The Spoken Past
Sakura bit down on her lip, utter humiliation sweeping
through her. To be dragged throughout the hallways of his home, for every
single guard to poke and touch her anyway they liked. She was thankful the
guards escorting her weren't allowed to stop anywhere except for the lower
cells.
The torches flickered as she went and she looked at a few
of them before dropping her head once more. This was what it had come down to.
Years and years of searching and planning, only to die at his hands.
The guards paused before a large wooden door which was
opened for her. She felt weak, looking upon the last room she would see before
she died. Cold, stone walls. A single tiny window at the back, close to the
ceiling which only let in the moonlight through metal rods. And one flickering
torch. That was all.
She cried out as she was shoved in carelessly, and she
stumbled to her knees, hearing the door as it scraped shut and was locked
behind her. She didn't bother to look back. She knew she would see the closed
door. What did she really need to see that for?
Instead she bowed her head, arms lifting to wrap around
herself in a futile embrace. She was cold and yet she felt the strange need to
scrape together whatever dignity she had left. Cover herself from any more
prying eyes. But at the same time she had already hit rock bottom. Why should
she really care anymore?
Something shifted in front of her, close to the wall and
she looked up in time to feel a strange gust of wind. The stone wall moved
strangely, wavering like a disturbed puddle of water. And from it emerged
Syaoran, a sword in his hand, a black card in his grip. As he came forth the
wall seemed to harden once more, becoming a flat surface undisturbed.
Sakura stared at him, red hair hanging around her face,
arms wrapped around her nude frame.
"What do you want?" she asked him faintly.
He merely stared at her for a moment, the black card in
his hand floating out of his grasp and vanishing in a blink of black light. He
had a green garment strung over his shoulder carelessly, his sword hanging now
effortlessly.
Sakura bowed her head again, sighing.
After a small pause he came toward her, stopping before
her. And he held out the garment to her wordlessly.
Sakura raised her eyes to it and then followed his arm
toward his body and finally his face, lips parting. There was nothing friendly
in his expression, not in the least, with his jaw clenched and his brown eyes
narrowed. But she silently took the cloth from him, hugging it to her chest.
He turned away from her, giving her his back, flexing his
wrist and swinging the sword mutely as he wandered a few steps.
Sakura blinked at the gesture, eyes lowering to the
garment. It was a robe, a soft, green robe.
A familiar green robe.
She stared blindly at the robe, a sudden flow of memories
striking her almost painfully. Did it…did it still…
She lifted the material to her nose and mouth and inhaled
deeply. And tears rose in her eyes as she was assaulted by his familiar scent,
the smell itself an agonizingly sweet memory. She closed her eyes, the tears
slipping down her cheeks into the cloth as she exhaled weakly.
Sakura…
Syaoran.
Sakura! Iie!
Syaoran!
She had loved him. She had loved him so much, more that
day than ever before and the colors of the magic had been astounding.
Blindingly beautiful. How could such holy light have been so destructive?
The look on his face, that day. When she had thrown
herself in the way, to stop their battle. And she had accomplished what she had
wanted. Their fight had stopped instantly and all she had seen was the fizzle
and smoke of dissolving power, the defeat in his eyes as tears had risen at the
devastating conclusion. He had fallen to his knees and she had wanted to
comfort him so much then. Comfort him and hold his weeping figure in her arms
and tell him it would all work out. Because no matter what…
She would always love him.
But she had lain in her father's embrace, weak, her body
almost destroyed by their combined anger.
Her eyes came open slowly, the robe in her hands wet from
her tears and she realized he stared at her now, closed expression letting in
the slightest bit of bewilderment.
She lifted it a bit to him. "You don't wear this
anymore," she murmured.
He hesitated before speaking, frowning faintly. "I was
weak when I wore that," he replied just as softly. "I'm not weak anymore."
Sakura nodded wordlessly and finally put it on, allowing
the smooth material to fall and cling to her like a comforting blanket.
He watched her as she did so, thinking faintly that it
became her. His clothes on her, it was almost familiar…
A moment later he shook himself, anger rising inside. He
would not give in so easily. He had not spent years mastering his magic to fall
prey at the whim of a girl. He was not going to have it.
"You are weak inside," she said faintly, hands dropping
into her lap.
He came to a sudden stop, hair lifting off the back of
his neck at her words. In disbelief he tilted his head at her, hoping for a
small moment that he had heard wrong and that she hadn't just insulted him.
She didn't say anything.
"What did you just say?" he asked in a whisper.
Her lips tightened momentarily and he saw her swallow,
her lily-white throat convulsing. "You were never so weak," she said softly,
eyes on the stone floor. "You were never so weak as you are now. You were
stronger, stronger when you-"
She suddenly cried out as he lunged at her, one hand
wrapping around her neck. The sword clattered to the floor beside him as he let
it go, intent on harming her. Instinctively she shut her eyes, hands lifting to
his grip on her throat and a grimace crossed her face as he hoisted her to her
feet with one hand, flinging her against the cold stones of the wall. She hit
hard, knees buckling, but he was still there, supporting her with his hand
around her neck. Her breath came out in a whoosh, wind knocked from her and she
managed to squeeze her eyes open to look into furious brown eyes.
"If you want to die just say the word," he hissed in his
rage, jaw clenched. "Don't waste your time and, most of all, don't waste mine."
She remained wordless, lips parted as she struggled to
take one clear soothing breath. Instead she wheezed, wincing weakly.
He stared at her, eyes studying her closely. She was
pale, trembling in his grip. "Where are your insults now? How powerful do you
think you are now, with your life…" his fingers loosened the slightest bit,
settling, "in my hands?"
She gazed right back, inhaling shakily.
His anger seemed to fade, a cruel smile turning up the
corners of his lips suddenly. His eyes lowered to her neck and he unfolded a
finger, brushing it across the bruised skin. She stiffened the tiniest bit,
fearfully.
"I'm almost jealous," he said in a conversational tone.
"Jealous that you would choose a shadow over the real thing. He isn't as
powerful as I am. Nowhere near." He lifted his gaze to her face, eyes narrowing
seductively. "Had I known you wanted it so much I would not have denied you."
She seemed to study him for a moment, eyes wide. But
seeing something upon his face she achingly looked away, head leaning back to
rest against the cold wall at her spine. "You already denied me," she
whispered, inhaling hoarsely. "And you never denied me anything before."
He frowned at her, finger hovering over her throat. She
continued to stare at the ceiling, a tear falling free. He caught it upon a
fingertip, lifting his other hand to cup her face almost tenderly. "You act as
if you've known me for so long," he murmured absentmindedly. He dipped into
her, lips brushing a gentle kiss against her jaw, body moving in close to hers.
She closed her eyes, feeling she would fall if he didn't
support her.
"Of course," he continued in a sensuous tone, "I wouldn't
be surprised if you confused me, even now, with my double," he said with a
shrug. "There is a damned striking resemblance-"
She turned her face aside, away from his caress, eyes
squeezing shut.
His anger flared once more but he restrained it, instead
taking hold of her face and forcing her back to face him. Her eyes came open in
panic, wide circles. He inhaled, the corner of his mouth twisting impatiently.
But wordlessly he cupped the sides of her face, content with merely gazing at
her. She let him, swallowing fearfully, eyes focusing on his collar and staying
there.
He ran his fingers over her bangs, pushing them away from
her forehead, body pressing against hers. And she felt all of him, his robe
seemingly as thin as hers. He jammed a knee in between hers, supporting himself
fully against her but he was still caught by her hair, her skin, amber brown
eyes almost in awe.
She lifted her eyes to his chin, his mouth, parted lips
through which she saw the glint of teeth. His smooth skin covering a boyish but
gaunt face. Beautiful brown eyes and the smooth locks of auburn hair.
And in defeat she leaned forward into him, her forehead
pressing against his lips.
He stiffened against her, hands hovering around her head,
and it was no longer her supporting him but vice versa. She smelled sweet, of
flowers and herbs. Fairy-like hair brushing his chin and cheek. Her breathing
lifting her chest against his. He stared at the wall over her red hair, unsure
yet again.
But he wanted her. Of that he was sure. He wanted to hold
her more than that first day. Caress her until she screamed his name, until she
bucked in his arms and gave into him, body and soul.
Now. He wanted her now.
His hands dropped down slowly, cupping the sides of her
hips achingly. It didn't seem to phase her for she lay against him just as
weakly. He hesitated, realizing that his heart was beating frantically,
pounding so powerfully it threatened to rip from his chest. And he didn't
understand the feeling, didn't understand why this was so much more difficult
than any other woman he had had.
His fingers took hold of the robe against her hips and he
began to drag it up, ever so slowly, as if wanting to be inconspicuous.
She allowed him, tears stinging her eyes. She didn't want
to fight anymore. Didn't want him to hate her. She wanted him to remember her,
remember the days they had spent together so long ago, the days they had spent
in love with each other.
He gathered the robe to her waist, hands pushing their
way inside to cup her hips again, fingers kneading her flesh. And he pulled her
forward, dragging her up onto his leg, his knee pressing into the stone wall
between her thighs.
She went with a soft exhalation, hands lifting at last to
take hold of his arms, fingers closing around his triceps. She felt him pressed
up against her, supported from beneath by him. She felt, deep inside, that
although he despised her, he would not let her fall.
His mouth pulled away from her forehead, jaw moving to
allow her to rest her head against his collar. And it felt right. Perfect. More
so than anything he had ever had. As if she had been made to fit against him
like this, always. With her breath gentle against his collarbone, the scent of
her, stinging his nose. He bowed his head, lips pressing gently to her neck and
then further down, toward her bare shoulder for the collar of the robe was wide
on her.
She sighed once more, the purr reverberating inside his
own skin as if it had been issued from him. No matter what form, what
personality, he would always feel right against her, beside her.
And most assuredly inside her.
She felt his hands trail up her back, pulling her into
him in need. Yes, she needed him too, she understood. She would always need
him. If she could only make him realize just how much…
"I thought you would remember…" she whispered sadly, eyes
drifting closed as he settled for a moment, listening to her speak. "When you
saw me, I thought you would…"
She felt him swallow. "What?" he asked hoarsely.
And she understood then that no matter how much he looked
like him, and how many memories he awoke within her, he wasn't her Syaoran
anymore. Her Syaoran had long since died, died the same day she had. This was
someone else, a monster in the skin of her soulmate. It was all he could ever
be to her. Because the real Syaoran now awaited execution at the hands of the
beast in her embrace.
She lifted her head then, still caught in his arms. "When
is my execution?" she asked, frame limp.
He was stiff against her suddenly, and he pulled away the
slightest bit, staring almost in disbelief. She didn't meet his eyes, head
bowed and hiding under her red hair.
He seemed to realize only then what kind of position he
was in, how he held her. He inhaled, almost gasping, and backed away instantly,
releasing her.
Sakura nearly fell but his hand shot back out, clamping
onto her neck once more and thrusting her back against the wall. She crashed
back against it with a cry, wincing.
"You damn whore…" he uttered, panic-stricken. He inhaled
again, trembling and as his eyes burned into her, he seemed to grow angry once
more. "Are you so eager to meet death now that you've accomplished your task?"
He asked, trying to compose himself yet again.
She shook her head painfully, scared to move at all other
than that. "And what was my task, Syaoran-sama?" she asked quietly, hating the
name as it was applied to his monstrous face. "Perhaps you can tell me, because
I came here as a concubine. Nothing more-"
"And how well you do your job," he said instantly. "But I
feel the need to remind you that you are my concubine. No one else's."
She lowered her eyes to him, facing him at last. "What I
did, I did out of love. I loved him. I love him still," and she straightened,
jaw clenching. "I love you."
He glared at her, fingers tightening enough to cut her
air passage. "Love? Please, spare me," he spat. "What do you know about love?
Especially about loving me-"
"What do you know?" she cried back at him. "You
can't remember two years of your life, the one time you ever experienced
love! You don't remember!" And she clamped down upon shouting it, the
color draining from her face.
Oh, no…
He merely stared at her for a moment and she couldn't
tell what he radiated. No doubt anger, at her outburst. But to what extent? She
swallowed painfully under his grip, struggling to force down the lump in her
throat.
"We'll do this now," he said finally. And he released her
throat to take hold of her hair, tangling his fingers in her locks and yanking
her forward.
She went with a grimace, staggering as he pulled her
behind him. He dragged her to the door and struck the door angrily with the
side of his fist, pounding.
The door was opened by a pale guard, lips parted.
"Syaoran-sama. I didn't know-"
Syaoran shoved him aside wordlessly and waltzed out,
dragging her by the hair into the corridor and down the length of the hallway,
torches lighting their path.
"I think I'll execute you right before I execute my
double," he said almost cheerfully. "I'll have the pleasure of seeing him
mourn-"
Sakura suddenly dug her feet in, bringing him to a stop,
her hands lifting to pry at his fingers. "No! Him first," she cried, wincing
under his grip.
He stared at her, a stunned yet happy smile working its
way onto his face. "Him, first? What a miserable whore you are. And you say you
love me?" he shook his head, yanking her into him roughly. "I'm sure you told
him the same thing. I'm sure you held him in the night and whispered sweet
promises you didn't intend to keep-"
Sakura bit down on the tears rising in her eyes.
"And look at you now. How easily you would sacrifice him
for another moment in this ill-fated life you lead. I'm almost tempted to let
you live, just to see how low you would stoop," he hissed against her cheek,
breath stinging her skin.
Sakura tried to turn her face away from him, trembling.
You don't understand. You don't know what I know. You
don't know that if he sees me die again, he'll go mad. He'll die from the
sorrow. But if he goes first, I can share his burden. I will understand his
pain, even if it's only for a moment. And in our next life we'll start all
over. From a beginning we denied ourselves.
"Don't you have anything to say, my beautiful," he
caressed her cheek with his other hand, whispering intimately into her ear, "beautiful
whore?"
Sakura winced against his touch, eyes opening to look at
him. "Him first," she repeated, and she clamped her mouth shut, jaw tight.
He gazed at her almost tenderly, his hand cupping her
face. His eyes dropped to her mouth as he ran his thumb over the curves of her
lips.
"So be it," he shrugged after a moment of silence, and he
released her face, dragging her along once more.
Syaoran looked about quickly, scanning the room. He stood
in a brightly lit room, hands tied behind his back. Two guards had escorted him
in and along the far wall waited two more guards and a large man in a black
robe, an equally black hood pulled over to conceal his identity. A wicked
looking axe rested in one hand before him.
I'm about to be executed…
A small creature suddenly dove forward into him, a golden
yellow creature resembling a plush toy, floating with the help of two
wonderfully small wings.
"They were right. You are like him in every way," the
creature murmured in a childishly feminine voice.
"Keroberos," Syaoran uttered in disbelief.
The creature nodded his abnormally large head. "Hai. I've
spoken to Yue already. He told me all about you."
Syaoran smiled faintly at his words. "Unlike your master
he seemed to believe my words," he said quietly.
Keroberos didn't reply, body hovering before him.
Syaoran found himself nodding his head in understanding.
"I'm going to die, aren't I Kero?" he murmured in defeat.
The creature floated back a bit. "You have to. You
threaten the very reign of Syaoran-sama," he said softly and he hesitated,
almost saddened. "He's much too powerful. I can feel your strength level," he
shook his head. "He'll destroy you."
"I don't want his power," Syaoran argued. "I don't want
any of it. I just want Sakura. I only came here for Sakura-"
"Why?" the Guardian asked instantly. "If what you say is
true you should have your own copy of Sakura. Why come here?"
Syaoran settled weakly, giving his wrists a helpless tug.
"Because she died in my world. She wasn't strong enough to support the cards,
nor the two Guardians-"
"The Cards?" Keroberos echoed. "The Guardians? Sakura
was…" he paused again as if uncertain, "the Card Mistress?"
Syaoran nodded wordlessly.
The golden guardian turned away slowly, floating off a
bit. "Sakura was strong enough to be Card Mistress," he mused quietly. "It
never occurred to me she could play such a part. I sensed her magic but it was
below Fujitaka's level…"
"What happened that day?" Syaoran demanded, taking a step
toward Keroberos. The plush creature whirled to face him, encountering him
standing closely, face dark. "What happened since that day? Why is he
like this?"
The door to the front of the room opened and in came Yue,
floating. There was a slight frown on his beautiful face, long white hair
pooling around his shoulders and down his back. He came forth, pausing beside
Keroberos and he leaned into him. His voice, however, remained neutral.
"Have you seen Hikaru?" he asked the Guardian of the
Cards. "He wants to see her but I can't seem to find her."
Syaoran looked from the Judge to the Guardian.
"No, I haven't seen her," Kero growled coldly. "Are you
saying that, for once, she's not attached to his hip?"
Yue glanced at Syaoran.
Syaoran was, in turn, looking from one to the other,
eyebrows hiked up to his hairline. At Yue's pause he shook his head at them in
disbelief. "Look at the two of you. You don't even like him. Why are you
serving him?"
Yue practically rolled his gray eyes as Keroberos whirled
to face him.
"Who would you have us serve?" the creature asked in
sudden anger. "You? Did I mention your power level to you?"
Syaoran let the insult pass, calming himself. "I just
figured I'd bring up Kinomoto-san, seeing as how you both seemed to have had a
pretty good thing with him. Am I right?" he glared at Yue. "How did it work for
you, Yue? Always being around Touya-kun, no longer worrying about what form to
take. It would have been easy to give up Yukito." He came to a dead stop, eyes
narrowing. "Where is Touya-kun anyway?"
Yue clenched his jaw, hands fisted at his sides.
Keroberos remained silent, tail twitching tensely.
"Where is Touya?" Syaoran asked again, sounding almost
smug.
"He's dead," Yue answered in a faint hiss. His eyebrows
came down over his eyes, cold fury gleaming in the gray depths. "Touya died
right after your double became our Master."
Syaoran broke off in the middle of his arrogance, face
paling.
Touya…died?
"How?" Syaoran asked faintly, lips parted apologetically.
"How did he…die?"
Yue turned away from him and slowly walked off, wings
hanging almost sorrowfully. He stopped at the door and then waited there, head
bowed, no doubt waiting for his Master to arrive.
Keroberos floated closer to Syaoran. "Not long after
Syaoran became our new Master his memories were wiped from him. This much you
know, I trust?"
Syaoran nodded.
Keroberos nodded with him. "When he came from the battle
with…Clow, he was a different person. We knew…everyone knew, that the
way he was…" the creature shook his large head. "He wouldn't serve well as
Master of the Cards."
Syaoran studied him, fixing his eyes on the creature and
only on the creature. "This was the day Sakura…died?"
Keroberos nodded. "He brought us here, along with the
Cards, and for days he wouldn't even look at us. He used to say that our faces
reminded him too much of Sakura, and all the times he had spent with her,
fighting by her side. They used to train together, he and Sakura. Clow wanted
to pass the Cards to her but he needed her to prove her strength first."
Syaoran could almost see a picture of the two of them
together. The same picture he saw when he thought of himself and Sakura.
"And one day, his mother decided that she wouldn't bear
it. She needed him to take control because her time would be over soon and she
needed him to be the Clan Leader," Keroberos explained faintly. "So she wiped
him of his memories. All the ones containing Sakura, any piece of her. And
since that day, he has been the Clan Leader. This is what he became."
Syaoran didn't want to fill the quiet space that followed
Keroberos' explanation. He bowed his head, giving his wrists one more futile
tug and his eyes caught on Yue, the angel standing silently beside the door.
"And Touya?" he asked then.
Keroberos also looked toward Yue. "Touya-kun…was killed
by Yue," he said quietly.
Syaoran snapped his head to face the Guardian, eyes
widening. "Nani?"
The winged creature merely stared at the Judge for a
moment. "After Syaoran-sama was wiped of his memories he decided he needed to
take care of Clow, once and for all. He didn't want Clow coming to regain the
Cards for he had been led to believe that in the final battle he had won over
him. In truth the Cards were simply handed over. Clow relinquished his control
over them, instead choosing his daughter. And so Syaoran-sama decided to strike
at Clow where he knew it would hurt most."
"Touya," Syaoran nodded. "Because by this time Sakura had
never existed. Clow only had Touya and what better way to bring Clow to him
than to kill his son."
Keroberos exhaled painfully. "Yue…despises our Master,"
he said softly. He turned his head to gaze at Syaoran. "We knew that day…we understood.
We understood that the boy Sakura knew…" the creature shook his head. "He was
gone. For good. He wouldn't be coming back for us. That was the day Syaoran
ordered Yue to kill Touya. And having been made only to serve, Yue did as he
was told."
Syaoran swallowed wordlessly, eyes shifting toward Yue
once more.
"He told me, once. Only once," Keroberos said faintly,
hovering upon what seemed to be a thread of air, "the day he was sent, he found
Touya waiting for him. Touya always did have this…sixth sense…"
Syaoran didn't want to hear anymore. He knew how it ended
and he didn't want to hear it.
No more. No more, no more, no more…
"And Touya only smiled at him. Yue told me he thought it
was because he believed Yue had come back for him. To be with him. But Touya
knew the truth that day. And when Yue killed him he didn't blame Yue,"
Keroberos bowed his head sadly. "He never blamed Yue."
Syaoran turned away, now struggling with his bonds
angrily. "Damn this…" he swore, tugging painfully. He shook his head, not
wanting it to be futile, wanting at least a chance to fix something. "What
about my mother? Didn't she ever say anything about this?"
Kero shrugged absentmindedly. "She died not long after Syaoran
had established himself as Master. But she did die a miserable death. She
cursed herself and her son on her deathbed. But she blamed herself mostly for
what she had done-"
"So now you're just going to let this happen?" Syaoran
demanded furiously. "You know you're wrong, Keroberos. You know you can fix
this. Yue said it himself, my double is weakening. He may be strong now but he
won't hold off in a battle with Clow," and he eyed the small Guardian. "And you
know just as well as I do that Clow is coming for him. To finish this, once and
for all-"
"Which is why we're letting this happen," Keroberos cut
him off. "We know he's coming for us. We've been waiting for him since the day
we were taken away. You mean nothing, do you understand that? You are a
fugitive from some other world, and you should never have stepped through that
doorway."
Syaoran stared at him in disbelief.
Keroberos turned away from that accusing gaze, moving to
float away.
"Did she ever mean anything to you?" Syaoran asked, stopping
him in the middle of his retreat. And when the small Guardian turned to face
him he asked again, "Did she? Anything at all?"
"Sakura?" Keroberos questioned quietly.
Syaoran nodded wordlessly.
Keroberos hung his head, turning his back on Syaoran for a
moment. "I loved her…with all my heart," he whispered achingly. "I loved her as
if she were my own daughter. My only friend."
"Then help me," Syaoran pleaded. "Help me get her out of
here, back to my world where she will be reunited with all her friends. Make
her happy again," he begged.
Keroberos shook his head. "If I help you, I forfeit
myself. I forfeit Yue, and any chance we have to be reunited with Clow
ourselves. I won't do that to Yue. He doesn't deserve that-"
"Neither does Sakura," Syaoran stressed. "She lost once.
Don't do this to her again. You can tell him that I escaped, that you have no
idea where I am. All you have to do is lie. Turn your back now and let me go.
Let me take her away from here-"
At that moment his double entered the room, dragging
Sakura by her hair. Syaoran straightened, eyes instantly fixing on the
red-haired girl as his double shoved her roughly to the floor. Yue stayed close
to his Master's side, arms crossed over his slim chest, gray eyes blank of any
emotion.
"What is her crime?" Keroberos asked, floating forth and
hovering above Sakura as she sat up with a grimace. Her green eyes caught on
the creature and pure happiness crossed her face, lips parting to say
something.
"I need to inform you on any crime she has committed?"
his double smirked. "Since when did this come about?"
Keroberos recoiled the slightest bit, Yue remaining shut
and impassive behind him.
"Where have you been anyway, Keroberos?" his double
questioned sourly. "You come and go whenever you wish and quite frankly, I
disapprove. It's been God knows how many weeks since I've last seen you-"
"Gomen nasai," Keroberos cut him off. "I was not aware I
had been…missed," he said slowly, and he turned a bit in Syaoran's direction.
His double looked toward him and threw him a weary glare.
"Whatever the case…" he murmured and he looked toward Yue. "Hikaru?"
Yue arched an eyebrow and shrugged. "I have not been able
to find her-"
"That's all right," came a new voice, soft but firm.
Everyone whirled to face the door, a smile breaking across Sakura's face.
Kinomoto Fujitaka stood at the doorway, an unconscious
Hikaru bent over his arm, a long black staff in his other hand.
"I've got her right here," he said quietly.
