Chapter 2-Yue
That is not my son.
Those were the first thoughts in my mind. That is not my son. And yet he is. Who could deny reality? It was not the first time I did it, but reality never gave in. How many times have I said to myself Clow-sama is not dead, he's here, he's here, he's just gone, and yet...
Clow is gone. And he isn't just gone. He's gone forever. Never to return.
But one cannot expect me to accept this news. And Syaoran was not the most likeable boy.
The child was starting to cry, and I feel like kicking him. The sharing of blood and flesh did not enhance our love for each other. But Yelan had been kind to me before.
Eleven years ago I awoke from the Clow Book. And somehow, I can't remember how, I ended up in Hong Kong. I had no knowledge of anything modern, was not familiar with cars or television. Thankfully, Li Yelan had found me and taken me in, patiently teaching me all that I needed to know, so I could come to Japan and wait for the Card Master.
For that I'm grateful. But Li Syaoran-he was an unexpected thing. When I first heard of him I knew something was wrong-Yelan did not have a son the time when I was there. I have never met her husband. Her husband was probably dead; we never talked about it. But now that I thought of it I remember she did feel her stomache a lot, and throws up in the morning, signs of pregnancy.
But that does not make me feel any affection for the sobbing child.
" Xiao lang, listen to me! I don't know how it happened, I just got pregnant, and
than you were born." Yelan was desperately trying to comfort her son. " I had a
feeling it might be Yue, but I only assumed! I didn't know!" She was speaking in
Cantonese, which I understood, since I lived here for some time.
" So I'm an accident then?" Syaoran was not helping his mother. He wore a look of
complete bewilderment and anguish. " Well, why did you keep me then?"
Yelan shrunk back as if slapped. I thought it was the most ridiculous question
in the whole history of relationships between mother and son. Syaoran obviously
was not thinking.
" Xiao lang..." Yelan trembled. " I love you Xiao lang. You were so beautiful when
you were born, so perfect..."
" Perfect?" Syaoran laughed. " You call this perfect?" He took a knife, and to the
horror of us all, stabbed his left arm. Blood oozed out.
Blood should be red.
Dark dark red, rose red, blood red, so it can be turned to purple or black when too much color is filled.
Blood is red.
But his, the child, the child's blood, it's too light to be red.
It's pink.
That's not blood. That's...
" You call this perfect?" Syaoran laughed like a lunatic. " I'm a freak! And I wonder,
where did I get this color from? That moon devil over there?" He glared at me. "
Or is it just by chance, an accident?"
Sakura moved to speak. Touya held her back.
" Why didn't you tell me, Mommy?" Syaoran asked, this time quiet, his arm
dropping to his side, blood still flowing. His voice was barely above a whisper. He
saw no one but me and his mother. " Why didn't you? Why didn't you tell me who
Daddy is? It wouldn't have been so bad. I wouldn't go looking for the cards like
that. I would have stayed right here, just as you told me. Have I been a bad boy?
Did I do something that you don't like? Don't you trust me, Mommy?" He went
over to his mother and fell on his knees before her. " Why did you lie to me? I
thought I had a chance. Maybe I could..." He fell silent, dropping his head, but when
Yelan reached forward he sprang back on his feet several feet away from her.
" Wang ba dan." He cursed in Manderin, at me, and with a glare at his mother he
sprang off out of the mansion.
Things suddenly seemed to be hanging from a cliff by a thread. I didn't dare
move, because I thought if I did we would fall down into the bottomless pit. It was
Sakura who saved us.
" What was the blood thing all about?" She demanded. She felt she had the right to
know what's wrong with her friend.
Fuutie happened to be the innocent one in this situation, and since her mother
couldn't she explained to us.
" Syaoran was carrying a desease that doctors couldn't identify. Nothing was
actually wrong with his system. His magic was the problem. Yue's and Mama's
magic are fighting each other to gain control. It is destroying him. Which was why
Syaoran was blaming Yue." She looked at me apologetically.
Her words seemed to wake me from some deep trance. I stared at her.
" Immortal and mortal blood!" I cried. " So he's-he's..."
" Hai." She said, using Japanese as I was.
" Why did you let him go to Tomoeda?" I asked, completely bewildered. " This is
complete ludicrous!"
" He wanted to go." Fuutie said softly. " He wanted to go. We've been confining for
some years of his memory. When he turned five or so, he told us he wanted to
prove that he could live a normal life and not a life that is weak and feeble and
meaningless. Our mother and us sisters talked with him for a long time before we let
him go do martial arts training. We weren't surprised when he didn't pass the Final
Judgement-he wasn't very quick. But Mama knew that it was a blow to his high
hopes and let him stay in Japan for a while, since Eriol came and all, and wanted to
give him another chance-not a risky one, but enough so that he would feel better.
He was always emotional-and that worsens the desease."
Emotional. Who could have known, the ' gaki' was emotional. But he loved
Sakura, and love is an emotion. And then the word ' worsen' kicked in. He kept
himself cold so the emotions won't worsen the desease, his sickness.
" I'll go get him." Touya offered, and Fuutie nodded. Yelan did not raise her head.
When Touya went out, Kero popped out, having heard and seen the whole
thing from behind Sakura.
" Hey, Yue, daijoubu?"
For a moment I couldn't answer him. I was still pondering on Fuutie's words.
" Why not you rest for a bit, alright?" Sakura offered. " This is a big thing to
swallow for all of us who have not heard it." She waited, expecting me to turn into
Yukito.
But I can't. I'm not at peace. I was restless. I can't.
And then cold realization came in. A different turn went in my heart, and my mind seemed to open.
I have a son! I have a son! My own son, my own child. My own little one who I can hug and inspire, who I can call ' sonny,' and who could call me ' Daddy' in Cantonese, or maybe ' otou-san' if he wished. I am a father! I have a son who I can protect, tease, teach, and love. I have a child to love and care for.
I have a child. And he hates me.
