Chapter 12-Yue
" But you might have a chance." I say. " You're determined. You can't lose now.
After surviving so long..."
" I'm so tired..." Was his reply.
Wasn't it just a few weeks ago when he was laughing? Now he couldn't even move. It was so many weeks now. He was pale, his cheeks sunken, his eyes clouded and glassy. His wrists were bony and his joints on his fingers swelled. His hair was damp with sweat. He couldn't move; every movement caused him pain. He saw visions of Sakura and himself when they were young. Saw visions of Clow. Saw his mother, his sisters, Meiling. Saw light, the radiant light. Completely dazzling him. But it was only his bedroom. His room. On earth. And the youthfulness of the past years are gone and never to return. Sakura's hair was no longer short; it was shoulder length. His mother did not come. Meiling never appeared.
" I know you are tired." I was crying. " But you can't leave me. You can't leave all of us. And after all you've been through, after all we've been through, you don't deserve this. Please Syaoran-"
He silenced me with a look of his eyes, the clouds pulling apart to reveal the gold
beneath.
" Don't deserve, Daddy?" he smiled, taking my hand with a movement that caused
him pain. He hissed. " Don't deserve to die." He blinked and relaxed. " Do we know
I don't deserve to die? It isn't our position to judge. You see all those movies and
stories where the villain was defeated by the hero, and was spared because the hero
didn't want to be as bad as the villain. That is not the right reason, Daddy. The
reason is because no one knows what others deserve. We are all at the same level of
life. We cannot see everything. And because we cannot see we do not know."
" Then do I deserve this?" I suddenly asked quietly. " Do you know what
immortality feels like?"
He gave me a look, a look that made me feel hopeful. It was a strange look, one of sympathy and search. There was a wavered look in those amber eyes, as if he didn't know what to do or say. A pleading look, almost, and after a long moment he moved his arms, and I embraced him. He was so weak, so exhausted, he could barely breathe. And not even sleep could rest him. He trembled a little, sweating. I let him go.
" Where is Eriol-san?" He suddenly asked.
I blinked. " In England, of course, you knew that."
" Oh, right." Syaoran tried to sit up. He couldn't.
" Don't try." I told him. " Just rest."
" I can't rest as long as I'm trying to stay alive." Syaoran replied, with logic. " Every
second is a battle for survival." He closed his eyes. " I'm so tired Yue. It's so hard. I
feel myself slipping..."
I watched him. What more could I do? I could not fight his battle for him, as much as I gladly would.
Tell him to let go for now; we'll help him stay. The dead whispered in my mind.
" The spirits will help you. Just relax." I told him. And Syaoran took a look at me,
and then he began to shiver. Wave after wave of trembling broke down through
him. He broke into cold sweat. Then he collapsed completely into the bed. His eyes
closed. When I called him he didn't reply.
Sakura came in the next day with a few ingredients for honey milk, which is milk,
honey, and a little sugar. They were certainly not for Yukito, but Yukito drank some
anyway, his throat dry and the pot still boiling water since they ran out of
immediate ones. Yukito and I were both very tired, without being able to sleep
because we both feared Syaoran would leave any minute.
But surprisingly he hung on, exhausted and afraid, but he clung on with all his will. The dead fell silent, their auras gone, they too, exhausted from the struggle, but the dragon remained, and so did he. Nighttime, and the moon was full and bright. My son struggled out of bed and made his way towards the window.
It was one of those nights when the air was fresh and cool, rare nights, since it was hot this summer. The sky was black and clear, with no clouds shrouding them. All was silent, not even the crickets called. And when Syaoran leaped out, the fresh winds carried him up. I followed.
He was like a dead leaf born upon the wind, fluttering and twirling like the wings of a butterfly, faded like a dried flower cut off its stem, a shower of petals in the spring that scattered on the ground, to form a colorful carpet of beauty and nature. For he went where the wind went, flew where the wind flew, moved as the wind wishes him to move with no will of his own. It was that night when I realized that this battle was his alone, that as he had gone with the moving breeze, he had gone with the death itself, moving where it wanted to move, going where it wanted to go. And whenever I try to help him, the wind carries him away, so the only thing I could do was simply watch as he was torn away from me. The only difference was the wind brought him back. Would death give him back to me as well? Would he ever heal? Would he ever be happy and fortunate?
Such questions had once made me afraid. Because Clow Reed had also ran through the course of this danger. Terrible diseases lingered in human flesh, not just now, but thousands of years ago. Clow Reed was a mortal man, doomed to die, with a man's strengths and a man's weaknesses. Thousands of years ago man became invincible to the same species alone, and to those above them they cannot hide. Death my creator does not understand and neither do any of the human kind. And just like the tree as she watches the leaf, Clow was torn away from me.
Some diseases kill love. The mere presence poisons the man's strength and weakness. Fear brings love and takes it away, just as life and death comes and goes. And with the loss proven mightier than the strength of the heart, love abandons whom it comforts.
But because we were in doubt of his fate, hope still remains. My hope still remains. Because Syaoran is strong. Syaoran's will is mighty. And unlike how he had ridden the wind, he had fought with the course of death. And death, many a time, had found him hard to lead, slowing its pace to keep up with Jingxi, guiding in circles so he would agree. And perhaps when he is weakest he is strongest. So when death is near death, he will not touch it, will never reach his limit. A sword through his heart will not hinder his struggle. He will hold on to life, hold on to all that's dear to him.
And although I cannot fight his battle for him, I can still offer my support, just as everyone else is. Because in every disease it's the same thing. Doctors may support or give instructions, but the battle is still of the sick.
Perhaps our support will be enough. Perhaps our support of life will cow those of death. And when death stops leading and gives way, Syaoran will be here to stay. Not forever, perhaps. But here to stay. So that he has a future. So that he can know what it is like to be alive without fighting. Because Life is not always a battle. And just because Syaoran is currently fighting, it doesn't mean he always have to.
" I certainly wish Xuyan was still here." Eriol muttered. He came back in quite a
hurry, as if the dogs were on him. " Our little Emperor should be able to do
something useful."
" I know." Sakura agreed. " Alright. Strange that I have to use my left hand for
everything. I finished shuffling the cards."
" I guess the first thing you should do is take out the card that symbolizes Syaoran."
Kero guessed.
We basically have no idea what to do.
" That's a good way to start." Eriol agreed. " Sakura?"
Sakura drew the first card. " The Light."
" The Light?" Nakuru blinked. " That can't be right. One would have thought he
was The Fight or...something angelic."
" Please." Yukito muttered. " The Light would be the Light. He certainly isn't the
Dark. Because if he is, he would have become quite bitter some time ago."
" True." Spinel nodded. " Just put it on the floor."
" Aye." George was there as well. " Say Eriol," He continued in English, " Is it
going to be a circle or a triangle?"
" What are you talking about?" Tomoyo asked, videotaping the whole thing. It's
amazing how she manages to remember such things in such moments.
" Good question." Eriol knew what he meant. " Sakura?" he asked in Japanese. " is
it going to be a web or a pyramid?"
" Another way to put it." George made a upset face.
" Seems like a web is more common." Sakura answered absently. " I guess next is
the effort to cure him." She drew the next card. " Heal Card."
" The one that Syaoran gave you." Tomoyo observed.
Sakura hesitated, then putted it to the right of the Light Card.
" How can we be sure this is right?" I asked.
" We can't." Spinel answered. " We can only guess."
" The cards know, don't they?" Sakura asked.
" I don't know that Sakura." Eriol said softly. " We just have to try. Draw the next
card."
" Next three cards." Sakura interrupted. " Without looking."
" Why?" I asked.
" Because the next three plus the Heal make up four." Sakura answered. She drew
three, and without looking, placed the cards clockwise around the Light.
" I'm just drawing cards without looking." Sakura looked at George. " Because that
way it's easier to decide."
" Not really." Kero muttered.
Sakura drew four more cards, and put them around the four cards, this time the square is tilted at a different angle, so each corner of the inner square is facing the middle of the side of the outer square.
" Everyday his aura is fading away." Eriol sighed. " How come the draught doesn't
help anymore?"
" I don't know." I said softly. " Maybe the magic is resisting it."
" It doesn't matter what the reason is." George said quietly. " He's fading."
" If only we have the guidance of the dead." Kaho sighed.
" We do." Sakura answered. " I realized that's how they've been trying to guide me
right now. It's a little funny-they don't use a language really. Rather, they use a kind
of telepathic communication. Or something like music. I don't know. Sixth sense,
perhaps." Sakura sighed. " Now, each of us draws a card, except George."
" Why?" Kero asked.
" Because he is a wizard." Sakura sighed. " Come on. We each draw a card and
keept it. We look at it, but we keep it. Once the last person draws, the cards in the
web would be gone, and in its place would be something activated by some kind of
talisman. Come on."
My card was the Fly Card. The Phoenix that soars. Eriol's card was The Watery, spirit that cleanses. Kero's card was the Firey, as was appropriate. Spinel's card was The Time. Nakuru's card was The Sleep, a very strange card for her personality. Sakura's card...
She didn't tell us what her card was. Something special, perhaps, something that meant a lot to her. Because as soon as she looked at it a tear fell from her eye and landed on the floor. The web of cards started glowing and became a pot of flowers, not the flowers like the ones in the gardens; they were bleeding clear drops of liquid. A lovely fragrance filled the room. There was a shimmer of air around the pot of crushed flowers and then there was a silk bag, surrounding the pot. We tried opening it. The silk wouldn't yield. It did not tear, did not open, did not rip or scratch. It simply held. The fragrance wavered and then was gone.