her anxious coach; who felt bad for her. She felt sorry for her coach as she couldn't take herself to infirmary, so she forced a smile to ease her concern. "You too, coach, don't worry about me. I'll be just fine."

Her coach replied with a wistful smile and her face perked up like a daybreak when Naoko and Syaoran finally arrived at the scene. The boy bent his legs to kneel in front of Sakura, who was still sitting on the ground, but hesitated in doing so. "Uhm, can you climb to my back?"

He stood again, one hand rubbing his nape, and inhaled with his mouth, producing a fizzing sound; he then shook his head and answered his own question, "Probably can't crawl with those bloody knees."

Syaoran crouched beside her, and blurted a 'sorry' as he tucked his left arm to the space behind her bending legs and wrapped the other around her waist. Some of the girls couldn't hold back their urge to squeal and stamp their feet as they watched Syaoran pulling Sakura to his chest. Sakura's right hand subconsciously reached for the end of his jersey's sleeve as he lifted her up. Noticing the tug on his jersey, his head automatically inclined to the pulling source; but immediately turned to the other side when he realised the tip of their noses almost brushed against each other. At this stage, he could only pray the girls weren't fantasising and spread baseless rumours.

As if his fight-or-flight reaction was contagious, Sakura, too, dropped her head; chin glued to her collarbone. She balled her fist on her chest, hoping it would soundproof the drumming beats inside her ribs. Suddenly, she became self-conscious. Her brain kept replaying back the scenes from the past few months where her brother was teasing her for growing wider. She always fought back, claiming fervently that she hadn't gained weight. But now, she was asking what if her brother was true; and the law of karma finally haunted her mind as she remembered herself stealing her brother's pudding yesterday. As she begged for her brother's forgiveness in her heart, she hoped she could curl into a ball and scream to melt away all the strains that was pinching her whole nerve system.

The coach and Naoko once again asked him to take care of her and thanked the good Samaritan before he took off, heading inside the school building. Not a word uttered by both parties as Syaoran walked along the hallway and turned left after passing the seventh door. Only when he ascended the staircase did he hear the girl hissing and she pulled his sleeve with more force. Syaoran realised that carrying her up the stairs had probably caused her dangling injured foot to swing too much, so he slowed down his pace. Still averting his gaze from her face, he cleared his throat. "Uhm, you can probably place your hand on my…shoulder?"

Sakura flushed at the realisation of her off-limits doing and quickly let go of her grip. "S-Sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

"No, no, it's not my intention to reprimand you or anything like that." He said, as he stepped his foot on the first floor, "Really, feel free to place your arm on my shoulder."

Sakura was tempted to accept his offer; as she felt really uncomfortable, not knowing what to do with her right hand that was currently floating awkwardly behind Syaoran's head, but she really didn't want to bother her saviour anymore than this. And besides, wouldn't placing her hand on his shoulder create a more uncomfortable atmosphere anyways?

Catching a glimpse of her reluctance, he reworded his sentence, "I implore you to do that."

"Hoe?" Sakura heard him; she did, very clearly, in fact. But she still couldn't not let a 'hoe' escape from her mouth, her brain hadn't been ready to process his words. "O-Okay…" She whispered as she lowered her hand, and felt the softness of the fabric of his jersey in her right palm, the tingling friction against it that transformed into heat; travelling up to her elbow, shoulder, and neck, and the sudden spasm of his stiffened shoulder as her hand perched on his shoulder.

Once again, silence descended upon the two as Syaoran continued to climb up the stairs and turned to the right on the second floor; and the redness in their cheeks finally faded away at the sight of the infirmary, just two doors away from where they were.

Standing in front of the door, Syaoran blinked his eyes, wondering how should he open the door. Not wanting to take risks, he asked Sakura, "Umm… Can you open the door for me?"

"Hoe! Y-Yes, sorry, my mind sometimes just goes…blank." She reproached her brain for not compromising and knocked the door twice with her left hand. "We're coming in…"

A strong chemical and antiseptic-like smell crept up their nostrils as soon as Sakura slid the door open. In her two months of enrolling at Tomoeda Junior High, this was her first visit to the school's infirmary. Like the rest of the building, the wall was painted in two different tone: leaf green on the upper half, and olive green on the bottom half. The shafts of orange-hued sunlight that beamed through the two big arch windows dimly lit the quiet room. There were a sink and a little fridge nesting on one side of the room and a tall wooden cabinet on the other side of the room; an array of medicine arranged neatly behind its glass doors. A desk stood right next to it, together with a swivel chair, a metal-legged stool and a wash basin stand. There were two white beds, separated by a folded room divider, lay side by side opposite to the oak desk.

What Syaoran had predicted earlier turned out to be true; the nurse had been nowhere to be found. He commended himself for not giving one of the boys permission to escort the injured girl to the infirmary—those fools wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do in this situation. Worse, they would probably try to treat her wounds by themselves without sanitising their hands first, or even try to pick the debris around her wounds with their filthy nails. Just by imagining what kind of infection it would lead to days after that was enough to make him wince.

Syaoran approached the bed nearest to the window and propped one knee against the edge of the bed, as a support, and lay her down as careful as he could possibly be. Sakura clutched a grip on the hem of her skirt; worry painted all over her face. "Looks like the nurse isn't here…"

"Mmm-hmm." Syaoran hummed; he laxly opened the cabinet, taking out a bottle of antibiotic solution, a box of gauze pads, a roll of paper plaster and two dry towels.

Sakura's eyes followed him from the moment he was walking to the cabinet, rummaging the insides of it, walking in her direction, and after putting some stuff he obtained from the cabinet on the bed linen, now he walked to the sink. Unable to contain her curiosity anymore, she asked, "What are you doing?"

Syaoran filled the wash basin with cool water and placed it on the stand. "Doing some preparation."

"For?" She prompted.

It was the first time he washed his hands with such strenuous effort and level of attentiveness; he made sure to thoroughly lather his hands, rubbing them back and forth, heck, he even used two pumps of soap for that. Once the tap was off, he pulled two sheets of tissues out from the box and answered, "Treating your wounds."

"Ehh? You know how to do it properly?"

Syaoran sat on the stool and slid it across the room by pushing his feet to the floor. "Well, I can't even count how many times I've seen real-life first aid demonstration before." He submerged one the towels in the wash basin and rubbed it around Sakura's fresh wounds; first her right knee, and then her left one, and said, "So I guess you can rely on me."

"That's…amazing! Are you a member of the red cross society or something?"

He soaked another towel and warned Sakura it would sting a little before mopping it right on her right knee; once, twice, thrice, streaking the towel with red from both clotting and fresh blood and dark brown from the grimes, and finally he moved to the left when he saw no more dirt stuck to the wound on her right knee. "No, it's just that… I came to the emergency room often."

The linen sheet around Sakura's hands crumpled as she tightened her fists. She bit her bottom lip. "A-Are you implying that you hurt yourself often?"

Syaoran raised one brow as the corner of his lips quirked up at the tinge of a sincere agitation in her tone. "It's not like that. The only reason why I came to ER was just to borrow the chair. I used to wait for my parents to go out for lunch in there. The ER had the cosiest chair in the whole hospital—probably because those who work there don't even have the chance to use them."

Sakura sighed with relief, pleased that his explanation had proven her assumptions wrong. He once again gave notice to her that a smarting sensation was to come before rubbing the antibiotic ointment on her wounds. Sakura jerked a little at the first touch—the sting was a bit more painful than what she'd expected; and the cream was cooler and smoother than she'd imagined it to be; but what she hadn't anticipated at all was the tenderness in his skin brushing against hers. Syaoran placed gauze pads on the wound on her right knee, secured them with paper plasters; and repeated what he'd done to her left one, but right before sticking a plaster on it, he noticed how the pads felt wet on his hand.

At the sight of an expanding red circle on the white pads, he called his judgement, "Seems this one's still bleeding."

"O-Oh no… Wh-what do we do?"

"No worries." His voice was steady; and he took another pad from the box. "Just keep adding one layer at a time and wait until the bleeding stops."

"Hoe! You really are knowledgeable about this—I'm amazed!"

As time ticked by, he'd finally forgotten all the embarrassing scenes earlier and lifted his head—seeing her whole face for the first time in the day. It was as if a current of electricity was crawling in his bloodstreams, fuelling all the hair on his arms to erect, when he saw her eyes: two bright emeralds, bathed with specks of glowing orange sunlight. He knew them. He knew them. He recognised them.

Still holding his breath, Syaoran asked, "Have we…met before?"

Her brows creased, she tilted her head. "Hoe? P-Probably…?"

Probably? So was he only imagining things after all? No. He couldn't have been wrong. He was certain of it. He remembered those eyes; each and every single speck of twinkling stardust amassing the hundreds of the spiralling galaxy that altogether co-exist within the extra-terrestrial biome that those two pair of emeralds held.

Seeing an air of determination flowing from the eyes that were bored into hers, Sakura tried to jog her mind; depicting the face of every boy that lived in the same block as her house and whom she'd met in her new school, but still, nothing came close to his face. "Sorry, I think this is the first time we—"

"You're that person. The one from Twin Bells."

The name rang a bell, but Sakura couldn't remember where she'd heard it from before. "Twin Bells...?"

"You know, that little coffee shop near Li Hospital."

For a moment, the two seemed to have turned into statues as they gazed at each other's sun-basked eyes unblinkingly. It was as if Syaoran had gradually become deaf; the cheer squad's rhythmic music, the shouts of his teammates, the sound of a ball kicked, they all faded away. Only the sound of the clock inside the infirmary ticking and the vibration of his heart were audible—and becoming even louder.

Then Sakura's voice finally shattered the silence, "Ohhhhh! You're that senpai! Uhh… What was it again—Li… Li Syaoran-senpai?"

The muscles around his eyes relaxed as he finally regained the ability to blink again. "You're pretty good with names."

Sakura grinned sheepishly and scratched her itchless, sun-kissed cheek. "N-Not really..." She watched him checking the gauze pads; upon knowing that they weren't leaking with blood anymore, he plastered them onto her left knee. Sakura, content with her freshly treated left knee, drew a circle with her left toe. "What about you? Are you good with names?"

"I'd say pretty good. For starters, I got full marks in human anatomy mini-tests."

"F-Full marks..." Sakura couldn't even remember the last time she landed a B+ on her science exams.

As he held the first aid kit lying on the bed in his arms and walked to the cabinet, a trace of self-praising smile appeared on his face. "It didn't take long to memorise the medical names of bones and muscles."

"Then, do you remember my name?"

The gauze box in his arms bumped to the floor, creating a dull sound. Syaoran's step halted; he wasn't expecting this. He gulped, stooped to pick up the box that he'd dropped, and racked his brain, trying to rewrite her name in his mind. But his effort died in vain. "Uhmm... Well, I... I don't. Sorry."

Sakura giggled and waved her hand. "You don't need to be. I didn't remember your face in the first place anyways...but I did with your name. And even though you forgot my name, you didn't with my face. Right?"

Unwilling to spill the real truth out, he let out an awkward laugh to go with the flow. Well, it was true in the most part, containing only a tiny bit of inaccuracy. It was her eyes that he didn't—or rather, couldn't—forget about her. But for now, he decided that it'd be best to keep that to himself alone.

She concluded her speech, "So, we're even"—and smiled. Syaoran reciprocated the smile and squatted in front of her. Unexpecting, Sakura flinched. "S-Senpai? Wh-what's wrong?"

He began to untie Sakura's left shoelace. "You hurt your ankle too, didn't you? I heard from your friend."

Sakura swallowed the urge to groan and express her pain when she saw Syaoran gnawing his own lip when taking off her shoe in a really slow motion with one hand and propping up her heel with the other, doing his best not to disturb her ankle. He removed the sock off her foot with the same level of attentiveness, unfaltering, not losing focus even for a fragment of a second.

The heavy lump around her ankle that was eating away her power to move it freely tinged with the deepest shade of purple. Unlike her knee, Sakura couldn't find a single trace of scratch or blood leaking anywhere on it; but as if the lump had its own heart, it was twitching, and with every twitch, the flame that burned inside it became more violent.

"Looks like it's bleeding inside pretty badly. You need to go to the doctor and get an X-ray and an MRI for this to see if it's sprained or broken, or both." Syaoran said as he snatched one more sheet of a clean towel and a roll of an elastic bandage from the cabinet and went to the mini fridge next to the sink, opened it, and took out an ice pack from the freezer. He was bundling it up with the towel when the corner of his eyes caught Sakura's brooding face, pallid and stern. He lunged to her and asked, "O-Oi! What's wrong? Does it hurt really badly?"

"Hey…" Her lips quivered. "W-Will I be able to walk again after this?"

The towel-clad ice pack and the elastic bandage in his grips loosened as he sighed. "That's what you were dead-worried about? Don't scare me like that." He began to wrap the long, brown bandage around Sakura's swollen part; starting from the sole of her foot, up to the ankle, leaving the heel exposed, while asking her if it felt too tight, too loose or just right. When he received a "Just right" from her, he clipped the bandage and said, "Of course you'll be able to walk again."

Just as the day that was dying, the pressure flooding inside her heart ebbed away. Sakura never felt so relieved, though the thought of her bone getting fractured still left her stomach lurching.

"Now, can you move back and lie down here?" Syaoran asked as he grabbed the pillow on the bed. Sakura nodded and did as told, taking extra time heaving her right limb up to the bed. When she grunted, Syaoran took the initiative to place one of his hand under her leg, and one clasping her heel; ensuring the injured ankle wasn't exerting itself. "Great," he said as he slipped the pillow in between her injured leg and the bed, and put the ice-pack on top of her ankle. "Now you just need to stay put and maybe call one of your relatives because you'll need someone to carry you home."

"Okay... But why did you put a pillow there?"

"Rest. Ice. Compression. Elevate." He said as he counted to four with his hand, folding one finger at a time, "Rest your injured ankle, or basically just don't try to use it. Ice the swollen bit. Compress with bandage. And raise your ankle above heart-level. Do this for the next two or three days to minimise the swelling."

"Hoeee... You really do know much about this stuff, huh? I'm... I'm impressed!"

"Nothing much. What I did was just relieving the pain by reducing the swelling, though. Remember that you'll still need to see the doctor."

"Okay," She smiled. "I'll probably go to Li Hospital since it's the nearest to our house... Hoe? Wait. L-Li Hospital... LI Hospital!?"

"You... You've just noticed that?" He sighed as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, not only that my parents work there, but it was founded by my grandfather, apparently."

"Ho-hoeeee! No wonder you're really familiar with first aid stuff! Not only that you're good with practical skills, you've even nailed your tests! You're also in the football club, right? It must feel really good to be an all-rounder! How very different from me. The only skills I can be proud of are my athletic abilities."

Suddenly, the blood supply to his cheeks seem to be overflowing and he couldn't find a reasonable explanation to justify why he was scratching his head. Unable to contain the flattery, he decided to bring up an irrelevant topic. "Come to think of it, how did you fall again?"

Her eyes traced the shadows of the window bars cast by the sun that glowed red like a fire on the ceiling. "I did say that I'm confident with my athletic skills, but like my brother said, I guess I can still be rather clumsy… He always teases me for messing up with baton twirling!" Sakura brandished her fist when a flash of her brother's satirical face crossed her mind. "But…" A faint trace of longing tinged in her trailing voice. "This time, I really wasn't being clumsy, you know."

She turned her head away from him, facing the flaring sun at the corner of the window. Her hands clasped, resting on top of her constantly rising and falling chest. "When I jumped earlier, it felt like I was one with the sky. And it just reminded me of my mum, who went there eight days ago."

Syaoran's eyes flung open as he revisited the memories from his past. Oh, right. She got a wide paper bag from Li Hospital when I first met her at Twin Bells. Throat parched, his voice came out hoarse. "I'm… I'm really sorry for your loss."

She turned to him and shook her head; and her lips curved. "You don't have too. I've promised my mum not to immerse myself in sorrow for too long after all. Otherwise, I will make my mum, who's watching me right now, sad."

Syaoran never doubted his eyes, since he always took care of them—he never read in the dark or when lying down, and he always limited his daily time using the computer for two hours at the longest. But today, at this moment, he couldn't believe what he was seeing: a smile, coming from a 12-year old girl, talking about her deceased mother in such a calm state when she had just passed away barely two weeks ago—no, actually rounding down to one week would be much more acceptable. Her smile wasn't of the type seen when people were hanging out together in an amusement park; it wasn't the sort of smile painted on a father's face when he witnessed his daughter throwing a cap at her graduation ceremony; it was also not of the kind seen when a couple was staring at their newly born baby. It wasn't a beaming smile, but still, the fact that she was able to smile was a solid proof of how tough she was. But, even then, he couldn't bear seeing her wearing that smile—it just broke his soul. He knew he shouldn't compare and tried to fit his feet in her shoes, but thinking about himself—who couldn't even bear to take a peek at the outside world from his shell that he'd built to exclude himself from everything else—had made his blood tingle with shame and admiration.

He was toiling his mind; searching for every possible thing he could do to ensure he'd never see her make that face again, when he saw clouds forming in her pair of emeralds, a premonition of an imminent rainfall.

"But… But, you know. I don't know why I'm doing this." Sakura pressed her arms against her face, hoping that they would somehow absorb the tears that escaped her eyes and conceal her crumpled face. She said while suppressing her hiccups, "I kept telling myself to stop. But I've already lost count of how many times I've broken my promise, even though I really, really want to keep the promise that I've made with my mum."

Syaoran clenched his jaw as he turned his gaze away from her. He took one deep breath, walked away from her to the other bed and flattened the room divider out. "I'll be right here, where I can't see you… But I'm going to stay with you."

He paused. "So, cry. Cry your lungs out. Scream, even. Give a chance to yourself to break your promise today, but never again tomorrow and ever after."

And he sat there, elbows on his knees, squeezing his eyes; listening to the crack of her heart gradually seeping out from her soul through her sniffles, sobs and wails.

The pocket-sized, metallic rose mobile phone in her grip flipped open, closed, and flipped again, and closed again, as if it was a hungry clamshell, looking for something to snack on. It's fortunate of her that the hinge didn't break, Syaoran thought to himself as he took a glance at her.

She flipped open her mobile phone again and sighed as it closed and spun in her hand; the little wing-shaped charm attached to it followed like a lasso. It was already 20:04, according to her phone—which was thirty minutes after her brother, Touya, last texted her, notifying her that he was on his way to Tomoeda Junior High from the bakery he worked part-time for. Her dad, Fujitaka, was out of town; currently attending an excavation site in Hokkaido. Nightfall had already brooded over Tokyo's sky—and so, Syaoran had no choice but to turn the infirmary's light on.

"Umm… Senpai, it's perfectly fine if you want to go home. Please." Sakura begged with her raspy after-cry voice.

"Hm?" His thumbs were pounding the plastic keys on his green mobile phone at the rate of a heavy rainfall hitting the ground. His back parted from the pile of pillows that he had been leaning on and straightened as his face zoomed at the tiny screen of his phone. Just then, his shaky, overused right thumb cramped, and he watched the head of the long snake on his phone's grainy screen rammed into its own body. Game over. He buried his face to the pillow, and blamed his non-compromising right thumb. With his arms dangling at both edges of the bed, he turned to Sakura. "Sorry, I was really close to ending the game." He then sat properly on the bed, legs folded. "And in response to what you said earlier—no. I'll stay until your brother comes to pick you up."

"But it's already so dark outside."

"All the more reason why I should wait with you, then." Syaoran said as he cracked his knuckles, readying himself for the sixteenth round of Snake game.

"But, won't your family be worried? They're probably waiting for you to come home to start dinner together as we speak." Sakura tapped her phone on her chin as her mind wondered whether Touya already had his dinner or not.

"Hmm… Let's just say today they're eating out, and they didn't wait for me, so they're probably eating as we speak. In fact, they've probably eaten without me."

"Hoe? But then, how will you eat dinner?"

"No big deal. A ramen cup or two will do."

Her lips turned into a purse, emitting a ball of air like an angry volcano. Of course, she appreciated his kindness for treating her wounds and staying with her; even providing reassurance during her breakdown to top it off. But she wasn't satisfied if it meant he would be sacrificing his own health.

"Please, instant ramen will not do."

A repressed laugh escaped from his mouth. Did he just hear his kouhai scolding him? He saw his face smiling at his phone screen's reflection. "Fine. I'll ask the maids to prepare something when I came home. It's going to be a hassle for them, I'm sure, but I'm going to properly apologise to them. So, there. No instant ramen. Happy now?"

A smile, that of a beaming one, formed on her lips. As Syaoran heard her concurring in his plan, he was left wondering why would him eating cup ramen bother her anyways? He bet his entire saving that not even his mother would care how many cups of ramen he'd devour in a day. He sighed, knowing that no matter how much money he had in his saving, he wouldn't be able to buy the love he desperately sought from her. But, oh well, it was nice knowing that somebody cared for him—even if she was more or less a stranger. Come to think of it, Syaoran still wasn't able to recall her name. But, at this stage, he wasn't sure if he should be asking—since he didn't want to sound like an old demented guy.

The thoughts of comparing the pros and cons of asking her name were bubbling in his mind when he heard the infirmary's door jerked open.

"Sakura!?" A man, his skin tan and his head was almost touching the upper door frame, barged in to the infirmary. Oh, right. Cherry blossoms. That's it.

"Onii-chan!"

"Geez! What the heck happened to your foot!? I haven't been able to focus on work since you texted me, so I had Yuki fill in and left early."

Fearing Touya's explosion, she stammered, "Uhh… S-Sorry… Well, like I've explained, I fell during my cheer practice… And then, and then—"

"She scraped her knees." Syaoran climbed down the bed and took over to enlight Touya, leaving Sakura awe-struck at his formal and elaborated explanation. "But they should be fine after some good two or three weeks. It might or might not leave a scar, but I've already done my best to minimise the likeliness by getting the basic first aid done. To further prevent the chance of scarring, don't let it get wet, replace the gauze pads once a day or when it accidentally gets wet, and don't pick on the clotting blood."

"What? Who are you?" Touya narrowed his eyes, scanning him from head to toe as if he was assessing him as a suspect taken to the police station.

"Li Syaoran-senpai." Sakura introduced him as she heaved her upper body and leaned it to the bed frame. "He's the one who was treating my wounds because the nurse was already gone when we came here."

Syaoran continued with his explanation, "As for the ankle, please take her to the hospital as soon as possible to see if it's a sprain or something more serious than that. Keep resting, icing, compressing and elevating it and all should go well."

The stare that Touya had been piercing into Syaoran's eyes was still screaming perplexity, scepticism and 'Why are you here together alone with my sister?' But Touya decided for now it would be best to take his words with a grain of salt and later discuss the truth in them with the internet as soon as he got back home, although he couldn't resist that the gauze pads on her sister's knees and the bandage around her ankle looked neat and even professionally done; Touya wouldn't suspect a thing if Sakura said they were done by the school's official nurse.

"Well… Thanks… I guess…" Touya muttered to Syaoran, but his face was honest and read: 'But I still can't forgive you for being alone together with my sister for hours'; by which Syaoran telepathically replied with 'Well, I'm sorry for rescuing your younger sister' by reciprocating his icy stare.

"Thank you very much for everything you've done, Li-senpai." Sakura said as she climbed to Touya's back.

"Don't mention it. I did say I'd treat you well as a senpai if you went to this school after all." He smirked, half-provoking Touya; which was successful when he noticed his face scrunched up, as if he was about to vomit at any given time.

"Still, thank you very much. I really do appreciate your kindness. I hope we'll bump into each other often after this—since now it's my time to return the favour and keep my promise to be a good kouhai."

Touya, who was piggybacking her, hunched more and more at every word that came out of his little sister's mouth; he knew it was probably just formality but he still couldn't help his gut twisting. And when he noticed the flame of scarlet crossing from the boy's left cheek to the other one, he strode out of the room without delay; ignoring his sister who was punching his one arm, complaining that it was rude of them to not say goodbye to him.

Meanwhile, still stupefied in the infirmary, Syaoran fell to the grey chair in front him, dishevelled his chestnut hair and questioned himself. Why did his chest feel really stuffy and his heart kept racing when he wasn't even doing anything?

He sighed, "I probably need to go to the hospital and get some check-ups myself."

A/N: Hi again folks. I know. I know how horrible I've been for putting this story on hold for such a long time.. It's been like half a year. FORGIVE ME :') Anyways, it's been such a slow start—I haven't even delved into the start of the story yet *cries* but I'm getting there, so stay tuned, review to let me know what you think and follow to get notified!