Author's Notes: Finally back to the present. Yay! And since I've put so, so much drama and depressing-ness into the first few chapters, I thought I could vary it and put a nice little interchapter here, with some happy moments, some sad ones, and some mushy ones. It's a pathetic little way of making up for character deaths later on…hehe, gave away a secret. Oh well, it's not as if you didn't expect something like that huh? But I'm not going to tell you who dies… *zips mouth*
Arigato gozaimasu to kY (not as late this chapter, hehe), Mistress Clow Pixie (don't you dare touch my stash =P), Rhea-chan, CreatiStar (you! You are updating soon!), Little Blossom, Silver-Cherry, Caoilfionn (Tolstoy? Flattery's not good for my ego. By the way, where's 'into the gray?', mya (I hope to get the other characters into the present soon).
This chapter will be dedicated to Wings of Fire. I love death threats, absolutely lovely. Sorry about the long wait, crap school and such. Thanks big time for the time to craft a death threat. =)
Slipping AwayChapter 7: Foreign Familiarity
Sakura's lids parted to the early morning, an array of orange and yellow signaling dawn. She yawned, stretching her aching joints, tingling sensation in her lungs. Blinking, she sat up, looking around her in confusion, hands embedded in a soft pillow, the scattering of sheets and blankets twisting around her body. With a yawning breath, she gingerly threw a leg off the bed, wincing at the unnatural coldness of the wooden floor. Pressing her soles flat to the floor she tested her limbs, the aching cold dissipating as she accustomed herself.
A quick cursory glance around the room told her it was Syaoran's, neat-stacked books and papers sitting quietly on a plain desk, bare white walls occasionally broken by calligraphy and faint brush artwork. But what attracted her more was the smell that seemed to permeate the room; the room smelled of being lived in, not cold and dead as her apartment had been after Syaoran's death. This room vibrated with some underlying energy and she felt it skim along her skin, throwing warmth through her fingertips. It was a remote feeling that stirred in her, something almost like being glad to be alive, replacing the constant wish of never being born at all.
With her newfound realization, she sprang at the balcony curtains, drawing them back fully to reveal the wide expanse of blue skies and the fiery ball of the sun blazing along the horizon. Almost hesitantly, she cracked open the glass partition, dreading to feel a familiar quick wind laced with dust and pollution. Instead, a distinctly natural aroma filtered through, somehow comforting against her bare arms. As if fearing to disturb the balance, she inched her way onto the terrace, scarcely breathing lest she disturb the view. But nothing changed; the birds still sang courtship songs, the quiet rumble of cars came down the street, the wind was still a companion whispering in her ear consolation. She breathed, fully, for what seemed like hours, inhaling the scents and life that emanated before her, her mind driving away the rank haze that always seemed to dwell inside her. Just laying her head against the railing and looking at sunrise with a slanted view was more than she ever dreamed, refreshing those memories of being a child and taking for granted that the grass would always be green, that her father and brother would always be there, that she would live a happy life. And one by one, she was proven wrong, the harsh realities meeting her as she stumbled blindly through the totalitarianism of her life, each movement forced on her in response to some uncontrollable outside power. And slowly, without knowing it, she was dying, in more ways than one, half clinging desperately to what she could piece together of life, reveling in just being with Syaoran, but all the while fighting off the knowledge that she was losing herself, to missions, to fighting, to violence… But now, it was coming closer to the end, an unnatural end, but an end nonetheless. Almost morbidly she felt wonderful knowing she would die on a planet that was still alive, that her body would somehow nourish life itself instead of being some nameless corpse limed, rotting in a mass grave. Her eyes shut for what should have only been a minute, but the serenity of acceptance fixed them together, sleep casually flirting with her and pulling her deeper into insensibility. She fell to her knees, drifting off against the iron fence, lulled by the pleasantness of remembrance.
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Syaoran wasn't sure how long he'd been staring at the wall clock, an hour at least. That was the last thing on his mind, Sakura taking up most of his mental faculties. He wanted to help her, wanted to so badly that he didn't know why. And yet, she was asking him for nearly the impossible; he didn't understand 'tunneling' or how he was supposed to help her at all. He didn't want to disappoint her, didn't want to be a failure when she needed him. And she was only a stranger, someone he'd known for a little over a day. He ran a hand through his hair, noting another full sweep of the second hand. With a few joints cracking, he lifted himself from the couch, stretching in the mid morning mildness. The weekend beckoned him forward, eyes drifting past the bundle of schematics and notes crammed desperately into a briefcase, over the blinking answering machine sure to be brimming with office messages, family obligations or long distance carrier offers. His gaze stopped at his door, burrowing through the wood to watch the woman that was asleep beyond. Was there etiquette to follow? He didn't know; he just followed his feet to the door and knocked softly but resolutely. Not hearing an answer, he twisted the knob, a breeze of flowers and sunshine wafting past him as the door gave way. The rumpled sheets moved slightly as they caught summer's breath inflating and pouting at having been abandoned. Following the path to the origin, he watched Sakura's figure slumped along the railing. He slid quietly to her side, gingerly pulling her away from the edge and trying unsuccessfully to gather her up in his arms and take her back to bed. It was a natural instinct, one that said far more than words probably ever could; in fact, he hadn't the will to even try to understand what led him on. His movement, as gentle as he tried to make them, caused Sakura to fidget, shedding the cover of slumber. Embarrassed, Syaoran let his arms drop to his sides, kneeling uncomfortably next to her on the concrete ground.
Sakura smiled, rubbing her eyes and seeing Syaoran's face in view. Resolutely she cleared her head, not wishing to make the same mistake she made before. "Morning…"
Syaoran averted his eyes to the bustle of Saturday morning in Tomoeda, suddenly self-conscious that he may be staring too much. "Oh, yeah, morning…"
Sakura pulled herself up, blinking at the deep imprints of the railings along her palms, and trailing the bars' path down the right side of her face. "I must look like hell…" She laughed a little awkwardly, trying out the long forgotten gesture. "Must be rusty…"
"Rusty?"
"Haven't laughed, really laughed in a while; oh well…" She massaged her shoulder as she went back into Syaoran's bedroom, casting an impatient look at him. "Well? What's there to eat around here?"
Syaoran had risen and brought himself to the bed, sitting comfortably on the familiar mattress. "I haven't done any food shopping for some time so…how about we order lunch? It's about noon…"
A glint of some plan formed in Sakura's eyes, the tangible possibility brightening her day immensely. "Sounds okay, but how about we go out to eat? You can show me your Tomoeda…" A forlorn note invaded her tone for a moment, murmuring quietly to herself. "It's been so long, so very long…"
"Sure, let's go. But we've got to get dressed or something." He looked down at his clothes, wrinkled with sleep, clinging awkwardly to one side. "I'm going to take a shower…" Syaoran walked midway thought the doorway when an arm pulled him back.
Sakura smiled wryly, feeling too good to the let the challenge go. "What do you mean you? I'm taking a shower first."
"And leave me the cold water I don't think so."
"Well, we'll do this fairly." She stood up and pulled Syaoran into the living room, facing the hallway. "We'll race; whoever gets there first, gets the first shower."
Syaoran looked incredulously at the girl beside him; he hadn't had a race since he was a child. "A race? Aren't we a little old for that?"
Sakura screwed up her eyes for a moment. "No; we're not. Are you afraid you'll lose to me?"
The challenge had its effect. "On the count of three."
"One…"
"Two…"
"Three!" Both lunged forward, bursting through the living room, banging down the hallway. As Syaoran pulled ahead and near the doorway, Sakura slackened, coughing loudly.
Syaoran looked to his left, Sakura at having disappeared from his side. He looked back to find her kneeling on the ground, coughing and gasping for air. Worriedly, he ran back to her. "Are you okay?"
Sakura nodded quickly. "Just need my medicine…in coat pocket."
Syaoran turned to hurry back to his bedroom when the sounds of footsteps pounding away in the opposite direction caught his attention. "Hey!" The only reply was the blur of Sakura's figure darting into the bathroom, door slamming shut. He almost broke something, he was so irritated. "That's not fair!"
Sakura's voice came muffled but cheerful form the other side of the door. "Can't a dying girl get a break?"
Syaoran didn't know what to say; her reply was meant in jest, but it was too true to laugh at. He tried to say something but the sound of running water stopped him. He sighed, retreating back to the living room. He needed some time to get everything in his mind to quiet down.
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Sakura let her head fall softly against the bathroom door, breathing deeply, trying desperately to control the pain that spread in her chest with every inhalation. Her coughing fit wasn't a ploy; Yana's disease had gotten her mid-stride, seizing her body with pain, the feeling of suffocation welling up inside. Only by sheer luck had she been able to retreat to the bathroom, collapsing against the tile floor as the door slammed behind her. It was better that Syaoran thought it was a joke; there'd be no hurt or concern over her; she didn't want it; she didn't need it. She took a deep breath and managed to crawl to the tub, hoping she could stave off the coughing until she finished her shower. Sitting under the jets, she closed her eyes and tried to stop the ache that was building inside. The hot steam rose and filled the air; doing a little to clear her lungs. She timed herself mechanically, approximating each second that would have to go by before she reached her limit. It was getting shorter these days, especially in the last month; where once she could stave off medication for hours, it now dwindled to what seemed like mere minutes. So in her mind, she counted off, robotically scrubbing at her skin with the soap, ignoring the water that nearly blinded her. 'Fifteen twenty, fifteen twenty-one…' When the pain that wrenched in her would not longer be denied, she stopped counting, registering her dwindling endurance. Twenty minutes and ten seconds. As quickly as she could, she threw a towel around her, deciding her action. Syaoran can't see her face; of all the emotions she had mastered, pain was not one of them. And the only way for him to not see her was to be seen herself, in the most literal sense there could be.
She loosened the towel decisively, taking a rasping breath and bolted from the door. The action of swinging open the door caught the edge of her towel, weaving it higher on her thigh. As expected Syaoran was on the other side of the door waiting, and again as she expected, he bloomed red and covered his eyes. She smiled crookedly, one half of her face in amusement, the other paralyzed by the raging heat that boiled in her stomach. "Sorry, Syaoran, I forgot my clothes and…" She stopped talking as his bedroom door closed behind her. Without hesitation she fumbled blindly in her coat pockets feeling the wrapped mess of vials and gadgets. The unctuous fluid burned its own path inside her, advancing to meet her infection, its potency quieting the symptoms. She rubbed her eyes quickly, dispelling the pained tears that had formed within the short minutes from the bathroom to the bedroom. Fighting off the lethargy of the medication, she threw open the closet and drawers picking out whatever androgynous clothing would fit her. A thin, T-shirt unearthed itself in her haste, buried in the deeper reaches of the closet. She tentatively stretched the material filling it with her own form, slightly large but still accommodating her. When she reappeared, collected, Syaoran raised an eyebrow.
"Not much into fashion huh?"
"What?" Sakura looked down at herself, comfortable in her clothes, not patched or dirty or smelling like suffering. "What'd you expect me to wear?"
"I guess you have a point."
Sakura smiled broadly, perhaps a little more than that would've been normal. "Then let's go; I'm starved."
Syaoran couldn't help but give her an appraising look, confused and unnerved to a degree. "Everything okay?"
"Couldn't be better." Sakura hurried through the doorway into the hall, the sliding sounds of baggy jeans in her wake.
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Syaoran chewed thoughtfully, trying to find some way to bring up the subject. "Sakura?"
Sakura busied herself raking fingers through her knotted hair, alternately groaning and whimpering in frustration and pain as her fingers twined themselves helplessly in her strands. "Ugh, I really should've brushed." Finally yanking her hands free accompanied with an uncontrollable yelp of pain, a few severed strands coiling her digits. "Ow." She turned questioning eyes to Syaoran. "Did you say something?"
He tried to suppress a laugh but failed miserably, choking in the effort. "N-nothing."
Sakura pointed her chopstick threateningly, almost comically so. "It's not funny; it hurt." She leaned forward, poking his cheek with the wooden utensil. "How'd you like me to laugh at you when you get hurt? Wouldn't be so funny then, would it?"
Syaoran grimaced, turning his face away from the assault. "Stop that." His face closed even more as Sakura continued to poke him mercilessly. "Hey stop it; okay, okay. I'm sorry."
"You better be." Sakura smirked triumphantly as she put down her weapon. "Now that you're sincerely sorry, what were you saying before?"
"I…" Syaoran looked abruptly around, not wishing to make eye contact. "I mean; what about you know…Yana?"
Sakura's features darkened momentarily. "I'm waiting for contact from the others, if they're alive anyway. Probably in the next couple of days. We wait." Nostalgia flitted. "But in the meantime, we can have some fun." She felt braver that she wanted to be, falling back into the remembrances of her other life. She winked slyly. "What do you say?"
Syaoran stammered, scarlet, blinking and starting unsuccessfully many times. "I…well…if you, that is…"
A low ripple of laugher met his embarrassment. "Kidding; just kidding. Come on, we're done, there's still hours ahead of us."
"Y-yeah, sure." A swipe of a credit card and both were strolling down the unvisited paths of the park.
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"It's nice to smell flowers, don't you think so?"
Syaoran looked around him, red and orange and green painting the ground. "I guess; don't really stop to smell the flowers much."
"Shame. And it's all around you too." Sakura bent down, snapping a dandelion from its colony, tucking it into her hair. "At least these knots are serving some purpose."
"Uh-huh." A comfortable silence passed, the scraping of feet moving against the gravel path. The scenery changed gradually, the melting of trees to bushes to meadow. A small pond grew up to meet them, water undisturbed but by the floating lilies. Syaoran watched his feet play with a blade of grass as they sat on a bench overlooking the teeming waters. "You know what?"
"Hmm?"
"I don't really know anything about you?"
"You mean all those little boring details? Why'd you want to know them?"
"You made me go through my entire life's history last night; I think it's your turn."
Silence. Sakura looked uneasily at a fish that came bobbing up to eat, diving back into the murky obscurity. Could she trust herself to keep herself calm? She looked askance at Syaoran's face and knew that she at least owed him something in return for his kindness. "I guess it is; it's just not a very pretty picture you know, and it's long and complicated…"
"That's what makes stories interesting." Syaoran attempted to smile reassuringly, somehow trying to lighten the mood.
"Uh-huh; I'm not sure if I believe you…" Sakura lifted her eyes to the sky, a gesture she'd been doing ever since she arrived, hoping that maybe she'll find a sign that Syaoran or her father or her brother would be somewhere up there and happy. As it was, she searched without success. "Fine, where do you want me to start?"
"Your family?"
"I knew you were going to say that." Sakura grinned as the memories resurfaced. "My mother died in childbirth so I never knew her. My father said she was wonderful; I still wished I could've met her. But I grew up happy with Otou-san and Oni-chan. Otou-san was an archaeologist at the local university; he knew everything. He used to get up early and make me breakfast; I still wake up sometimes and expect him sitting on my bed with a plate full of pancakes. When everything changed, you know…" Sakura made a gesture with her hand, hating to utter the name from her lips. "Otou-san was against it, went around giving speeches and getting support for a rebellion, but he died. Killed, assassinated, whatever you want to call it. It wasn't long after when the big war came; Oni-chan joined the army. I was so proud of him, even though I was only a little teenager. My big brother was going to fight evil and win. He never returned from the front…."
Syaoran was starting to regret asking for Sakura's life history. A trail of tears ran its way down the ravine of her nose. He almost shyly took her hand, giving a comforting squeeze. "Hey, you don't have to continue if you don't want to…"
Sakura looked grateful but pulled her hand out of Syaoran's, shaking her head dismissively. "No; it's about time I face all this. I've been keeping it in too long; it's not healthy." She nearly laughed at the irony of an emotional poison versus a physical one. "It's not a happy ending story, but in a way it wasn't all bad. I went to live with an aunt who gave me a nice home away from everything in the countryside; it was a good five years before she fell sick and passed away. You know?" Sakura looked genuinely happy. "That was about the time when I met you."
"Me?" Syaoran hit himself on the head; for a moment he thought she meant him. "Your Syaoran right?"
"Yeah…" Her smile grew even larger. "After my aunt's death, I moved back to Tomoeda. Syaoran was working in a bar at that time, waitering a little, doing odd jobs, cleaning tables. Even then, work was beginning to get hard to find. I wasn't in too good a mood, being alone and frightened of the new city, so I was understandably a little sensitive and short tempered."
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Sakura looked up from her glass of cheap red wine into the musty air of the bar, the general languid indifference that had settled after Yana's ascendance to power was especially powerful tonight. "Waiter!" She signaled to a young man as he passed by, but found him heading straight past her to another table. She shook her head in annoyance, trying a second time, but finding the man ignoring her again. It wasn't a good day that day, and the night wasn't much better. Getting up from her seat, Sakura sought out the manager, making a large confession of her complaints. The little manager nodded eagerly going straight off to find Syaoran, after clearing Sakura' bill. She smirked almost superiorly as she sat back down to listen to the droning chatter of half a dozen tables and the faint strains of jazzy music wafting about. After what seemed like an hour, she got up, draining her glass of its red fire and walked out into the clear night. Mid stride she paused hearing someone shouting behind her.
"Miss!" A male voice called out, again and again. "Miss!"
Sakura looked around confused, watching as the waiter run up to her. "Are you talking to me?"
The man gave her a cursory roll of the eyes. "Do you see any other girls around here?"
Sakura narrowed her eyes; this is not how she'd like to end the night. "I don't need your sarcasm; what do you want?"
Syaoran neither gave her a veiled nor an euphemistic answer speaking bluntly and acidly. "You got me fired."
Sakura almost smirked again, but thought better as the man opposite her remained fuming. "So? You ignored me repeatedly; I complained to the manager. It's not my fault the he decided to fire you."
Syaroan sneered. "Then it's not your fault either that my family will be starving without my work money."
Sakura spat back, ready to engage in a 'whose life is worse' argument. "At least you have family; they're alive and well, and mine are all dead. You'll find another job and support them; I can't find another family can I?" She turned on her back, walking briskly away, not seeing Syaoran's expression but certain it was some mixture of pity and guilt, like all the glances she got when she people found out about her past. With some disgust, she entered her apartment building; apparently, this night wasn't one to cherish.
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Sakura watched in amusement at Syaoran's confused expression. "You thought it was love at first sight? Syaoran used to say so, but I knew he was lying. I guess it wouldn't have been very romantic to say he hated me the first time we met." She laughed then, a trifle more natural than morning. "But fortunately, we got thrown together and we sort of grew into friends."
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The sign was tempting to her, as it was to everyone else. Help Wanted. Sakura entered the restaurant, looking at dismay at the half dozen faces that seemed to appraise right back at her. Obviously, everyone wanted this job. A woman with short red hair approached Sakura, handing her a clipboard and application. "You are applying correct?"
"Un. How many openings are there?"
"Three." The woman nodded her word, turned swiftly around, a blur of henna and disappeared behind a wall.
Sakura bit the end of the pen, a habit she never quite got rid of; she felt especially bad when she realized she'd rendered the pen unusable after her and knew how much inflation had made ordinary things like pens ridiculously expensive. She held out little hope of being able to compete against the other applicants as she had no prior work experience and was fairly certain her clumsiness would plummet her into debt as the tally of broken dishes and glasses added up.
Surprised was not the word when she got a letter offering her the job; if the manager hadn't been from the countryside too, Sakura doubted her chances of even being really considered. She almost danced in the shabby living room, but thought better lest the floorboards split and a gaping hole open up underneath her.
"Oh." That reaction was not the customary hello of coworkers, but as the old cliché goes desperate times call for desperate measures. Sakura found herself staring at the waiter from the bar, dressed in restaurant uniform. "You're working here too?"
Syaoran merely nodded, placing a glass of water on his tray and heading out of the kitchen.
Sakura groaned into her hands; it would not be easy working with someone who hated you. "Crap." With a fierce bang of her head against the swinging doors, she staggered out into the sea of tables.
"What a bitch." Sakura threw off her apron, flinging the check pad onto a stainless steel countertop. She looked maniacally at her pen, for a flash lapse in sanity moment wishing to jam it into her chest and get everything over with.
"What's wrong with you?"
Sakura turned her head to Syaoran, his apron discarded, holding a bowl of rice. "Nothing, just a little argument with management. All nice and smiley in the interview and then suddenly super bitch boss."
Syaoran finished his rice, looking a little at Sakura's fuming figure. She was sort of funny; maybe she wasn't so bad after all. "Yeah. Good night." He walked out of the kitchen leaving a gaping Sakura behind.
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"Okay, okay, it wasn't 'let's-be-best-friends' but it was a start. But Syaoran was too shy for his own good, taking months to get up the nerve to ask me out."
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"I-I…" Syaoran stammered horribly as he watched Sakura's curiosity.
"Yes?" Sakura for one was completely lost; he'd decided to walk her home today and was looking as if he'd die from embarrassment. "Is there something…?"
"Un. I…well, you know we've been friends right?" Syaoran fidgeted, a hot red tiding over his face. "And I wanted to know…if you'd go out with me?"
Sakura stood silent for a frightened moment; how'd this ever come up between them? But then again, she'd liked his company the past few months, came to enjoy his presence. Maybe it wasn't such an unwelcome idea… "Um, yeah, sure." She looked timid on the street, nervous at the intimacy that had just risen between them.
"Great. I mean… How about…" Syaoran was a little lost, mind racing past every possible time and place.
Sakura had her mind made up, the easiest and most cost effective course of action. "Tell you what. Do you have time now? We could get some disgusting coffee."
Syaoran laughed a little, relieved at the sudden burden lifted. "Sure."
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"So that's the story?"
Sakura nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Yep, not much I know, but all the better for it. After a while things got really deep and I feel in love and then we got married. Then everything else and now I'm here." She ended flatly, not deliberately, but it was an apposite ending to describe the past year: flat.
The sun dipped below the horizon, the afternoon disappearing into the awakening twilight. "You want to go back?"
Sakura took a deep breath, the not wholly uncomfortable bleach smell of mowed grass. "I think I'd like to stay out a little longer, see what the city is like at night. How about some getting some disgusting coffee?"
Syaoran cringed a little in distaste. "What?"
"Nothing; inside joke I guess."
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The soft skein of acoustic guitar sailed along the rippling aroma of coffee. Sakura found herself picking out the minor strains in this music, comforting fingers chords looping and twisting around her. "Hmm?"
Syaoran stopped talking, a little put off that Sakura had spaced out again. "I asked if you wanted get out of here."
"Why; it's so peaceful and nice here."
"Because it's closing time. Haven't you noticed half the lights turned off; the workers have been watching us for the past five minutes?"
Sakura looked intensely embarrassed, something new to her character. A redness touched her ears as she laughed a little awkwardly immediately dragging Syaoran out of the store, coffees left steaming in the darkened interior. She thumped Syaoran's chest as they emerged from the doorway. "You should've told me it was closing time."
"I did. You were off in your own little world."
Sakura pondered the statement for a second, taking a prolonged silence to watch the moon hang lugubriously in the night sky. This wasn't a day for self-pity; she was determined to have fun, do something besides sulk and grieve. Stricken, she twisted the idea around in her head, finally settling herself at Syaoran's side, tugging at his arm. "You're it!" Not waiting for a reaction, she drove forward down the street, night air sliding across her face, catching the dandelion and spraying a feathery trail behind her.
Syaoran stood motionless, processing all that happened within the past five seconds. He allowed himself to blink once in confusion before a retaliatory smile surfaced. Without further hesitation, he pursued her, pounding footsteps into the buzzing night.
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Breathing hard, Sakura leaned against the apartment door, Syaoran's figure shadowing from the stairwell. "Couldn't catch up to little old me?"
Syaoran smiled crookedly, the endorphins of the chase seizing his mind. "Stop teasing." He planted both arms against the door, trapping Sakura between him and the apartment. "I've got you now."
Sakura held her breath; he was too close for comfort. This shouldn't happen; as much as she wanted to have Syaoran again, he was gone. "Syaoran…"
"Shh." Syaoran leaned closer, perilously predatory yet gentle. "Sakura…"
Lifting a hand to push him away, Sakura froze as familiar vibration skimmed along her thigh. "Shit." The expletive lost itself as the vibration developed into a strident beeping rhythm.
Syaoran stepped away from Sakura, suddenly fully aware of his surroundings. "What's that sound?"
Sakura withdrew the metal disk from her pocket, a faint glow pulsating. She looked solemnly from Syaoran's face back down to the insistent device. "The beginning."
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Author's Note: Heh heh; sorry about the cliffhanger, but it couldn't be helped. Ooh, the big plotty part is coming up. Enjoy the mush everyone? Review please?