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Ad Finem 
('til the end) 
A work of Card Captor Sakura fanfiction 
by Michelle
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This story contains SPOILERS for the entire manga series as well
as shonen ai (homosexual themes) and VAST quantities of what my
onee-sama calls 'WAFF' and I call 'Undiluted sap.' You have been
warned.

This is a sequel to my first Sakura story 'Persephone's Dilemma.'
Unlike 'Persephone's Dilemma,' Ad Finem is primarily a romance.
Some magical theory is discussed, but it isn't the main point of
this story.

None of these characters belong to me. Really. Not one.

Did I forget anything? Oh, yeah. If you read this, I'd love to hear
what you thought. I'm always searching for ways to improve my writing, 
so I appreciate negative comments as much as positive ones as long as 
they are polite and constructive. If you just want to say whether you 
liked it, though, that is greatly appreciated also.

Enjoy!

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===========
Chapter Two
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 If it were just a matter of lighting the stupid candle, she
would have given up hours ago. Yue was right that the spells she
was currently obsessed with were ridiculously attention demanding
and silly. When they were ten years old, she'd seen Syaoran
light her brother's sleeve on fire with much better aim and from
quite a distance with negligeable effort. A single ward had been
the only tool he'd needed, and they'd both outgrown those by
junior high. Yet here she stayed day after day searching for the
answers that would keep her lifetime's work from fading after she
died. Any sensible magician apparently wouldn't have bothered.

 She hadn't had any success at *all* with the light spell,
and the fire spell wasn't coming any easier. She knew there was
a way to channel her magic into the symbols and runes on the
floor, but she couldn't seem to flip the mental switch. Magical
energy she had plenty of, but in this foreign system, that didn't
help her if she couldn't figure out how to tap into it.

 Rubbing her eyes, she sat back. Perhaps if she'd begun her
education with "simple" works like this one, she wouldn't be
giving herself headaches trying to reconcile them to the
intuitive system that she'd developed so that she and her friends
would live through the forth grade. This was going to take a
little longer than she'd originally thought.

 It wasn't that her system or Clow's weren't good enough. 
There were so few things she'd ever had a desire to do magically
that she hadn't been able to accomplish. It was true that she
would give much to know how to solve this current problem, and
that by nature, her innovations separate her from whatever other
magical communities may exist to consult about Yue, but she
wouldn't trade her two guardians and the ability to fix nearly
any problem with a minimum of fuss for all the respect or acclaim
of colleagues ever shared by the greatest circle drawers on
earth.

 Sakura couldn't possibly have cared less whether any portion
of humanity ever knew her name or a single detail of her life
after she was gone, but she would not leave her work unfinished. 
She would not allow any heir who would inherit Clow's legacy --
and heirs there must be -- to go through the trials and tragedies
that had marred her own young life.

 In so many ways she suspected that Clow had left his work
long before he had planned to. There were so many problems that
had remained unsolved until she herself, knowing or otherwise,
had taken responsibility for them. Resolved them. And in that
one awful, painful case, failed to resolve them.

 She wouldn't burden another with them. Not if it meant
fighting to live another two or three thousand years. The very
thought made her weary to the core, but she'd do it. She'd find
the power and the technique somewhere.

 "Yue," she said. "I won't let anything happen to you. I
won't!"

 But discouragement was setting in. Too many years. Too
many problems. She was trying to be brave, to be optimistic, but
this latest dead end weighed upon her heavily. It was time to
take a break, get some fresh air, and try to regain her
perspective. 


***


 Now that he thought about it, Keroberus wondered why it
hadn't occurred to him that Sakura-chan wouldn't be with them
forever. He supposed that he'd known it on some level, but had
imagined also that she was too strong to fade. Too full of life
to long for the peace of death.

 But then, he had never expected Clow to leave them either.
_Oh, master,_ he thought with great regret. _How could I have
been so foolish?_

 Unusually subdued, he had looked for solitude and had found
a warm fireplace to curl up in front of while he considered how
to help her. It was strange to ask himself that question. After
all, it had been centuries since those days when she'd needed him
as anything other than a friend. Ages and ages since he'd felt
like much of a teacher or advisor or especially protector. It
seemed now that she was determined to hide the extent of her
frustration. Indeed, the very fact that she was attempting to
find a solution to the reflected light problem was a revelation. 
Why hadn't she confided? At least in him? Why had she continued
to suffer alone? 

 He suspected that part of the reason may have been her
continued feelings of guilt over her early days as Yue's master. 
No matter what they kept telling her, she *did* blame herself for
not being strong enough to support him while she struggled with
the constant challenges she'd faced for those months. She had
been barely eleven years old at the time, and had been forced to
remake every one of Clow's original cards just to keep herself
and her friends safe, but the drain on her power had put Yue in
danger; had caused him to become dangerously weakened. As she'd
watched and worried and hoped for a miracle, she'd repeated to
herself over and over again those words that had torn his heart
out at the time "It's because I'm not strong enough," or "It's my
fault."

 Had Sakura continued to tell herself over and over again for
the last two centuries that it had been her fault? Did she
relive those days in her quiet moments? Her dreams? Did she
also believe that she was the cause of every long term
consequence of those days?

 He should have taken her concerns seriously back then;
should have talked to her and sympathized with her and done more
to help her see that as a young child and a new magician decades
removed from her full magical power, of course she shouldn't have
been expected to solve every problem through pure magical
strength. Instead he had chosen to downplay it; to pretend
that he knew that everything would work out just fine.

 And it hadn't.

 None of them ever spoke of it now -- Sakura and Yue because
it still hurt so much to think of the one they had lost,
Keroberus because he hoped to let them work through it in their
own way.

 Apparently, however, Sakura's way was to continue to blame
herself while secretly spending decades searching for a permanent
solution to a potentially perennial problem. As she'd said,
where Clow had failed, she was determined to succeed. Or die
trying. Yue, in the mean time, would go right on questioning her
motives, her methods, and her loyalty, because she'd never be
able to explain to him *why* it needed to be done.

 He hoped for a moment that they *would* discuss it. That he
had underestimated both of them. Time would tell. The next few
weeks or the next few centuries. He would continue to watch. 
Perhaps this time through, he would make a better decision about
the best time to intervene.

 _Yue,_ he pleaded. _Go easy on her. She's doing this for
you._

 He dared not hope, however, that Yue would do any such
thing. Deep in his heart, Keroberus knew that Yue loved Sakura
very much, but Yue had his own problems. More and more in the
last few decades, Yue had become moody, defensive, judgmental and
testy. It was a great concern to him. They had both been so
content in the beginning. Content to serve Clow. Content to
learn the lessons he presented to them, to protect him, and to
assist him in his works. Yue had valued his solitude even then,
but he had been happy in that life. 

 Clow's abandonment had hurt Yue profoundly. There had been
times after his awakening that he'd been uncertain that Yue would
ever heal emotionally. Sakura had been very good for him. A
wonderful new master. And he had fallen in love. Yue's smile had
come back. He'd fogiven Clow for all wrongs, real or imagined,
and settled happily into his new life with Sakura and her 'nii-
chan. It had seemed that all would be well with Yue after all.

 When the 'nii-chan had died, Keroberus had worried about Yue
again, but he'd seemed to handle it well. His grief was evident,
his mourning real, and then they'd all gotten on with their
lives. The Yukito persona had disappeared, but that wasn't so
unusual. Keroberus himself only used his smaller form back then
for times when stealth was required, and since they'd left Tokyo
he'd never used it at all. Not for decades. So he'd stopped
worrying about the moon guardian, and gone back to enjoying the
peaceful life that Sakura had built for them. 

 Things had been mostly quiet for a long time. No matter
what his favorite manga titles illustrated, just having great
power does not mean that dramatic and earth shattering events
will be attracted to you so that you'll have a chance to use it. 
Aside from a few isolated incidents, their existence was a quiet
one of research, gardening, and planning for the future. It was
a good life. 

 Why, then had he had the disturbing premonition lately that
something was very wrong with Yue? 

 Sakura's presence was often enough to settle Yue's
increasingly restless moods. His regard and caring for his
master were evident. This morning, however, the strange currents
had come to the surface. They were coming to the surface more
and more in the last few years. It hadn't, however, happened over
such a trivial matter before. That was a very bad symptom. One
that hinted at a very unharmonious future.

 He'd been amazed for years that Sakura and Yue got along as
well as they did. Never in all his existence had he known two
individuals with such diametrically opposite personalities. But
then, Sakura *was* something special. Even cold, unemotional Yue
obviously recognized that. They'd both seen her win over all
sorts of humans. She had a way of inspiring love and trust in
everyone she encountered, and over the years, he'd seen Yue's
grudging respect of that talent grow. 

 But had the Moon Guardian's own heart remained untouched? 

 Doubtful.

 Why, then, had he continued to question her? Wasn't it
enough that she had a curiosity about the methods of other
magicians? Why turn it into some great betrayal of a man she'd
never even met? Didn't she have a right to pursue any magical
path her intuition drew her to? Wasn't that, in fact, what Clow
Reed himself had always done?

 Keroberus decided that it was time to have a serious
discussion with his counterpart. Sakura wouldn't thank him for
interfering on her part. Especially if he happened to let slip
what he knew about her motives. He felt compelled to spare
Sakura whatever pain he could, though. Especially in this
frustrating time. Just as soon as he could leave this comfy
fire.


***


 When Yue found his master, she was wrapped warmly and
standing in the gardens. The vacant stare wasn't exactly
encouraging. He touched her shoulder gently until her eyes
focused on his. "Are you alright, master?" he asked.

 "Yue," she breathed, still off in the distance mentally.

 He frowned. "I had hoped that the two of us could talk."

 "Yue, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm not good enough. I'm
sorry that I keep disappointing you. I-"

 Yue pulled her closer taking hold of both of her shoulders
firmly. He didn't know whether to be alarmed or merely irritated
by this ongoing and uncharacteristic insecurity. She was
obviously upset, but...

 "Sakura, I wish you would tell me what it is that's
troubling you. Why all the mystery?"

 It was at that moment that her expression became totally
clear. She was completely focused on him as if sudden Buddha-
like wisdom had come down upon her. "Yue." she whispered,
enraptured, and then a beautiful smile lit her face. The smile
he had been so afraid he'd banished. He smiled in return, much
relieved. Perhaps now they could-

 "Say it again!" she said cheerfully.

 He blinked. "I ... wish you'd tell me-"

 "Not that!" she corrected. "You called me..."

 Again he blinked as he mentally backtracked. Which form of
address had he- ? _Oh dear._

 But she was looking at him with those eyes again. 
Expectantly. Hopefully. Her smile was growing a little more
persuasive with every passing moment, and he couldn't refuse her.

 "Sakura," he whispered, then closed his eyes feeling an
unaccustomed shame. Part of it was his desire to keep offering
her the appropriate respect her position demanded, but there was
something more. Something that loosened inside him. Something
that he'd kept wrapped up tight since...

 She closed the distance between them and hugged him tightly,
the joy in her heart singing in his veins. She'd hugged him
before. It had always made him a little uncomfortable, but now
it was almost painful. He wanted so much to protect her; to
comfort her, but if he let himself become too familiar with her
...

 _What should I do, To-ya?_ he asked silently. _I can't
replace you. Can't draw her out like you would if you were here. 
I don't know what role to play in her life. I just want to help,
but I don't know how._

 Perhaps it was a bad habit, invoking the memory of his dead
lover as a way of searching for guidance, but thinking of To-ya
often calmed him. At this moment the effect was immediate. He
felt instantly better, like he'd been over reacting all along. 
Of course Sakura-sama wanted a familiar relationship. Of course
she'd be more content with a casual form of address and a hug
once in a while to show joy and affection. And how long had it
been since anyone had hugged her in return? Keroberus certainly
would have if he'd had the arms to do so, but it had probably
been years since she'd been held the way she'd been used to
before her father's death.

 He may have found this sudden lack of reserve in himself
disturbing, but when he lowered his arms and placed them gently
around her, her response was immediate and heart warming. He
bent over her slightly. "Sakura," he said, the words seeming to
come from a hidden place deep within himself. "There is a way. 
There is always a way. You mustn't be discouraged."

 "Hoooo-ee?" she said, slightly puzzled, noticing that
something felt different.

 And something did feel different. Familiar and dear and
quietly powerful. With a pang, Yue recognized a magical
signature that neither of them had expected to feel again. And
the words continued. "The answer is simple, but you have to
trust yourself. You can't be afraid to try. You'll have all the
help you need, all the guidance. Be patient. Have faith."

 And that was all. They stood holding each other, Yue dazed,
Sakura confused; relieved; comforted. When he finally disengaged
himself, she smiled at him, obviously not feeling even a moment
of doubt that what he had said would prove completely true.

 "Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry that I've been such a
wreck today."

 "No, I ..." His hands came away from her and he took a step
back. "I mean, I ..." His wings fluttered a little and he
looked down. "I'm sorry I was critical. I should trust you
more. I shouldn't question your motives or your judgement." He
looked at her one last time in wonderment. The miracles that
still happened merely by the virtue of her presence never stopped
amazing him. He felt a pang of loss as the beloved presence
faded. His eyes closed and he shook his head. "Would you excuse
me?"

 He quickly turned and left without waiting for her to
respond.


***


 Sakura's brother had been a medium. Some of her earliest
memories were of walking through the neighborhood with her tiny
hand in his and wondering what it was that he kept tracking with
his eyes. 

 On one such night, she'd asked him what he was looking at. 
At first he'd refused to tell her. After walking in silence for
a while, however, he'd pointed to something off to his left. 
"There's a woman there," he'd said. "She has no feet."

 Back then every Japanese child knew what that meant. Sakura
had shivered despite the August evening heat. "A - a ghost?"

 He'd nodded. "She's following us."

 They'd walked further. "Onii-chan?"

 "What?"

 "Is ... is she still following us?"

 "Yes."

 She'd begun walking a little closer by now, squeezing his
hand a little more tightly for another half a block.

 "Onii-chan?"

 "What now?" At the best of times, he was a bit gruff with
her. Now he seemed truly annoyed.

 "Why is she following us?"

 He was silent for a moment. When he did answer, there was a
tone in his voice that she had later learned meant that he was
actively trying to upset her. "You look just like her daughter,"
he'd said. "She wants to find out where we live so that she can
come sit next to your bed and watch you sleep."

 "Hoooo-EEE!" she'd cried in terror as she'd grabbed his leg
tightly and insisted that he make her go away.

 For years afterward he'd often teased her by developing her
phobia of spirits. It had taken her decades to stop being
frightened by the mere mention of ghosts. It had been quite an
impairment to her early magical training. Over the years,
though, she'd learned how to tell when he was truly seeing
something beyond her own vision. Even years after his death, she
was still continuing to find out exactly how piercing his vision
really had been.

 His discernment had always been much better than her own. 
He had known even before she did that his friend Yukito was not
human, was growing weaker, and was in danger of fading away.

 An incredible power had been at the foundation of his
character. It was rivaled only by his compassion for those he
cared about. He was reluctant to express it, but Sakura had
always known that he loved her. Had always known herself to be
watched over and protected by him. She hadn't always liked it,
but, he hadn't always been gentle about it either.

 And between the two of them and their father, Touya had also
probably been the one with the strongest magical talent.

 Sakura wished that she had even the smallest portion of
ability as a medium. There were times when she was sure that the
spirits of the dead were all around her, but much good that did
her if she couldn't tell what they wanted or even who they were.

 Ironically, she strongly suspected that it had been her
brother's spirit that had affected Yue so; her brother's concern
that had sent her that message. She'd understood it clearly. 
"You *can* save Yue. I'll do everything I can to help you, and
so will your annoying brat of a husband, so stop whining and get
to work already. What happened to me doesn't have to happen to
anyone else," had been the gist of it. 

 Yue would be fine. She didn't know how, but Yue would be
fine. For the first time in years, Sakura began to feel a little
confidence that her greatest fear could be overcome. 

 And perhaps her doubts had been what had kept her from
knowing the answer all along. After all, it was a bit
intimidating, knowing that your one hope in life was to succeed
in the only task your great predecessor had failed in. 

 Despite his outrage at her ambition, her concern and caring
for Yue were real. A little too real on days like this one,
perhaps. She did feel a lot better now, though, and perhaps that
meant that now the knowledge she lacked would be free to come to
her in quiet moments in the days to come. She hoped so.

 She wondered for a moment how much of the strange message
Yue had understood. He too had obviously recognized Touya-onii-
chan's presence and had reacted in a very emotional way. She
felt a sympathetic pang knowing what it was like to have a memory
like that come back all in a rush. And Yue and Sakura both still
felt guilty for the loss of Kinomoto Touya's power and his
eventual illness and death.

 She'd let Yue have his privacy. When the memories crowded
around her too strong to ignore, it was always Yue who understood
and saw to it that she was not disturbed by *either* of her
guardians; always Yue that showed his love and support in the
quiet and comfortable ways that helped her feel better even more
quickly than all Keroberus' purring and pouncing and general
cheerfulness. 

 But Yue's was a gentler soul. It was that same gentleness
that had always drawn her to him ... or rather, to his soul. 
Ever since her second year in grade school, in fact.

 She could laugh at herself now. Out maneuvered in love by
her own brother. 

 But they had been so happy together.

 She smiled a little at the memory of Yukito-san's
embarrassed confession to her. "There's someone else," he'd said
when she'd finally told him of her budding young love. "Someone
I have strong feelings for."

 So she had stepped aside. It had hurt more than anything
else to that point in her life, but she loved them both so much. 
It had been so obvious whenever she saw them together after that. 
She hadn't even really needed to ask, "It's my brother, isn't
it?" but his blush, his stammer; his gentle and quiet affirmative
had all helped her to feel the loss less acutely. To feel truly
glad for the beloved rival she hadn't even known she had.

 And of course, then there had been Syaoran.

 Oh, how she had loved her Syaoran. How she missed him and
wished he were still beside her. While Yukito-san had been her
first crush, Li Syaoran had been her first ... well ...
everything else. So she had, with his help, gotten over that
first crush, and been truly content with her life and their love. 
Was still truly content with it, really.

 But lately ...

 It had felt so good when Yue had ...




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Well? What did you think, esteemed colleagues?

Next time, Kero-chan and Yue have a heart to heart (sort of), how
*not* to get your way, a visit from an old friend, oh, and lots and
lots of angst. 

Ja ne!