The Pain of Betrayal

The Pain of Betrayal

Syaoran looked up as the door opened slowly. He leaned out from the curtains of the bed cautiously, frame stiffening. They had found him. They had come for him, to kill him for sure this time around.

He exhaled thankfully as Sakura's figure scampered in, the door closing quickly behind her. Silently, he rose from the bed to walk toward her. And he stopped in mid step, lips parting guardedly as she hunched forward against the door, shoulders trembling. He took another step uncertainly, ears pricking up when he heard a muffled sob.

"Sakura?" he asked softly, coming up behind her.

She turned with a stifled shriek, hand clasped over her mouth. And tears fell from her eyes, her cheeks pale.

"What?" he asked her faintly. And as her expression faltered once more, "What?" he asked in a stronger tone.

She shook her head at him silently and lifted both hands to her face, almost as if to hide behind them. She slumped against the door and slowly slid down to the floor, resting on her rear.

Syaoran stared down at her, heart pounding. He was going to kill him. Whatever had happened, whatever he had done, his twin was going to die by his hand. "What happened?" he asked her, cautiously going down on one knee.

Sakura merely wept, hands covering her face.

Warily, Syaoran sat and slid forward, coming close to her. Her long fingers were stiff against her face, clawed almost into talons, and he caught glimpses of her face in between them. Never had he seen Sakura cry like that. Not since…since…

Since they had transformed the Void Card. And she had thought him gone.

He slowly lifted his hands, grasping her wrists and pulling them from her face. She ducked her head as he did so, hiding her face behind her hair but he set her hands aside, reaching out and smoothing her locks back, feeling her tear tracks under his palms.

"What happened?" he asked her tenderly, not wanting to hear at all. He didn't want to know why she cried. He felt that whatever she said, he was only going to end up wanting to kill his double all the more.

She lifted her eyes, inhaling to steady her breath, and gazed at him with shimmering eyes. "I'm to be executed at sunset," she whispered, and she closed her eyes, ready to cry all over again.

Syaoran stared at her, a lump in his throat. Over his damned and dead body. He smiled at her after a moment, smoothing back wispy bangs and he leaned forward, lifting his lips to her forehead.

"No, you're not," he reassured her, turning his head to lean his jaw against her brow. "We're leaving. You and me. Together. We're getting out of here and you're coming back with me to my world."

Sakura was in mid-exhalation at his words when she stiffened. "Your world?" she asked faintly. And as he pulled back she was staring at him as if he were insane.

He nodded. "I'm not from around here," he murmured, and he lowered his eyes to a lock of hair stuck to her tear tracks. Gently, he pulled it away, lips tightening. "A friend of mine opened the way here with his magic. We were curious to see what was on the other side. Or he was, rather. I came here to look for you."

"Me?" she asked him quietly.

He nodded, eyes still caught on her cheek. His thumb brushed across the smoothness, feeling its softness.

"In my world, you died. About three months ago. You were Mistress of the Clow Cards, you revived them under your name. And you didn't have the strength to support the Cards and Yue, so you died."

She was staring at him, eyes wide. And he wasn't sure if she believed him but she seemed terribly amazed by his words. "I was Mistress of the Cards?"

He nodded. And he laughed faintly, a small grin breaking across his face. "When I first met you, I couldn't stand you. I hated that someone as weak in magic as you and as timid as you, could be the Cardcaptor," he caressed her jaw, watching himself as he did it. "But then I loved you. I couldn't help myself. You cared so much for others, cared so much for the Cards. And in the end you proved stronger anyway. You were the proper choice. And I resolved to be your guardian. To help you grow, in magic."

She gazed at him as he spoke, eyes sweeping his face tenderly.

"Did I die in your arms?" she asked softly, and she was slowly reaching a hand up to his face, cupping his cheek.

His eyes lifted to hers and he blinked painfully, leaning his cheek into her hand. "Yes," he answered quietly. "You died in my arms, at sunset, as the red streaks were swallowed by night."

Sakura's face nearly fell into tears once more as he whispered it, as he bowed his head.

"I felt it when you died. In my heart, I felt you leave. And it felt…as if you were taking a part of me with you. As if I could never be whole again," he uttered, hair falling into his closed eyes.

Sakura leaned forward, away from the door, closer to him. "You came for me. Because you loved me?"

He nodded wordlessly.

She exhaled, not knowing what to say. She felt hopeless, terrible even. At least here, Syaoran was alive. Even if they weren't together, and even if he was the person he was, he was alive. But this boy before her.

He had no one.

She slid forward, into him, and lifted her other hand, leaning her chin against his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his neck. He exhaled against her, head resting against hers as he wound his arms around her waist. And somehow, it hurt. It hurt to inhale her scent, hurt to feel her in his arms and be reminded of what had been lost.

But she was Sakura. It was her slender frame underneath his hands, her body he felt against his.

"When I was younger, I fell in love with a boy," she whispered against his ear. "He had brown eyes. Light brown eyes. And he had dark hair that always fell into his face. No matter how many times he swept it out of his face it always fell back."

Syaoran smiled faintly, inhaling wearily.

"And this boy, he was magical. Both literally and figuratively. He was a magic user, but when I would look at him, it was like he was this purely beautiful creature. Like he was much too beautiful to really exist. I was drawn to him, drawn to his silence. Drawn to his protectiveness. I wanted to make him smile. Just once."

She hesitated, gazing out her window across the room to the moon beaming outside.

"One day I realized we were both after the same thing. He wanted something that I could get but he never asked me for it. Because he loved me, too. We had both fallen for each other in his quest."

Syaoran could see himself loving her. Wanting to be wherever she was, wanting to bask in her sunshine.

"But he and my father had never gotten along. So, instead of asking me, he went ahead and faced off against my father. And I got caught in the crossfire," she murmured.

Syaoran's embrace tightened. "The Clow Cards?" he asked.

She sighed. "They were in the middle of battle. The magic was stunning. The colors, the static in the air. The buzz. It was amazing. But they were hurting each other. And I was so scared. I was scared because I kept feeling that, no matter how the battle ended, I was going to lose someone. So I threw myself in the way, thinking if it was me to get hurt I wouldn't lose anyone. I wouldn't feel any kind of pain at losing someone."

Syaoran lifted his hand, trailing his fingertips down the bare skin of her back gently.

Sakura exhaled against him, head dropping to rest against his neck. "Otou-san ended up giving Syaoran the Cards. He just…gave them to him. To stop the battle. And then he took me home, where he nursed me back to health. I couldn't walk for half a year and the first four months I was in and out of consciousness. Without the Cards it was harder for otou-san to heal me, but he did. And it wasn't until later that I heard that Syaoran had become head of the Clan. That everyone, everywhere, knew his name. Knew him for the merciless leader that he was."

Syaoran nodded to himself in agreement.

"He doesn't remember me," she whispered. "He sees me and it's almost as if he sees through me. He doesn't recognize me. But he feels something, I know he does. Maybe someone erased his memories, repressed them. But they're breaking through, to the point that it's driving him mad."

Syaoran swallowed, tracing small circles along the smooth skin of her back. "I think he went mad a long time ago," he murmured blankly, understanding. Understanding that without her he himself would also go insane. He couldn't live without her. This wasn't living, what he did. It was surviving, as if he went through an ordeal at night to wake up and cope all day just to go through it all at night again. He blinked wearily, feeling drained. "I think he died that day. And this other person took over his face. Became him."

Sakura didn't reply to that. Instead she breathed against him, staring at the moon hazily.

"You're what he would be now, had he never gotten his hands on the Cards," she said faintly, slumping against him in defeat. "You're the boy I fell in love with, so long ago."

Syaoran paused in the middle of tracing a tiny design on her back.

She shifted a bit, lifting her head and looking at him, green eyes mournful. And he gazed at her, turning his head to meet her eyes.

"I missed you," she murmured. And she lifted her hand to his cheek once more, drawing him close.

He went wordlessly, heart suddenly pounding.

Her lips met his, tenderly, almost as if afraid anything stronger would have crushed them both. She cradled him against her, breath warm against his cheek, frame trembling faintly.

We've both lost so much. We've both been treated unfairly. We deserve this, to make up for everything that has been taken from us…

"He won't even kiss me," she uttered sadly and he kissed her breathlessly, wanting to atone for everything his double had ever put her through, had ever kept from her. He inhaled deeply, the taste of her making him dizzy.

She returned his kiss, hand lifting to tangle in his hair, holding him close. He felt real in her embrace, felt the way she had always thought he would feel. Slim, gentle.

And desperately in love with her.

She rose onto her knees, bending over him, and he lifted his head, gazing up at her with such tenderness it made her love him all the more. He closed his eyes as she lifted a hand and pushed away a stubborn lock of hair, fingertips playing across his mouth.

A swell of emotion rose inside her, so strong it almost brought tears to her eyes once more. How cruel Fate could be. How tragically dramatic, to take him away and then return him.

And what a kindness, to be able to be with him and never have to remember all that had happened in her own life, in her own past. To be able to wake up beside him and have him love her for the rest of her life, to brighten when he laid eyes on her, to hear him say her name, whisper it when he held her. And to hear his laughter, one sweet, genuine laugh.

"You'll take me with you? When you go?" she asked him, almost pleading. "You won't ever leave me again?"

His expression became firm, hands releasing her to grasp her face. "Never. I'll never leave you," he swore to her, eyes shining. "And I'm never going to let you go away again from me."

She gazed at him, a tear slipping down her face. And wordlessly, she rose, pulling away from his hands and standing up. He lifted his head, a slight frown crossing his face. When she extended a hand to him he took it, rising to his feet as well. He stood over her, feeling how small she was as she swept passed him, pulling him toward the bed.

He caught sight of it and had half a mind to dig his feet in like a puppy and refuse.

She turned to him as she came to a stop, head bowing towards his chest. His eyes strayed to the bed, lips parting questioningly.

"Sakura?"

She lifted her head after a moment, silently brushing her lips against his. He accepted her kiss, hair sticking up on the back of his neck. He didn't know what was about to happen and it scared him, to be caught unaware.

She broke the kiss, falling back to gaze at him solemnly. He gazed at her as well, hand lifting to her face.

"I told her I would wait," he said softly. "That I would wait until she was ready. Until we were both ready."

She nodded to him, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips. And he felt that she understood, that she knew that in the end, his Sakura had never been ready. Had never been given the chance to be ready.

No doubt this Sakura was ready. It shamed him to think of it in that sense. This was what she did. It almost belittled it.

"I'm scared, too," she said quietly, bringing him out of his thoughts. And as he looked at her, the smile on her face widened a little. "You look absolutely horrified. And I can't help but feel that I'm the one frightening you."

He shook his head at that, hands reaching down to clasp hers. "Not you," he said, squeezing her fingers. "The situation. The memories that I keep getting." He hesitated, voice breaking off gently as he looked down to see their fingers intertwined at their sides. "I remember being with her, one night. And things had started to move…very quickly. She was scared, I was scared. But we both wanted to. And that was the night we promised. We promised we'd wait until we were older, until we were ready."

Sakura was smiling at him gently, as if she approved. She lifted a hand to his face and he wasn't sure if he imagined it but this Sakura seemed so much older than his had been. Infinitely wiser. He lifted his eyes to her, studying her features intensely.

"You're not ready yet," she murmured. "Especially not when I'm here. I feel your confusion at seeing me. Looking at my face…hurts you…"

"No. No…" he said soothingly. "It isn't like that at all. No matter what Sakura you are, what world you live in, you could never hurt me. I would love you just as much." And he paused, eyes skimming her face, her red hair. "Just as you love him."

She started at his words, eyes widening.

"I understand, what you mean," he pressed on. "About my loving Sakura. My Sakura. Because you love your Syaoran. Even though he's the way he is now, you still see him as the way he was. And you can't see him like that anymore. He doesn't exist like that anymore."

"Neither does Sakura. Your Sakura," she responded quickly, cutting him off. "Your Sakura doesn't exist anymore. There's only me now."

Syaoran stared at her, wondering how she meant that. If it angered her to hear him speak about her Syaoran. He nodded faintly, gazing at her. "You're right, of course," he said. "She doesn't exist like that anymore." And he released her, looking away and slumping onto the bed weakly.

She looked at him, shoulders hanging in defeat. "Syaoran. I didn't mean-"

He smiled faintly, forgiveness on his face even as she spoke. "But you're right," he said, falling backward onto the bed. It felt soft under his weight, supporting his weary figure. He sighed, looking up at the canopy overhead, arms lifting to cross under his head. "I thought I'd get used to her being gone, that eventually it would stop hurting." He stared at the canopy, gaze becoming flat. "It doesn't stop hurting. And it doesn't go away."

Sakura merely gazed at him for a moment, arms wrapped around herself. After a reflective moment she seated herself beside him, the bed hardly upset by her weight. He looked over at her, not turning his head. Her profile was striking. Wonderfully soft skin and glossy auburn hair. He felt the glance turn into a stare, unashamed at being caught looking at her when she turned her head to face him.

"Do I look like her?" she asked him with a small smile, hands clasped in her lap.

He smiled back faintly, pretending to study her. "Yeah, sort of," he joked. His eyes widened a little bit as she lay out beside him, her green eyes mischievous.

"Well, you look very much like my Syaoran. Except for this little scar right here." She lifted a hand, her finger brushing it gently. "How did you get that?"

He shook his head, turning his face away but she nudged him, wanting his reply.

"Tell me. I want to know how you got it," she pleaded, still touching it, her finger rubbing across it over and over.

With a sigh he said, "I was teaching Sakura a few moves. How to defend herself against unwanted attention." He stressed the end of the sentence, a look of protectiveness coming into his eyes. "I let my guard down after pushing her to hit me. She was so timid. She was afraid of hitting me. And the one time I softened she let me have it, right there."

Sakura laughed silently, her other hand clamping over her mouth.

Syaoran nodded wryly. "Yeah, it was funny then, too," he mocked her. "But she didn't touch me for like a month."

She stared at him, smiling behind her hand. "Not even to kiss you?" she asked quietly, finally pulling her hand back from her mouth.

He paused, blinking as he thought the moment over. "At the time," he said slowly, and he met her eyes, "we weren't together. We knew about each other's feelings, we understood them, but it was as if we agreed without ever saying anything, that we were too young to have a relationship." He smiled again, the faint twist of his lips. "Although it didn't really occur to me that if other guys started looking at her, maybe it was the right time to start dating."

She nodded, finger still playing across the scar. "Such an innocent, Syaoran," she murmured softly, her breath warm against his ear.

He studied her, eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

Unlike you…

At the mere thought he felt a sudden wave of shame wash over him and he turned his head away once more, returning his gaze back to the canopy.

I can't be with you like this…

She shifted a bit and a moment later he felt her lips brush his scar, as gentle as a wind blowing across his skin. He swallowed, eyes closing as she murmured, "Something told me she never kissed you there. As if she were afraid of that scar, ashamed that she had caused that scar and that it was a constant reminder to her."

He didn't reply although he agreed. Never had she touched his scar because of exactly that. She had been ashamed and remorseful, no matter how many times he had told her it hadn't been her fault. Up until her death she had never allowed herself to touch it.

He wanted her to kiss him again.

She inhaled deeply, almost as if he had defeated her. "You won't…be with me tonight?" she asked him faintly, pulling her hand away from his scar to draw in on herself.

He hesitated, mind working furiously behind his closed eyelids. It would be wrong…wouldn't it? It had seemed wrong before but now that he lay beside her, now that he was so close to her, it didn't seem wrong at all. It felt exactly as it should have felt, had they decided to take that step together.

She shifted on the bed, pulling away but he reached out blindly, taking hold of her hand. His eyes came open and he looked at her at last, trying to read passed the surprise on her face. "Would it mean something to you? The way it would mean to me?" he asked her quietly.

Because it would be the step he had never taken with his own Sakura.

She gazed at him, squeezing his fingers tightly, so much that it felt as if she were cutting off his circulation. "Nothing would ever mean more to me, Syaoran," she whispered. And she watched him, unafraid, as he slowly rose, their eyes focused on each other.

There was no lie there, in her eyes. A part of him had wanted to find a deception there, had wanted it desperately. And the other half of him was relieved that she would want to go there with him.

"You know you'll always have me. Don't you?" he asked her, drawing closer to her. He lifted his other hand, cupping her cheek, thumb brushing her skin.

She shook her head at him, tilting into his hand. "And if this is our only night together?"

"It's not. It won't be," he said firmly. "I won't let it be-"

"But if it is?" she cut him off gently. "If tomorrow comes and we can't escape together? If I'm executed tomorrow?" She gazed at him. "I won't have always."

He stared at her, brow furrowing sadly. And he knew then, felt a small release inside. This would always be right between them.

Because nothing they ever did could ever be wrong.

She went into his arms, pressing her cheek against his jaw and embracing him. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, hand lifting to hold her head against his collar.

"One night, Syaoran," she murmured into his ear. "One night and then we'll have all of eternity."

He swallowed, breathing her scent into himself. Forget the one night. He wanted the eternity.

I tried to make changes to the way I wrote this because I got a review with an English lesson in it. =) Now THAT'S what I call criticism. I don't have the reviewer's name because I'm offline but whoever you were, thanks! I learned something new! ;) Hopefully I got everything right this time around?

Arigato!

- Cass