Chapter Twenty-Five

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

Love itself is calm; turbulence arrives from individuals.

~ Chinese Proverb

Syaoran was on his feet in a blink. His fingers curved towards him, ready to slam the back of his palm into Sakura's skull. Her muscles tightened, steeling herself for the inescapable blow. None came. She peeled back one eyelid to see why her head had not been split open on the ground. Syaoran's hand shook mid-air but he simply stared at her, as if frozen in time. Just as she thought the strike would come, he dropped his hand to his side and exhaled.

Sakura's chest pumped in and out rapidly, and her knees tremoured beneath her hanfu. She had not planned to slap him. He had shown great restraint, but the Syaoran watching her was not the one she had come to know. He was not even the Great Imperial Son she had first met. He was something else and she would be lying if she said it did not cause her any distress. So how was it, that she was still able to breathe air when Meilin had received worse than this for far less. Was Syaoran silently devising a suitably painful punishment for her?

"I thought we had an understanding, Kinomoto?" he said, his glare now focussed on Touya.

Touya lowered his hand from his katana's hilt and the soldiers around him lowered their hands from their broadswords. Sakura gasped softly. Had she almost gotten her brother killed?

"Did we?" was his cool reply to the emperor.

Syaoran's nostrils flared but whatever emotions were churning inside him, they were not quite breaching the surface yet.

"…Xiao Lang..." Syaoran's stare turned frostier and Sakura corrected herself immediately, "Huangdi."

She made to clutch his arm, but he recoiled. Her eyes widened. When had he ever avoided her touch?

"Enough rest," he said to Yue. "Resume the march."

"Huangdi!" called Sakura, again.

His turned his back to her.

Yue looked from him to her. Then he nodded to Syaoran and stood. Sakura could not believe Syaoran was ignoring her like this. Any reaction, even a bad one, she would welcome. His openly calm disregard of her was humiliating – like she was too lowly to even deserve punishment let alone acknowledgement.

"Li Xiao Lang, you will look at me!"

Every man nearby exchanged looks with his neighbour. No doubt, they were amazed at her daring and confused at Syaoran's lack of penalties on this woman who had struck him. Sakura knew she was pushing her luck but Syaoran's abandonment had made her reckless.

He still had not yet shown any sign that he was listening to her. He continued giving orders to a general nearby like she was not there. Her lips trembled as hot tears burst into her eyes. He was not the only one who knew how to hurt.

"Fine," she said. "I will return to Japan as the emperor orders. It may be difficult considering my circumstances but I'm sure I can find a man better than you and maybe I'll have his child too!"

She turned to make her escape, leaving the shocked expressions of the soldiers who heard her in her wake. Yes, she had spoken in Chinese, so everyone understood. He might be their ruler but right then he was a disgraceful husband and father.

"Hoe!"

She stumbled, her arms flailing. Her hanfu was caught in a death grip. She grabbed it and yanked the material from Syaoran's grasp. His hand clamped down on her wrist. She pulled it away, but he caught it again, holding it firmer this time.

"Let me go!"

She pulled at his fingers, but they were iron. They struggled - she trying to pull away from him and Syaoran attempting to stop her. It was quick. Somehow, he managed to get her hands behind her back. He had her pressed into his warm chest, his hand holding her steady at the back of her neck.

His nose was pressed against hers. His hair tickled her face. There was little space between their bodies as he stared down at her with his intense eyes coloured with flecks of gold. She found herself leaning into him because truly, his touch felt reassuring even in his anger.

"I was willing to forgive your violence towards me punishable by death," said Syaoran. "I still am. But you will do well to remember who you're talking to. You are mine. If any other man touches you-"

"I'll be far away from you." She tried to pull away from him, but he did not budge. "I'm not your wife, your consort or your concubine anymore - I can do whatever I want!"

"You're beginning to sound like your brother."

"Good."

A vein in his temple twitched but he said no more.

"Did you think I would stay alone forever?" she asked.

"Yes."

Sakura did not know what to say. That single word hung in the air, thick and full of arrogance and conceit. Sure, she may not be able to be married, but she could in fact be someone else's concubine if they were rich enough to support her.

"But as I look at your beautiful face," he said, his cheek nudging against hers and his lips hovering over her neck. "I realize many men may be willing to overlook a few things."

A slight tremor ran through him and he was no longer holding her to subdue her; it felt more like the possessive embrace of a lover. Sakura vaguely remembered him becoming excited once when they had some small quarrel when she was pregnant. Was Syaoran excited in some way right now? How could he be aroused and angry at the same time? How could anyone?

She raised her shoulders and edged back. This time he let her leave his arms.

"Why did you leave me?" she asked in Japanese. "You don't want me anymore? Or are you mad at me?"

"Sakura..." He was fixated on some spot just behind her, his eyes full with some haunted look she did not understand. "Don't you want to go home?"

"Why did you leave me?"

He looked at her, almost reverently. Then his gaze turned blank.

"Huangdi?"

That word broke the trance he was slipping into. He shook his head.

"I have thought about how much you have endured since the first time I saw you," he said. "In my mind, nothing bad was ever supposed to happen to you. So now that they have, it sickens me. I cannot look at you without feeling ashamed. I should have done more to protect you. Your brother is right to want to take you home."

His eyes narrowed.

"Sometimes I wish Wei never met you. It's his fault, always wanting to bring me things from his travels." Syaoran tilted his head. "Wouldn't you like to go back to Japan?"

"So you're not mad at me?" asked Sakura, ignoring his question for a second time.

"No."

"And you," she blushed. "You still want me?"

He stepped back and she moved forward, quickly closing the space between them. The nearer she was to him, the less self-conscious she felt. He continued to move back, and she continued to press forward. She raised a hand and touched his chin with her fingertips.

"There's nothing you could say to make me leave you," she said. "And you can't tell me to leave yourself. So, stop this foolishness, husband."

"Sakura…"

Her hand moved to his cheek.

"Do you still love me? Because if you love me and I love you, it doesn't matter what bad things happen. We'll always be here for each other and everything will surely be alright."

His hand covered her own on his cheek. Then, after what seemed like ages, he said, "I thought you would hate me."

"For what?"

"The child."

Everything fell into perspective for Sakura. She shook her head as if to say, 'Oh Xiao Lang...'

"He's fine," she told him.

Syaoran's eyes slid to Touya then back to her.

"Alive?" he asked, almost breathless.

"Yes. Stronger each day."

His features went cold again which startled her. His child being alive was not good news? He removed her hand from his face.

"We must resume the march now," he told her. "I prefer we talk later. In private."

She nodded numbly and he turned his attention to his generals. He dished out curt orders in an attempt to throw them off the spectacle they had just witnessed, no doubt. Even so, Sakura caught a few disapproving and outraged looks that were sent her way. Clearly, they would have dealt with her behaviour very differently. They were wise enough however, not to say anything to Xiao Lang.

That evening, Syaoran walked around the camp for hours. He knew Sakura was in his tent, but he did not want to see her just yet. How could he approach her now? He had assumed the child was dead and now he realized just how stupid he was to leave her alone to bear that burden. He had told Yue that he knew it was painful to women when their children died. He should have stayed with her, but he was afraid she would hate him and now it was obvious he had been thinking more about himself than her. He groaned. He could not avoid his witch forever.

He went to his tent and though he hesitated, he finally entered. Sakura's back was to him and when she turned around, he went stiff. A small mouth was latched onto the tip of her breast, sucking boisterously.

For the briefest moment, he felt disoriented. What the fuck was going on? It took a while to gather his thoughts. It was not exactly something he saw every day. He felt like he was intruding on something private and forbidden. Then he was furious another human being had such intimate contact with her. But it was ridiculous, because it was a child. His child. He almost turned on his heel and ran, but Sakura smiled at him with reassurance.

Syaoran ventured to take a closer inspection. He looked down into the bundle of cloths and the boy's eyes opened. Syaoran pulled his head back sharply. The baby stared at him and he had the strange sensation of looking into his own amber eyes.

The boy's brows creased for a moment at the strange face in front of him. Finding that he was fine with this being, he closed his eyes, curled into the cloth and continued his meal. He obviously did not mind having a spectator.

"I almost can't believe it is still alive," he said, regarding the child like some bizarre but interesting creature.

"He's alive. He looks fragile now, but he'll grow big and strong, like his father."

Syaoran moved away.

"You should bridle your excitement."

Sakura frowned at him.

"You sound like you want him to die."

"I don't want it to die," said Syaoran. "I know how much you want it. I am only reminding you to be realistic. It is weak."

"I won't let you talk about your own son like that," said Sakura. He raised a brow at her chastising tone, and she added, "Yes, he is your son. Can't you call him that? He is not an "it.""

Syaoran stripped off the remains of the armour he was wearing, without any response. Something about the child in Sakura's arms changed things but he could not decide if that was good or bad.

"Do you want to hold him?" she asked.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

Her voice sounded strained but Syaoran was adamant.

"I'm sure." He cracked his fingers. "Should you really be standing like this? Lie down. Sit at least. Hing-sensei told me you would need months of rest."

Sakura sat on his cot. Syaoran recognized the cloth the baby was wrapped in as one of Sakura's pre-birth projects.

"You finished one," he said, gesturing to it.

She shook her head.

"Onii-chan did."

The baby released Sakura, and Syaoran followed the sight of her naked breast as it slipped behind her clothes. Unconsciously, he licked his lower lip and bit down on it. It had been months since he had been with Sakura. He remembered how warm and comforting it felt to be inside her.

"You said you weren't angry with me," said Sakura.

"I'm not," confirmed Syaoran.

"Then why won't you hold-?" She sighed in defeat before she even made a challenge. "The baby's seventh day has long passed. You can name him now, if you want."

Syaoran thought the Japanese named their children rather early but he said nothing of that.

"You're getting excited again."

He expected that to be the end of the conversation, and that they would go to sleep now.

"He's my first son," said Sakura. "Ichiro then."

Syaoran's temple twitched. Quite unimaginative, he thought, but he remained silent.

"Or Xiao Lang."

"Are you mad?"

"Why not?" asked Sakura, cool and carefree.

"You cannot name it after me!" Syaoran could not believe the nerve of this woman. "It's bad luck."

Sakura shrugged.

"You don't have any suggestions. You don't want to hold him. I suppose you don't care. So Xiao Lang will be his name. It's what I want."

"Sakura."

He set his jaw and glared at her. He really did not think she appreciated just how taboo naming a child after his father was in his culture.

"Fine," said Syaoran, relenting. "I'll name it - him - when I'm ready. I don't want to hear anything else on this topic."

He turned on his side, back facing Sakura, ready to sleep. She abruptly burst into laughter. He craned his neck to look at her.

"What's so funny?"

"You really thought I would name him Xiao Lang," she said. "Everyone knows that's bad luck."

Syaoran scoffed.

"Witch."

He could not stop the small smile that broke across his face. Sakura got up, blew out the lamp and settled herself down beside him again. He rolled over, wrapping an arm around her and the baby so they would stay still and not disturb him while he was sleeping. He kissed Sakura's neck and pulled her back into his chest.

The feel of her body moulded to his was heavenly. He felt a familiar stirring in his lower half, but he suppressed the feeling and thoughts. Now was not the time. It was wrong that in any mood she was appealing to him. It was worst that when Sakura was angry, he felt like taking her rough, have her fight him a little. Syaoran smirked but then gave himself a mental kick.

Now was not the time.

"Xiao Lang?"

"Yes."

"I was really scared when he was born. You shouldn't have left."

"I know."

"Would you have come back?"

"I don't know."

"Don't do that to me again."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good night," she whispered.

She sounded calm but Sakura's hand gripped Syaoran's tightly all through the night. She did not trust his words anymore and that knowledge was a knife to his heart.

Though Syaoran and Sakura talked with each other as though nothing had changed, the fact remained that Syaoran had carved a deep valley between them. Sometimes he caught her staring at him, at times concerned, other times with anxiety. One night, he awoke to her sobbing. He lay still and pretended to be asleep. What could he say? So, he let her cry.

One evening, he sat outside his tent in deep thought. He wanted to lavish Sakura with attention and touches of affection and love, but such things did not come to him naturally. She did not know it, but she made him unsure of himself. Also, his main focus was Lu Sheng and no matter how many times he willed his mind towards Sakura, that dark presence was ever in the back of it.

Sakura had explained to him the connection she had with his cousin. Sheng was right when he said not every magic needed to be spoken. Kinomoto Touya had a connection to her as well. Sakura just did not see it as such - she simply attributed his ways as highly intuitive or brotherly instinct. Syaoran hated Sheng even more now for being so intimate with her.

It started to rain, and his eyes drifted to the distance. There were tall peaks visible amongst the clouds. He could not see them all, but he knew where each one was located. It was his home. Soon he would be at the gates of the Forbidden City.

He went inside and watched Sakura and the boy. She was still trying to get Syaoran to hold him, but the idea made him uncomfortable. He had given up on the child quite early so to accept him now was difficult. What if he got attached to him and tonight was his last? Syaoran settled behind them and began drifting off to sleep when he heard an odd gurgling noise. His eyes flew open. There it was again! Now it sounded like laughter a bit. He peaked over Sakura's shoulders and saw that the child was awake. Should he wake her up? Maybe it was hungry?

The child saw him and Syaoran dipped back down, out of sight. He shook his head. What was he doing? He looked over at the boy again and a small hand reached out to him. He stuck out a finger, just to brush against the child's hand but the boy's fingers clutched his own tightly. The child's toothless grin stopped his breath. Then, he made that odd gurgling noise again. Syaoran tried to pull his hand back but the child was not having it.

"Let go," he whispered, and the child tilted his head as if to listen better. Before he could stop himself, he stated, "Little boys should listen to their fathers."

The boy only made more gurgling sounds which turned into squeals of delight. The corners of Syaoran's mouth curved. He could only imagine what the child was trying to say. The boy tried to pull Syaoran's finger to his mouth but Syaoran kept his digit where it was. Something in him came to life and he lay there, staring in awe at the child's simple antics and sounds of joy. He put his nose close to the child. He smelled the same way Yue had described babies' scents, pure.

Seeing his son so innocent and free of duty made Syaoran feel oddly rueful. Soon enough, the boy's eyes would be cold from his training as a prince of China. That silly grin would be beaten away and most likely, he would be the one to do it. Would his son come to view him in the same way he viewed his own father – all respect with no affection? No true love?

"I do not want you to hate me," he whispered to the child. "I do not want you to be like me though many would say you should aspire to it."

Sakura shifted and turned to him, her green eyes brimming with unspoken sympathy.

"I'm sorry," said Syaoran.

Suddenly hit with emotion, he pressed his lips to hers and she returned the kiss. Every tense muscle in his body went loose and he gave in to her sweet taste. He deepened the kiss, needing more of her to salvage his heart. Warmth spread through him and his body tingled in what he knew was happiness.

"You're crying," Sakura murmured.

"What?"

Now that she mentioned it, he felt wet trails on his cheeks. He wiped at the tears, staring at his shaking hands like they were covered in blood.

"Xiao Lang..."

A familiar qi blasted through his mind. It was so potent, it left him winded. Regaining himself, Syaoran jumped to his feet and rushed out the tent. Yue, along with Lei and Renshu were heading in the same direction. They had felt the qi too, and the man behind it had no qualms about pushing out his insufferable energy.

"What is this?" asked Touya.

He and Nakuru were now running beside Syaoran as well, some soldiers following behind without orders. They came upon a man sitting on a horse in a clearing. He grinned.

"You!" Syaoran bit out.

The man smirked.

"I thought you'd never show up," he said, leaping from the horse; the poor animal looked about ready to faint.

Enlai grabbed his covered Guandao and stood proudly before Syaoran. He did not seem disturbed by the fact that he was severely outnumbered. Syaoran did not know why he was engaging in such thoughtless behaviour but that was not his problem. He released his sword and stepped forward.

"Enlai."

"Prince."

"Did Lu Sheng sent you to... assassinate me? How honourable a man."

A sinister look smirk across Enlai's face.

"No one sent me. I consider this a favour." Enlai flamboyantly whipped the covering off his Guandao allowing everyone to be dazzled by the polished blade. "Unlike your people, I have a mind of my own. Before this battle begins, I want a rematch."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow. He came all this way, into enemy forces, for a rematch?

"I trust your pets will allow us to duel without interference."

"Watch your words!" said Renshu.

Enlai's smirk widened but Syaoran had taken note that his carefree attitude was not reaching his eyes.

"Lots of bark in this one. I seem to remember a few princes running with their tails between their legs. You don't happen to be one of them, do you?"

"In the remote possibility that you win," said Lei, stopping Renshu's retort. "Do you expect us to let you go?"

"Yes, because this is a duel between warriors, and you must honour that. You can start by putting that magic bow of yours down," he said to Yue, who was aiming a blue magic arrow at him.

Syaoran nodded to Yue and his blue bow of light disappeared.

Enlai swung his Guandao between his hands a few times. There was a loud whooshing sound each time he swung the weapon. He relaxed into an offensive stance.

"I can beat you," he said.

"How? Do you have another poisoned tip?" asked Syaoran.

Enlai grit his teeth.

"That was Harmless' idea!" he said, like a spoiled little boy. "He may doubt me, but I know my skill! Anyway, I've been refining my techniques asshole."

"You know what your cousin's idea?" asked Enlai, his tone taunting. "To share your pretty concubine when he grew tired of her. She bathed us, she fed us; you won't believe the positions we bent that body into."

Syaoran halted and he saw Touya's body stiffen.

"Regrettably, your mother isn't as flexible."

Syaoran turned to Enlai, his eyes golden. If tonight was the night Enlai wanted to see the afterlife, he would oblige him.

"He's trying to provoke you," said Yue.

Syaoran approached Enlai and slid into a battle stance of his own.

"Do not interrupt us."

He knew Enlai was trying to provoke him but Syaoran could not stand this insult. In his mind, he saw Sakura beneath the man and that made him see red.

Syaoran regarded Enlai, shifting his weight slightly to get his stance just right. For a long time, no one moved. The horse panted, a wind blew, a leaf fell from a nearby tree… those were the sounds Syaoran heard as he sized up his opponent.

The leaf landed gently on the ground.

In a flash, both men darted to each other. Just as Syaoran remembered, Enlai wielded his Guandao with deadly precision. His blows were lightning quick, and he brought them down like a hammer on nail. The loud clashes of blade on blade rang out. The two men flew apart, whipping their weapons around in front of them. They struck yet another battle stance, holding their positions for a while, and then circling.

Enlai was just deciding where and when his next attack would be when Syaoran disappeared.

He looked around in alarm.

"What the-?"

Golden eyes appeared right in front of him and Enlai barely had time to evade Syaoran's blow. Recovering quickly, he swung his Guandao horizontally and its blade, collided with Syaoran's jian knocking him to the floor. Syaoran rolled out of the way just as the guandao smashed into the spot he had occupied moments before. Enlai followed him relentlessly.

Growing irritated that he had yet to connect with Syaoran's flesh, Enlai stomped the ground, cracking it all the way to where Syaoran had managed to get to his feet. Earth flew into the air and Syaoran took the brunt of it. He sliced into a Syaoran's shoulder but faltered when Syaoran glared at him like some ferocious deity from hell.

"You have improved," said Syaoran, like a teacher to a student. "But that won't be enough to save you."

Enlai roared as he attacked Syaoran with wild abandon. There was a series of bone-shattering blows repelled by Syaoran. When he saw an opening, he spun low, slicing through Enlai's thigh. Enraged, Enlai followed Syaoran, blindly slashing down on him but again Syaoran's blade connected, this time, with his left arm.

He circled Enlai like a starving wolf. He enjoyed the look of doubt on the man's face. He was strong, very strong, but not enough to defeat him! He glanced at the blood on his sword. So little. The silver of the blade should be bathed in it!

He dived towards Enlai. It was always difficult to get past a long-range weapon. Syaoran was not deterred. He had a momentum going. Enlai was torn and slowing; his body was shaking but he stood like a champion.

"I will..." he breathed, laboriously.

Syaoran took up yet another battle stance. Enlai followed his lead.

"I will be... I will beat..."

Enlai swayed on his feet. Against his own accord, his Guandao fell to the floor. He stared at it, then at his hand in confusion. Enlai pulled back his battered clothes to look at the wound on his arm. Blood was flowing from it like water over a waterfall. He gave a short, incredulous laugh. His body gave out and he fell to his knees.

"Sheng will never... let me live this down..."

Syaoran strode up to him. He placed the tip of his jian at the thin flesh between his collar bone and shoulder. Enlai looked up at him, all fight gone from his body. Deliberate in his slowness, Syaoran pushed his jian into the spluttering from Enlai's lips. A smirk crept onto Syaoran's face as his sword sunk into the man's heart. He ripped his sword from Enlai and stumbled back.

Another powerful qi scalded the air. A cloaked figure, surrounded by a dark mist appeared beside Enlai, cradling him in its arms. The violet-haired man said nothing; he only looked at Enlai, dead in his arms. Horror and disbelief were etched into the man's features, but he did not make a sound.

A blew crystal flew past Syaoran's face, straight towards the man but he raised his hand, and the Yue's crystal dissipated. The man threw Enlai over his shoulder and dissolved into air.

A/N:

Hey Tomodachi! Guest, from my recollection I believe this story has about 32 chapters. Until next time, Ja ne. ^