A/N: By no means am I upset that I have to make this story a bit longer. It's just that I already had everything planned out and set up, including chapter names and definitions and dialogues and such so rearranging everything at short notice was a bit... taxing. As it is, I had to change this chapter DRASTICALLY, but that's mainly because I'm cruel ^__^ And for those wondering what medications, any kind of headache and migraine killers; I chug them by the dozen at a time, but the pain just doesn't stop *sob*.
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Chapter 13: Crescendo
Crescendo: music, n. gradual increase in loudness.
Even before he saw two dark-haired and burly men at the corner of the street he was turning, Eriol knew he was being followed. It was a twinge at first, like a tickle along the nape that tells you that something is definitely wrong, just not specifying what exactly that something is. Like fear it crept up on him, churning at the pit of his stomach, sending the tiny goose pumps to spread along the back of his neck and forearms. Soon enough, his stomach was lurching, twisting and threatening to empty all its contents the way it came.
The Lord was walking along the busy midday street, occasionally glancing at the various stalls and what they had on display when it struck him. He glanced back, looking for something, not exactly knowing what, but the sea of multi-coloured heads hid whatever it was he was looking for. From thence on, there was a butterfly-like fluttering in his bowels, and periodically he would pretend to pause in his stride and look at the nearest kiosk, just to check if he could catch a glimpse of that something. The sense of wrong was there, like this sensation of... doom, perhaps.
Eriol didn't notice the two large and vicious-looking figures shadowing his steps until the streets cleared somewhat and the stalls eventually disappeared for pedestrians and apartment buildings. Every time he would glance back, there they'd be, lingering some distance away, trying to look inconspicuous for all they were worth. And almost instantly that fear spread; he knew that Sonomi sent them, there was no other explanation. He didn't know the full extent of the woman's power, but he'd heard enough to make his blood boil in rage and dread. And with the fear of the woman also came the fear for his beloved.
There was no doubt that Daidouji Sonomi was looking for her daughter and getting to her meant going through him. His life was expendable after all, Eriol realized, and stepping over a corpse would be nothing. Eriol gulped and grinned at the implications, fastening his stride a notch. The smirk on his face was a dry one, lacking the haughty quality; it was like the one a dead man gives to his killer before the life goes out of him, a condemning one. No, he did not fear for himself. Tomoyo, she was more important, she had suffered enough in her life. Eriol loved the girl dearly, would gladly give anything for her – money, his life, the world, everything that was humanly possible.
That was why he needed to divert the men, he determined with a small nod. Whatever it mean for him, he had to protect her, he promised and going back on promises was something he didn't look too fondly on. A memory of a time so long ago came flashing by. He promised to protect her, too, but she disappeared from his arms like sand. Eriol vowed not to make the same mistake twice.
He pursed his lips into a thin line, thinking grimly that he wished he could have done more. There was a pang of pain when he thought that he'd leave Tomoyo alone, but then Sakura and Syaoran would also be there, so it would be all right. Wouldn't it? She would understand.
Almost as if by choice, Eriol stilled his pace until it became a leisurely walk. He glanced at a child sitting propped up against the cool wall of a house. The child couldn't have been more than eight, ten at most, with a shock of curly, dark hair. From the distance, it could have been either a girl or a boy. For a moment, Eriol wondered what it would feel like to have a child, to be a father; he always appreciated the miracle of birth. What would it feel like to have something so wonderfully alive inside you? Or to know that you, you, gave life to another human being?
With a small smile, Eriol ambled up to the child, crouching down to be at the same level. From up close, he could tell that the kid was definitely a boy, with large glaring blue eyes and an elfin nose. The Lord felt something painful twist inside. How would his child look like? Would his boy have the same dark hair as him, the same sapphire-like eyes? Would his little girl have her mother's fair skin and pouty lips? Would he ever feel small, chubby hands wrap around his neck and call him "Papa"?
The boy glared at him in a manner so reminiscent of Syaoran it was almost humorous.
"Are you going to buy anything, Sir?" The child asked in thick English.
Eriol looked down at the boy's lap where on a small pan was a display of ten or so seashell necklaces. He picked one up, examining it on the slowly dying light. The multitude of shells varied in shapes, ranging from small cone-shaped ones (which were supposed to be worn on the front) to round ones. It wasn't anything extravagant, not even slightly comparing to the beautifully arranged necklaces he could buy at a jeweller's, but it held some sort of simplicity that held its own kind of beauty.
"Did you make this?" He asked the boy.
"No," the kid answered, eyes softening, "my sister did. My mother's always sick and we don't have enough money to buy medicine. So my sister made these to help out, you know, if we could get some money mother wouldn't be sick anymore."
"Where's your sister now?"
"She is working; the church needed someone to clean up and she offered to work for them."
Eriol smiled pensively, almost sadly at the boy. "How much do you ask for this?"
"Five lira, Sir." The child answered and bit his lip nervously. It was clear that he didn't have experience in the work field, his eyes screamed innocence and an almost ageless sorrow.
"Tell you what," began Eriol with what he hoped was a cheeky grin, "how about you give me the entire lot for a hundred?"
The boy counted on his fingers, trying to make sure that the price was right. He frowned when he reached what seemed to him an almost impossible calculation. "But, Sir, that's more than what I'm selling these for."
Eriol's smile widened. He ruffled the kid's hair playfully, not minding at that it was probably dirty from sitting all day in the dusty street. "It doesn't matter; I have more than enough money to spare."
Teasingly he pocked the boy in the arm and took out his wallet, giving him a few neat bills, amounting to one hundred lira. "Here you go. Oh, and here's an extra twenty for you and your sister. There's an ice cream parlour a block east from here; they sell very good chocolate sundaes there."
"B-but - Sir!" The boy tried to give the twenty back to the gentleman but Eriol refused, folding the boy's fingers over the bills.
"You probably need this money more than I do. Go home to your mother now, she'll be worried."
The boy shakily got up to his feet, his eyes seemingly huge with a mixture of awe and amazement. "Th-thank you, Sir," he stuttered before handing Eriol his bought goods and racing shyly down another street, where the throng of people increased.
Eriol smiled at the rapidly disappearing form of the boy and pocketed the necklaces. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the two men lingering not twenty feet away. For a moment he was afraid that they'd go after the boy, too, thinking that he had some sort of information about Tomoyo. But that fear soon disappeared when he realized that the possibilities of finding a single child in a city of such proportions was very slim.
Lithely, Eriol rose to his feet, dusting his slacks almost unconsciously. He tilted his chin up and continued on walking, feeling just a bit more light-hearted than he had five minutes prior. What he needed now was time, and hope. Time he needed to stall, time for the fake passport to be finished and for Tomoyo to be smuggled out of the country. Hope he needed as a back plan. If there wasn't enough time and prayer did not work, then he'd hope that Tomoyo would be safe and free.
The sun continued to slowly set, a welcome coolness spreading across the quickly deserting streets. And Eriol continued on walking, to where he didn't know; it didn't really matter. Before long, the streets were nearly empty save for a few wondering and no doubt drunken souls. The shadows of the two men grew as they came ever closer. From the corner of his eye, Eriol caught a glint of silver in one of their hands. He smirked, but the gesture seemed dead, even to him.
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Dark eyes glared at him from across the room and he fought the urge to fidget, or run like he'd done on the previous occasion that he was met with the same cold gaze.
"I heard that you are quite a respectable lord back in England," Kinomoto Touya drawled slowly, almost like you would before seeing your rival's dignity torn to shreds.
"Yes," answered Syaoran equally slowly, as if trying to decide how fast he could run if he said the wrong thing; everything he said seemed to be "wrong" to Touya. "I'm a soon to be count of the Li family."
"Aa. I've heard of the Li Clan all the way here, you must be quite the thought after man back in your homeland," the elder of the two men narrowed his eyes to slits.
"I try to remain humble," replied Syaoran.
"What makes you think that Sakura is good enough for you?"
"Touya!" The said girl exclaimed sharply from where she was sitting beside Syaoran on the divan.
"The question is: am I good enough for Sakura?" The Lord replied scathingly. Forget flight, if he was provoked enough, a war of colossal proportions would break out between them. As it was, his fingers were twitching to do some permanent damage to Touya's face.
"Are you?" Kinomoto raised an eyebrow and feigned to scrutinize the lord. "I see nothing special about you."
"That is totally unnecessary, Touya!" Sakura huffed, glaring at her brother, a furious heat blossoming on her cheeks. "You can't tell me who I can and cannot date, Touya! I'm almost eighteen and can decide for myself, if you haven't noticed yet. And Syaoran is special, I care about him and he cares about me, and that makes him special."
Touya regarded her strangely, maybe seeing his "little" sister for the first time in all of his years, then turned his calculating gaze to Syaoran. He really didn't have anything against the lord, would have even liked him if not for the fact that Sakura liked him. Despite all she said, she was still his little sister and he'd be dammed thrice if anything happened to her. 'It is always the pretty boys that hit the hardest,' Touya thought ruefully.
Oh, yes, he had experience with his sort. All rich and pretty and shining in their glamorous light. These men of the high class, so wonderful and beautiful in their self-imposed brilliance, who looked down on people and laughed contemptuously at other's frugality. Touya always thought them to be incredibly vain, empty for all but words, but still that light drew people closer. Like moths to a flame. And that was how he got trapped, too. Now, well, he'd be lucky to survive with his heart intact. Sakura didn't deserve such a punishment, she was young and innocent, and he should be able to protect her with all he had.
"How do I know that you won't just abuse my sister and then leave her? After all, she is not wealthy. What do you want from her?" Touya asked the young lord, narrowing his eyes.
"I want nothing from Sakura!" Replied Syaoran hotly. "I only want for her to be happy."
"What if her happiness means being away from you?"
Syaoran sighed resignedly. "Then I will —"
"He is my happiness, Touya, why can't you understand that?" Sakura said, puffing out her cheeks. "I love him, and being with him makes me happy."
Both males sucked in their breath and looked at the girl, both had different reasons for doing so. Furious heat spread along Syaoran's cheeks and ear lobes. He tried to stutter something out, but remained setting and gaping at her like a fish. Had she truly said that? Did she...?
"Sa-Sakura, do you – do you mean that?" He managed to breathe out shakily.
The girl blushed and ducked her head, looking at him underneath her bangs. Shyly, she nodded her head. "I think I've loved you since that first time I saw you standing at the masquerade. You were at the side and so different from everybody else." She giggled lightly. "You had this scowl on your face like you wanted the floor to swallow you whole. Since that time, I knew you were something else..."
"Sakura..."
Touya dug his nails into the velvet of his armchair, hard, when the two continued to look at each other sweetly and nothing else. He had not expected for things to go that far. Maybe he was hoping that she'd flutter her eyelashes coquettishly at him and sigh his name, but never actually come to love the count. Which meant that things were much worse than he thought.
"I love you, too."
Their lips sealed in a chaste kiss, both of their hearts swelling inside their rib cages. The grinding of Touya's jaws could be heard all the way in the parlour down the hall, but the two were oblivious in their bliss. And as Sakura wrapped her arms around her beloved's neck and the kiss was deepened, he growled, but again was ignored. Was the big brother wrong, then? The thought struck him. Would it be so bad to let his precious little sister have this bit of happiness?
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It was dark in her room, only the wane light from the gas lamp on her nightstand and outside filtering in. But this time it didn't matter that much. The darkness wasn't as scary; rather pleasant, actually. She hadn't been allowed to have light in her room before. No, the darkness wasn't the scary thing at the moment: it was the night and future.
She had spent nearly a week in hiding, along with Eriol and his friend. During those days, everything that she'd grown used to was slowly dissipating. The memories of that dark and silent place were not as potent; the fear was just a distant fragment, no longer hurting. She had learned to breathe freely again, to laugh like she never had been able to before. But still there lingered doubt.
Would there be place for her in that not so distant future? Were her troubles worth it? Was freedom worth her troubles? Could she truly forget? Eriol said that he'd help her, cleanse her of that dark place, of the vile touches. And she believed him because he spoke truth. He could help her, but at what cost? The price would be too high, Tomoyo feared. What if Eriol came to think of her as hideous and disgusting for all those things she did in the past? Would he forgive her? Would she forgive herself?
And there was her mother to think of. Her mother needed her, surely. Yes, Tomoyo had come to hate what was done to her, but she couldn't bring herself to hate the woman behind it. Sonomi was her mother after all, and whether she meant to do all those things or not, she still remained as her mother. Sonomi had loved her all along, despite how she showed that love; she just wanted for her daughter to be happy. And at that moment, Tomoyo felt such a strong sense of pity for the woman it almost made her dizzy. Sonomi was so misguided, so confused, could Tomoyo really hold anything against her?
Tomoyo glanced outside the window, where the sky was peppered with stars. Her stomach churned in anxiety. Eriol had gone out early in the morning saying to her that he'd return in a couple of hours, just in time for lunch. It was way past lunch at that point and still he did not return. Had something happened to him? It must have, otherwise he'd be home and safe with her.
She smiled softly, touching her cheek where he had kissed her 'goodbye' before a whispered 'I love you'. Did she love him? She asked herself and quickly answered affirmative. So quickly she had come to depend on him; her heart beat a tad harder and faster at the thought of something happening to him. Eriol did so much for her, sacrificed everything just so she could be safe. And a little selfish part of her gloated at that fact. Hiiragizawa Eriol deeply cared for her, and only her. And she returned that affection just as much. And it wasn't gratitude, either, it was deep and passionate and warm, not obliging.
Then her smile turned into a frown and her stomach jolted. He should have been home by now. What was keeping him? What could possibly happen?
And instantly she knew her answer. Her stomach twisted violently, making her want to vomit. Would her mother be capable of doing something like that? She would, Tomoyo concluded. And along with this sinking feeling also came an overwhelming fright. 'Oh, God, no! No! No! No! Not him, please, not him!'
Shakily, Tomoyo got to her feet, her throat thick and painful. She couldn't bear to lose him, not after what he came to mean to her. No, not now, not ever. But could she endanger Sakura and the rest because of her own recklessness?
Hands trembling, Tomoyo ripped out a blank page from a diary Eriol gave to her as a small gift and scribbled a note. The message finished, she folded it neatly and placed it on the centre of the bed where it would be easily noticeable. That done, she opened the door to her bedroom and crept quietly down the stairs, past the kitchens and the dining room and to the front door.
'Sorry,' the message read, simply, 'I forgot to say "goodbye" to Mother.'
(tsuzuku....?)
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I've had to delete some scenes from this for space issues and such, but oh well, at least you can't kill me for poor Eriol-kun. (And if you were wondering, yes, those really were assassins ^__^) Oh, and I'm not certain when the next part will be up 'cause I'm moving and you know how it goes.
Also, say Tomoyo had a child, would you prefer it to be a girl or boy? And a name, I need a name. I was thinking either Yoshiki (X Japan is a religion; Yoshiki is a God) or Saeki, or maybe Satoshi, or Daisuke or Kamui (Gakuto Kamui has a permanent shrine in my closet *purrs*). (Notice how those are all bishounen names ^__^)
