Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of the CCS characters although I wish so bad that I own Eriol!!!!
yadayadayada: This is based on the short story by Isabel Allende of the same title. Absolutely one of the most beautiful and tragic love stories I have ever read. I thank my English professor for assigning our class to read it ^___^
Thank you so much to my beta-reader, Caty-chan! YAY! Me really happy me have a beta-reader now! ^__^
Aaaaaaaaand of course, thank you so much to those who reviewed! Wheeeeeeeeee!! I don't care to receive lots of reviews, but I'm so touched that there are people who care! LOL! I'm really sorry if it took me so long to update this. It's our sembreak now so I have lots of time. I'm actually debating with myself if I should continue this or not. *shrugs* I've just realized what a dark fic I'm writing….heehee. But I've decided I will anyway!
Fuu – thank you for your support! *hugs* you reviewed my other fic too!
The Great One – hey, haven't heard from you in a LONG time! In this chappie, your questions still won't be answered, sorry *grins*
hypercutiekins – you really ARE hyper *LOL* heehee!
StarChild – gomen, gomen for taking so long!
meemee – this chappie has loads of Eriol ^^
cm2 – waaaaaaaaaah! *glomps* thank you for putting my stories in your favorites list! *gets teary eyed*
VonDoom – intense…is a nice way of describing this fic ^^ thank you!
(blank) (he or she didn't put a name!) – really sorry for not updating ASAP!
REVENGE
Chapter 3Tomoyo Daidouji was not the only one who was having sleepless nights.
Eriol Hiiragizawa could not forget what happened during that fateful night either. While galloping away from the place, he couldn't help but feel as though he had left something behind. His heart.
He suddenly became tired, tired of being violent, of being always like this, tired of always taking and taking but never giving in return. He suddenly found all this pointless. He wanted to have peace.
Ten years has passed since that fateful night. Eriol Hiiragizawa was now a changed man. He had stopped pillaging towns and doing more violence. He stopped going off to wars; putting away his guns. Ten years had changed him into an honest, hardworking man. People started to address him "Sir." He worked hard and soon owned vast lands and riches. He had everything in his disposal, yet he never abused anything ever again.
One would suppose he was happy, that he gained peace and prosperity after all those years of turmoil. He was prosperous, yes. But at peace? No, no indeed he was not. Being rich, and handsome too to top it off, was like being a magnet to ladies all over the land. He entertained each of them, yet never engaged in serious relationships. He couldn't bear to. All the women he encountered with had the face of the Queen of Carnival.
It was ten years! He couldn't forget her and he didn't know why. Even if he tried, there were those minstrels and poets who went about, singing about her loveliness. She haunted him in his dreams. Whenever he closed his eyes, he would see her as he did the last time he ever saw her; sprawled on the floor, her dress a bloody mess, her raven hair flowing out from under her, eyes blissfully closed and he knew if they were open he would be staring into two beautiful violet orbs that seemed to see right through him. It made no difference if he was awake either. Even if he was alone, or surrounded with people, he always saw her—her face in the crowd, a solitary girl walking alone, or riding by. It was driving him insane.
There was another party at his mansion, to celebrate his thirty-seventh birthday. He was surrounded with the people who he helped and helped him, the people he'd been with since he decided to live a new life. But he wasn't in the mood to celebrate. He wanted to be alone, to get away from it all. He ran his gaze down the table and suddenly gasped out loud, bucking in his seat. It was her again, lying on the table, bloodied and bruised, her silky strands spread out, her skin ghastly pale. The crown of roses was still on her head. He blinked, and the vision was gone. He became aware of the scent of roses lingering heavily in the air, although there were no roses in the vicinity.
Eriol's sanity nearly snapped. He stood up suddenly, his chair clattering to the floor. Unaware of the startled looks of his guests, he strode to the hall and grabbed his coat and hat, and bade a servant to open the door.
"Where are you going, Sir Eriol?" the servant asked, holding the door open for him.
"To atone for an old injury," he said grimly. Putting on his hat, he walked away.
*****
How things have changed in the last ten years. A place 5 miles away would take about 2 hours to reach if one was just walking. Faster, if one was riding a horse. But it would take thirty minutes or even less to reach it if one was traveling by car.
And then he was there, back in the town where Tomoyo Daidouji lived, and still lived up to now. It was the last town he had ever pillaged. He stepped out of his car and looked around. He was not the least bit surprised that the town looked as lively as ever. It has been ten years, after all. He knew it was Tomoyo who brought the town back to its former glory. What he could not understand was why she still lived there, after what happened—after what he had done to her. The thought that maybe, she was waiting for him to return, sent chills up his spine.
What is he doing here? Does he think he can face her after all those years? Yet something held him, he can't turn back now. Almost mechanically, he moved forward to walk through the streets. At first he walked rather hurriedly, afraid that the townspeople would recognize who he was. Everybody went on his or her own way, unmindful of him. He unconsciously relaxed, pacing more slowly. He even went inside some stores, staring at their displays and at the same time not really seeing them. What the hell is he doing?! He went here to face Tomoyo Daidouji once and for all, yet he was stalling for time.
He looked around and his eyes fell on an old woman standing by the pavement. Her head was bent down, her hair like a curtain covering her face. She was selling roses. Roses… Almost in a daze, Eriol walked towards the old woman. Suddenly she lifted her head, and Eriol reeled back. Tomoyo! He blinked, then she was gone. The roses were left lying on the ground. He whirled around, trying to look for her. Then he shook his head. He was not going to let his mind play tricks on him like this! He knew exactly where she was. He had the feeling she knew he was here. Gathering his resolve, he strode purposefully to the sprawling mansion atop the hill.
His spine tingled while walking along the path. Everything almost looked the same. The trees were they had hanged Mayor Daidouji's men were still there…there was the part of the hill where they had slaughtered the dogs…and on this very same path—was where they had dragged the Mayor's body up and down till it was nothing but battered flesh—
He ran, straying away from the path. He could feel them, they were haunting him. They want him dead. He tried to choke down the sobs rising in his throat. Wearily, he sat down on the grass, burying his face in his hands. He didn't realize that his whole being was shaking violently.
After a while he became aware of a trickling sound coming not far from were he was. He stood up, nearly stumbled, and walked towards the source of the sound. He came to a fountain surrounded by lush rose bushes. A figure emerged from behind the bushes in swirling skirts. He froze. This is it. He was coming face to face with Tomoyo Daidouji. He closed his eyes in resignation as she spoke, her voice colder than ice, yet it was melodious to his ears.
"You've come at last, Eriol Hiiragizawa."