The
Confusion
Syaoran fell through, feeling as if
something had been restraining him and had finally let go. He staggered a bit
before righting himself, looking up slowly to find himself at the base of a huge
corridor. An alleyway, perhaps but that wasn't a street at the mouth. It was
more of a road, with lamplight falling across the opening.
Glancing over his shoulder he saw
the portal still hanging open and Eriol just inside, a small smile on his face.
"Eriol-"
"It's all right." He said with a
reassuring nod. "Just take a look around and come back. I'll be here waiting."
Syaoran swallowed, still looking at
him. He was having doubts now. This was entirely too different. What if he got
lost? What if things were radically off in this existence? What if he was dead
here and he came across someone who recognized him?
"Find Sakura." Eriol said quietly.
And he straightened, understanding
what Eriol meant. What was this feeling of uneasiness compared to the sorrow of
never looking in her face again? Of never hearing her jubilant laughter echo
throughout the hallways of his house, through the recesses of his mind?
What did any of it matter?
With a tightening of his jaw he
turned to face forward, adjusting his backpack. He wasn't sure why he had
brought it along. Originally he had thought to spend more time here but Eriol
always knew more and if three hours was enough for now, then three hours was
enough. For now.
He slowly walked down the alleyway, looking
ahead cautiously. Nothing was visible save for the lamplight. A shadow scurried
to his right and he looked quickly but then exhaled as it became a rat. Small
noises reached his ears, a yell far off followed by laughter. Loud but muffled
thumps.
Upon reaching the end of the
alleyway he paused and glanced out.
And the noise suddenly became loud,
an open window right beside him as he peeked out. He recoiled a bit, eyes drawn
to the light, realizing that the lamplight shining into the alleyway was this
light. This was a bar that he was looking into. He could see round tables and a
counter where the bartender was serving up drinks. Laughter rang out from a
raucous bunch as they were served drinks. Drinking contests were going on in
the tables in the back and as he looked closer he saw swaying figures making
rounds, women giggling and flaunting what they had to eager customers.
Wasn't that illegal? This was
straight out prostitution, he thought to himself, watching a woman beckon to a
man and first take the dollars in his hand before grabbing his hand and leading
him toward the back of the bar.
"No money?" someone asked him,
sounding close to his side.
He jumped and whirled, straightening
to look into the face of an old drunk, the liquor stale upon his breath. Syaoran
grimaced, backing away a step and he shook his head. "No." he replied. "Too
young to get in."
The drunk stopped staggering and
eyed him. "Too young to get in?" he echoed and he motioned.
Syaoran glanced over his shoulder
and stared as a pair of boys, no more than thirteen years of age, raced up and
shoved their way in, waving bills in their hands at the nearest woman. She
turned to them, swiftly taking the money and counting it before nodding in
appreciation and taking both boys, one in each hand, and heading towards the
back.
The drunk patted him on the back
before swaggering over and pushing in also. A loud group inside cheered as he
entered, beckoning for him to join them and he did so, practically dropping
dead in a chair they cleared for him.
What kind of place was this?
Syaoran hunched his shoulders and
quickly passed by the window, bowing his head against the light. The streets
were deserted and as he slowed to take everything in he frowned at the
pavement. It wasn't pavement. It was cobblestone. He slowed further, glancing
around before stopping altogether and inspecting the stones. He even passed his
hand over the stones, fingers coming away dirty. Further down the street there
were more lamps burning but no streetlights, no artificial lights at all. He
looked about, lips parting, a frown crossing his forehead.
How was he supposed to find Sakura
when this place didn't seem familiar at all?
And then, as if his prayer was being
answered, his eyes caught sight of an old, dilapidated store that he found only
too familiar. In fact, if he looked closer he was almost positive he was a
block away from the old elementary school he had been enrolled in with Sakura
when they had been rivals for the Clow Cards. Which meant Sakura lived…
He rose quickly, knowing where he
was going and knowing it wouldn't take him anymore than ten minutes to get
there if he ran.
"Syaoran-sama!"
He whirled as the husky voice of his
advisor reached his ears, long robes swirling about his tall, slender frame.
The woman caught up, hesitating
before him, a worried frown on her face. "Daijoubu, Syaoran-sama?" she asked,
looking up at him with long, cat-like eyes. "You raced out of there as if you
had the devil-"
"I feel him." He cut her off, eyes
narrowed in cold fury. "Clow. I feel him as if he breathed down my neck."
"Clow?" she asked, face paling. And
then, to soothe him, "You're imagining things, my Lord. Clow can't get within
yards of you without your wards trapping him. Please, Syaoran-sama, come back-"
He suddenly reached out, fingers
wrapping around her neck and he thrust her against the wall, holding her there
as she gasped. The anger had not left his face and as she looked at him she saw
it vanish into icy animosity. She swallowed, grimacing as he tightened his grip
on her and she slowly composed herself, jaw clenching.
"Don't fight me when I tell you
something, Hikaru." He growled at her, coming close enough to inhale her scent.
A powerful, potent perfume and the scent of fear, clinging to her form. His
eyes darkened as he brought his face close to her ear. "I sense him. In the
hallways. In the rooms. In this very corridor."
The advisor nodded in acceptance,
eyes shifting down and away from his stony face. It was better not to provoke
him when he became angry. Swallowing once more she slowly lifted her arms, one
hand wrapping around his hand that trapped her to the wall, the other coming to
rest against his chest. "Gomen nasai, Syaoran-sama. I was wrong to ignore the
severity of the situation. It won't happen again."
He stared at her, eyes glittering in
the light of the torches lining the walls of the corridor. "Make sure it
doesn't." he whispered through clenched teeth, breath warm against her neck.
And very slowly, with the touch of a lover, he brushed his lips to that tender
spot behind her ear, nuzzling her skin.
The advisor let her eyes slide shut,
lips parting.
But a moment later he pulled away, a
knowing and cruel smile quirking the corners of his lips. He released her,
fingers trailing away from her neck and he turned away, floating down the
corridor, robes floating.
Hikaru stared after him, breath
rapid as she pulled away from the wall. And a small smile lifted her lips as
well as she strode off in the opposite direction.
He paused outside his room,
hesitating for some strange reason. He felt him still, his presence, but now
that he focused intensely on it, he realized it was indeed his presence but
somehow split. He didn't know how else to describe it. He inhaled deeply,
frowning to himself.
If Clow wanted another battle, he
would have it. He was not going to get control of the Cards again, no matter
what army backed him and what tricks he had up his sleeve.
He threw his door open, stepping in
and came to a dead stop when he saw the feminine figure silhouetted against the
moon shining outside his window. For a moment he stared, trying to make out her
face but as she turned to be revealed by the moonlight he realized that he
didn't recognize her. A new face, fairly attractive, with a beautiful figure
clothed in nothing but a sheer wrap.
"Are you the flavor of the day?" he
asked sardonically, shutting the door behind himself.
"Hai." Came the soft response and
then she was floating forth, shedding the wrap to stand nude before him.
He let his eyes travel over her for
a good few moments, taking in every curve and every shadow. After he had his
fill he nodded, almost impatiently. "You'll do."
Without another word the woman
wrapped her arms around his shoulders, allowing him to have his way with her.
Syaoran glanced around, slowing to a
stop. Was this still the right way? He couldn't be sure, what with the houses
and shops falling apart, and the streets tripping him in their deterioration.
More lamps lit the street, the fire encased in the glass, smoking out through
the top. He grimaced, shaking his head at himself. He wasn't sure anymore.
A hand suddenly wrapped around his
mouth, an arm winding around his waist, and he began to fight, kicking out as
he was dragged backwards. A horrid smell assaulted his nose, coming from the
person holding him, and he felt more hands digging into his pockets, pulling
out whatever money he had.
Angrily, Syaoran rammed an elbow
backward, catching his attacker in the ribs. A muffled, "Oomph!" broke from the
man, grip loosening, and Syaoran shoved away, whirling in a ready stance. A
shadow scurried close to his left, moving to escape, and Syaoran lifted a hand,
a thin slip of paper ready.
He wasn't going to let them get away
that easily. And he wasn't going to need
his sword for this. Murmuring a quick spell he held the paper up and from its
surface lightning broke out, streaking out and striking the ground directly
before the escaping shadow. The man shrieked in horror, automatically flinging
himself away from the sparking scorch mark and back toward Syaoran.
Syaoran took hold of him, yanking
him up and glaring him dead in the face. "Do it again and I do some serious
damage." He growled quietly. And his eyes slid toward his accomplice, the same
threat thrown in his direction.
But then the man in his grip began
to wail, eyes widening. "Syaoran-sama! No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't know
it was you! We didn't know-"
Syaoran stared at him as he rambled
on with his apologies, begging forgiveness.
"Here! Here's the money! Take it
back! Take it back!"
Syaoran shook his head, lips
parting. "Wait. Wait. How do you know my name? How do you know…why are you
calling me that? Stop for a second!" he shook the man impatiently and then
tightened his grip on the man's collar. "Stop and tell me how you know my name!"
The man dissolved into tears,
wailing and sobbing, mumbling more apologies and begging for his life.
And Syaoran still had him by the
collar when figures rounded the corner of the block, dressed in a uniform of
sorts.
"Syaoran-sama! It is you!"
one of the figures said in surprise as the others swarmed around the offending
attackers. "We heard the commotion but we didn't expect to actually find you
here! Are you all right? What are you doing outside the Square?"
Syaoran allowed one of the newcomers
to take hold of his attacker, flinging him away as if he were an insect. "You
disgraceful piece of slime! How dare you attack My Lord?" And at his
words Syaoran's eyes grew large, lips parting in disbelief.
"What-"
"Take him!" The man who had
initially spoken to Syaoran commanded. And his fellow guards took hold of one
of the attackers, the rest racing after the second attacker as he went to
escape.
Syaoran merely watched it happen,
struck dumb by what was happening. The guards scuffled with his attackers and
he saw then, realized that he had almost been robbed by two homeless derelicts,
their clothes stained and torn. The first guard stood at his side protectively,
barking out orders to bring the bums in and all Syaoran could do was feel
somehow sorry.
"Come, Syaoran-sama. We will take
you home." The guard at his side said at last, once the derelicts had been
taken away. And gesturing for him to follow the guard began to lead the way.
Syaoran reluctantly followed,
looking over his shoulder in the direction he was sure Sakura's house lay.
