The Confusion

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.