A girl in a ragged, cheap off-white dress staggered down the road. She was thin, dirty, and beaten up, but she radiated a long lost aura of cheerfulness and contentment. For surely, there could be no happiness in this girl's life, for her green eyes were dull, listless, with a life of drudgery omnipresent.

The orphanage that found her had named her Arihyoshi Chiaki. Both were from a list; she could not remember anything, yet she was already eleven years when she was found. Found, on this same road, wearing an absurd outfit, unable to remember anything.

Now she was fourteen, and she was back on the road.

Chiaki knew this road; she knew this town. This is Tomoeda, said the voice that she heard in her head. The ladies at the orphanage were convinced that she was crazy. They were not eager to let her go; she was a strong, agile worker who did not get into fights.

It started to rain. Chiaki shivered, as the thin dress she wore did little to warm her. She walked quicker, an unconscious part of her mind steering her in the right direction. She came upon a huge blue figure. She quickened her pace, seeking refuge in the space underneath. Clutching her pendant for comfort, she fell asleep.

A boy with unruly amber hair swung his sword, severing the dummy's head. He stopped, panting, as his sword disappeared back into its amulet state.

Li Syaoran was a boy of few words. He remained silent as his teacher, Wei-san, took away the pieces of the dummy.

His mother watched, musing silently. He had not been always like this, she could swear. She could faintly remember a young warrior, well on the path to joining emotions with training. And then…

Then there were solid memories, memories she could taste; but she still thought of them as fake, as a dream.

The auburn-haired boy walked over to his mother.

"Mother, I need to go to Japan. To Tomoeda."

"Yes, you may go."

Japan…

Tomoeda…

Places she could swear were as integrated with her son as his heart was.


"Xiao-Lang?"

"Yes, mother?"

"Watch out for your heart's star-"

"For it shall take me very far. Hai, oka-san."

A little poem, in English. Whispered to her by a young boy's voice. What is had to do with everything, she had yet to know.

AN: Unless you are as clueless as a block of wood/are like me, you should know who each of the characters whose names are not mentioned are. The why and whens will be discovered later. Preview:

Syaoran quickened his pace. His breath started to come in jagged bursts as he willed his legs to keep moving up the steep steps, to the top of the Tokyo Tower. He came to the door. Bursting through, he spotted the girl.

"Omae…"

"Hai?"

"Doushite? Doushite end your life like this?"

"Who would care? The world holds nothing for me." And with that, she jumped.

"IIE!" Syaoran grabbed the girl's hand, "Give me your other hand!"

"Doushite?" She squirmed, and he lost his grip. He watched in horror as the girl fell, in slow motion, down, a smile on her lips, her eyes closed

DA DA DA DUM…