The Disease that Killed Love

Chapter 27-Syaoran

Somehow, he convinced me. Or perhaps he gave me strength. Or perhaps it was Sakura, who had done it. Even now, I can't remember clearly, everything was fuzzy, clouded, blurred. But I know that somehow I gained courage.

Father looked panicked when he came to my room that night. He was very quiet, but he was tense, as if it took all of his strength to hold back. He asked if I was alright. I nodded, not caring much, dimly wondering why he was so scared.

I was thinking about Sakura. I remember there was a time when I couldn't stop thinking about her, but in those days, she comes and goes at my will. I love her, but there were so many obstacles. Love is a very powerful thing, but other forces, when combined, can master it. So I didn't think about her as much as I use to.

I was thinking about her because it made me feel good. It was so pleasant, remembering her eyes, her face, her soft hair, as short as it were, and her laugh, her giggle, her occasional ' hanyaann...' and ' hoe!'. I was thinking about her powers, her destiny, fulfilled. What would it be like, knowing what you'll become? And yet she doesn't really know. The cards, after all, wouldn't earn her any bachelor degree or masters degree, but at least it might give her life some meaning, and some eventfulness. And I remember thinking about the night of the judgement. It was probably the most pathetic in all of history, simply because Sakura was going to win that one anyway. I was thinking about her during the nights under the stars. Somehow, I had felt the need for love when my decision was made.

And then Father came. He sat down by my bed and took my hands in his, his eyes staring into mine. I looked back, but I couldn't stand his stare so I looked down again.

" Syaoran," He had began. " There are many who care about you."
I didn't answer. I was too tired.
" Even if it doesn't seem so."

Oh gee, I had thought. I didn't know that.
" You are young. You have a long way ahead of you. You have to take courage. You can't just give up like this..."
I wasn't really willing to listen to that, but Father suddenly continued on,
" Clow Reed was a kind man, a wonderful sorceror. He had enough magic to create immortals, and so of course he had enough to make himself immortal. Fate dealt him a deadly blow. He was not the only sorceror in the world, and many envied his knowledge and wisdom. One day, a sorceror challenged him, and he threw a mighty blast. Clow was wounded. He didn't want to fight, but he never had a chance to defend himself.'
For a long time Clow lingered with the mortal wound in his head. That wound would have costed anything, his sight, his hearing, his mobility. Kero, Nakuru, Spinel and I had taken care of him the best we could, being his guardians and his children. The wound took a long time to heal, and Clow Reed used all of his strength to stay with us.
Do you know how heartbreaking it was when he finally died, Syaoran? We tried our best, did all we could, only to lose him simply because he himself was no longer strong. He called to me and told me he saw what you had seen, Syaoran. The gate to the world of the dead, where all is empty, all is nothing, filled with a vast void of darkness, yet it is not darkness, because darkness is something. And then Clow Reed told me that when he came to this world, he felt the burden of life. He felt it so heavy that he couldn't move. And I realized that he was paralyzed. The wound had destroyed the part of his brain which controls movement. '
He took my hand, and told me that he was too tired, just like you are, Syaoran. That he was too tired, too exhausted to stay. Life is beautiful, he told me, but death has its beauties also. And then with a sigh he left.'
We felt that he betrayed us, we guardians. We don't understand what death is, because we will never encounter it naturally, but unnaturally we will, so we fear it anyway. But that is not the point, Syaoran. The point is, Clow left us despite the fact we tried to keep him alive, and it wasn't us who had given up. It was him. He left every one of us a failure, alone and forgotten, while he tended to his own needs. It wasn't his fault. He was exhausted. He was old. But you, Syaoran, you are young, you are in the prime of your life. I love you Syaoran. We all do. Don't do this to us."

He was trembling badly, his hands clutching tightly at mine as if he was afraid if he let go I will. I looked into him and I stared right into his eyes, almost thinking that if I can master the will and strength of his eyes than I can do anything. Father seemed to get the message and we looked steadily at each other.

Instead of answering, I dug my elbows into the bed and tried to sit up. Father tried to help me, but I gently elbowed him aside. And I remember thinking, Since when did sitting up get so hard? I collapsed back down for a minute, resting for a brief time. Then I tried again, like a young, newborn antelope trying to climb to its feet. I finally pushed myself up, feeling woozy, the room feels so stuffed! And I looked to the window.
" Do you want me to open it?" Father asked, his voice sounded hopeful. I shook my head, opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was gone. I pointed to myself and then at the window. Father nodded and helped me out of bed, and I staggered to the window.

Leaning out of the opened window, I breathed the air. Clow was right, life is beautiful, fresh, clean, young, in the prime of its youth. I listened to the sound of crickets, the fresh scent of leaves on trees, who are napping. I leaned further and further, only to feel a strong arm around me pulling me back.
" You'll fall."
I'm not. I wanted to say. And I pointed out.
" You..." Father blinked, not understanding.
I rubbed my throat. How come I couldn't speak? I pointed out again.
" You want to..." Father looked out, and then he twitched.
" Fly?"
I had wanted to feel the wind, somehow feel some life again. Father gathered me in his arms and he leaped through the window.

It was nighttime. The air was fresh and cool, the stars were bright, and there was a half moon. A light breeze lifted us gently. I will never forget that night, forget the feeling of the wind around my arms, blowing my hair back, the taste of the air on my skin, the scent, just the feeling of flying. It was different from riding on Sakura's baton, because with someone like my otou-san, it is almost the same as flying by yourself.

It was that night when there was proof I was Yue's son. Yue had flew high and let go of me, letting me fall a few yards as if diving. But the thermal was strong, and I rode it. Father flew behind me, slightly bewildered. I got nervous, and then I fell. Then I realized that I had to relax, which I did.

One bad thing about gliding: You can't always go where you want to.


Father and I came home some time before dawn. I guess it was that night when I decided I wanted to live again. In the realm of the dead, you won't feel the wind, you won't see the stars. You won't hear the crickets of the night, or smell the freshness of the clean, night air. There are no scents of the leaves of trees, no chance to fly like here in the living world You won't live your life. In the realm of the dead, all is empty. All is dark. All is still. All is dead.