Cardhunter
Chapter Three: I look like a girl!
A story by Shiozaki
Shiozaki says: I have a good reason this time for the lateness. . .I do! I was having my finals! But, actually, I'm writing this in the MIDDLE of my finals. . .hmm. . .
Summary: The Cards are now Sakura Cards and every one knew peace. But having a power so great means having to fight those who would steal it from her. Would Sakura kill to defend the Cards and protect her loved ones?
Warning: Angst, recollections, trauma. . .all the things we love about fanfics. Will be yaoi, slash, het, etc.
Review replies:
Yasha Misaki, Ashura Akuma, Emerald Phoenix524, Satan's Advocate: Thank you! I'm really sorry this took so long! I had my finals. . . .*cough*. . . .But! I;m having my holidays now so expect faster updates! *cringes* hopefully. . . .
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Takumi Kinomoto (they had insisted that he used their last name for the time being), stared deep into the full-length mirror. He cocked his head to the side, studying his reflection as if he had never seen it before in his life. And he hadn't.
He had light brown hair that was very fine. The strands that floated with any stray breeze shone gold in the little light that there was. His hair was rather long, just a bit more than Yukito-san's and fell over his eyes no matter how many times he pushed them back. His eyes themselves were a pale green but when shadowed, they were as dark as Sakura-san's. Maybe even darker. His face he felt, was nothing remarkable. He had a fine bone structure, far too delicate for his taste ("Makes me look like a girl," he grumbled under his breath). The rest of him was as delicate and fine-boned as his face. All in all, a very fragile package.
He brought up his hands close to his face. His fingers were long, tapering gently and not a callous roughened his palms. So whatever he did before this, he probably haven't done much heavy work or even played any sports. Barefooted, he wiggled his toes experimentally. Nope, still no revelation forthcoming.
I think I should be panicking by now, Takumi thought distantly. He was pretty sure that any sane person would be after the day he had. He lost his memories for god's sake! Surely he would feel at least, a bit worried. But all he felt was a strange detachment, an almost morbid curiosity with his vanished memories.
Maybe I was actually a famous star and I had an accident and then. . .nah, I don't have any scars. He had checked. Not even a birthmark. His body and face was a clean slate that told no clues. He wasn't even sure if he was really Japanese. Sure, he spoke the language fluently but he could tell that it had no distinct dialect to it. Maybe he's an expatriate's son kidnapped for ransom?
Nah. He studied his reflection again glumly. It would be just my luck if I was actually working at a Soapland, ne? God knows I'm pretty enough, he thought sourly.
"Takumi-san? What are you doing?"
He quickly looked up into the mirror. His reflection had been joined by Fujitaka sensei. The older man was smiling, concern filling his eyes behind the glasses. A friendly hand squeezed his shoulder gently. Takumi offered his benefactor a brief smile.
"I'm just. . ." he gestured absently at the mirror, "You know, wondering what I looked like. Weird huh?"
Fujitaka shook his head. "No, not weird. Understandable."
Takumi sighed. "Still. . ." he trailed off and burst out suddenly, "Why am I not, you know, panicking?! I should be! I lost my memories and all I could think about is whether I used to work at a Soapland!" His hands flying wildly, Takumi glared accusingly at the forlorn mirror. "I mean, look at me! I look like a girl! And just listen to me! I'm more worried about the fact that I look like a girl! What's wrong with me?!"
A soft chuckle stopped his tirade and Takumi flushed, realizing what a ridiculous picture he must have made, standing clad only in his jeans and yelling at one of the kindest person he ever met. It's a wonder he hasn't been thrown out yet!
Again, his shoulder was squeezed gently. "Takumi-san, I can pretty safely say that you are panicking right now."
"Oh," Takumi deflated. "That's good. I think." He bit his lower lip nervously. "Kinda stupid, huh?"
"Not at all. Like I said before, understandable. In fact, I have to admire your strength. You've been handling it pretty well so far," Fujitaka smiled.
"I doubt it," Takumi muttered under his breath, his toes scuffing against the wooden floor. Long, slim fingers came into view and tilted his chin firmly up.
"Takumi-san," Fujitaka started, slowly, but seriously. "No matter what, never doubt that we are here to listen to you. If you have any trouble whatsoever, please, talk to us. If not to me, then to any of my children. We wish to help you."
Takumi flushed again, this time the embarrassment mixed with pleasure. "You and your family are so nice to me," he mumbled, face still bright red. "I don't understand why," he admitted.
"Why shouldn't we?" Fujitaka countered back. "Get dressed. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes."
"Okay. . . .and sensei?" Fujitaka turned from where he had been about to exit the room.
"Yes?" he smiled again.
"I just want to say. ." Takumi started awkwardly. "I just. . .thank you."
"You're welcome."
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He hadn't any clothes with him. But the Kinomoto's kindness knew no boundaries. Yukito-san lent him some of his clothes, since he was of closer build to him than Touya-san. But even then the sleeves fell at least a good two inches past his fingers and the hem of his jeans dragged across the floor. Resigned, Takumi had thank them profusely anyway and simply rolled back the cuffs and folded the hems. He felt a little ridiculous but it was better than walking around naked.
Despite his protests also, Fujitaka sensei insisted that they go hunt for some clothes tomorrow at the mall, being a Sunday. Takumi had flushed again, meekly pointing out that he had no money. And that he didn't want to be more of a burden to them. Fujitaka laughed it off, saying he was happy to do it. Touya after all, wouldn't let him buy clothes for himself anymore. He had said that since he was always working part-time somewhere, he had more than enough money to buy clothes for himself. So Fujitaka was more than happy to have another boy to buy clothes for. Sakura had agreed to the idea enthusiastically from the start and decided that they had to take Tomoyo, her best friend along. She had a great taste in clothes and would love to help out.
So clad in his too-long jeans and t-shirt, Takumi trudged down the stairs to be greeted with the delicious aroma of steak wafting from the kitchen. His mouth watered with the stomach-rumbling smells and he gratefully joined in setting the table. As he was arranging the forks and knives, he realized with a start that the dining table had been added on to and that instead of five settings, they had nine.
"Kinomoto-san?" he tugged shyly at Fujitaka's apron, fiddling with his sleeve cuffs. "Are we having guests tonight?"
Fujitaka stopped his salad-tossing to give him a startled look. "I'm sorry, didn't we tell you? Sakura-san's friends were rather worried, hearing about this afternoon's incident. They came by when you were sleeping earlier so I decided to have all of them over for dinner. Do you mind?"
Takumi shook his head so hard, his hair flew every which way. "No! Of course not!" he fiddled again with his sleeves. "It's just. . I'm making so much trouble for everyone and. . . ."
"Takumi-san." The tone was firm and brooked no nonsense. His fiddling was stopped by a firmer hand and Fujitaka stooped down to stare into his eyes. "What have I said about that?"
"That you like having another boy around the house and that I'm supposed to shut up about being a bother?" he replied meekly.
"Well, not in your phrasing exactly but you get the message," Fujitaka laughingly told him. "Now go finish setting the table. You'll like her friends. They're nice."
Takumi did as he was told, greeting Touya and Yukito who came down a few minutes later with a cheerful smile. Touya helped out with the rest of the tableware while Yukito joined Fujitaka in the kitchen. Takumi couldn't help his eyes from bugging out at the amount of food Fujitaka was whipping out. Mounds of potato mash, forests of steamed broccoli drizzled lightly with butter, piles of carrots, green peas, the huge bowl of salad and the big, fat juicy steaks sizzling on the hot plates.
"Are we feeding an army?" Takumi asked, dazed.
"Oh, I eat enough for an entire regiment," Yukito told him cheerfully, swiping a piece of broccoli. "Akizuki-san as well," he added.
Touya mumbled something uncomplimentary underneath his breath about leeches that managed to stay so light despite eating like a pig. Yukito shushed him with a look and Touya subsided. Albeit grumbling occasionally about overgrown glomping queens. With Touya's help, the table was quickly set and even Sakura had bounded down the stairs. Throwing a smile at Takumi, she went over to Fujitaka and tugged lightly on his apron strings.
"Daddy, about. . ." she gave him a significant look.
Fujitaka ruffled her hair fondly. "Don't worry, I've set aside enough even for those two."
Takumi watched the exchange curiously but decided that it wasn't his place to enquire too deeply about it. All of them helped in bringing out the mounds of food Fujitaka had whipped up. As they were setting the last hot plate on the table, the doorbell rang. Takumi jumped, startled, as Sakura squealed happily and ran for the door. Takumi followed behind Fujitaka, again, fiddling with his sleeves.
Sakura's friends were loud and boisterous in their greetings, well, at least, one girl was. Judging from her excited squeals and spontaneous glomping of anyone within a five feet radius, Takumi guessed that this was the glomp queen Touya was complaining about. True enough, Touya had to fend off an attack, the girl pouting cutely until she subsided after a mild glare from Yukito.
For a few minutes, thanks to the glomping, the doorway was crowded and noisy, Takumi losing himself in the background until they finally moved inside the house to the dining room. But before Takumi could lose himself completely in the laughing and joking crowd, Sakura had grabbed his arm and dragged him into the middle.
"Everyone!" she said brightly. "This is Takumi! Takumi, these are my friends! This is Daidouji Tomoyo, my best friend. . ." she chattered on, introducing everyone with a speed he found mildly overwhelming.
Daidouji Tomoyo, the best friend, was a beautiful girl with pale skin and long black hair that reached her waist. Her smile was dainty and as pretty as the rest of her. The next to be introduced, which Sakura did with much blushing and coy looks, was a boy taller than he was with dark brown hair and darker chocolate brown eyes. Judging by the same frequency of coy looks the boy, Li Syaoran gave, Takumi guessed that they must be dating. Looking up to Touya's fierce glare which Syaoran happily returned, Takumi assumed he was correct.
The glomp queen, Akizuki Nakuru ("Call me Nakuru!") didn't spare him from the hugging. In fact, he got an especially enthusiastic one as Nakuru declaimed with all drama and squealing that "Oh my god! You are so~ cute! Your hair! Your face! Aah! You're so pretty!" Takumi wished that he had died this afternoon in the accident. Touya's sympathetic look appeared to agree with him and it was only after he turned rather blue in the face from lack of oxygen did they finally manage to get Nakuru off of him.
But it was the last introduced to him that really got to Takumi. The boy, Eriol Hiiragizawa, was way taller than he was, at least a head taller. Topped by long black hair that Takumi was envious to notice, did not make him look like a girl, he was as pale as Tomoyo-san, the kind of paleness that made you think of elegance and camellias rather than sickly washed-out. The eyes were strangely compelling, a lavender-grey that was at once, wise, humorous and slightly mocking. The glasses didn't even detract from his looks. If anything, they added to that slight air of mystery that surrounded him. For some reason, Takumi could not think of him as the same age. He gave off the air of. . .what do you call it? Yeah, an 'old soul'. He looked wise beyond his years.
So Takumi comforted himself with the fact that he was just intimidated with that unflappable air of calm that Eriol exuded with ease, mirrored to a lesser degree by Tomoyo. Yes, it was just that. That and the fact that he was rather overwhelmed by all the new people after an especially traumatic day. So what he did upon being introduced to Eriol Hiiragizawa ("Call me Eriol," complete with a crooked smile) was perfectly excusable.
He squeaked and hid himself behind the nearest wall. Which happened to be Touya.
He tried to ignore the looks he got for that while blushing madly as Eriol's crooked smile became even more crooked. Dinner was going to be very trying indeed.
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Touya's instinctive reaction to the Brat was just that; instinctive. He felt his lips curl into that familiar snarl as he bared his fangs to the boy that had the temerity to steal his little sister. He was somewhat comforted that the Brat still gave back as good as he got. Weirdly enough, he felt that the day the Brat wilted under his glare would be the day he'd be truly worried about his kaijuu. Not that he wasn't worried already about Sakura. . .no. . .he'd just be. . a bit more worried. Not that it meant that he approved of the Brat!
As he was glaring at Syaoran, Sakura blithely ignoring him as she went on with the introductions (but after she gave his shin a good kick), Touya was peripherally aware that Takumi was holding up well under the barrage of new faces. He pitied the boy though, when he got Akizuki's Special Deluxe Glomp Attack.
Ouch.
But a most interesting thing happened when Eriol was introduced. (Touya hated his guts as well but he preferred to keep his glares for the Brat. It was wasted on Eriol as he'd only smile in response). Takumi, after some rapid blinking, blushed an alarmingly cute shade of pink and did something that made Touya's eyebrows climb up into his hair.
Takumi squeaked and hid behind the nearest person. Which was him.
Unbidden, a grin tugged the corners of his glare. Takumi reminded him of Sakura, in her younger days when she first met Yukito. She blushed as badly as Takumi did as well. He wondered whether this meant the same as well.
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Eriol Hiiragizawa is not an evil person. Most assuredly not.
Sure, he had the capacity to be such. After all, he is half of the reincarnation of the most powerful sorcerer at that time, Clow Read. Though he gave up most of his power as a successor of the Cards was finally chosen, he still had the wisdom to leave even experienced adults gaping and fumbling foolishly in his presence. But he disdained from using his talents as such. His days of manipulation of the future and the lives of hapless innocents were long over. The Cards are with a new mistress and he was as happy as he could be, living in Japan with the one he regarded fondly as the daughter he never had.
So yes, Eriol is not evil. Nor did he find the sport of people-baiting a worthy time occupier. Though Syaoran is a delightful exception. If anything, he was known to be fiercely protective of those he counted as family and friends.
But could he be blamed when this new addition to their little group, Takumi Kinomoto, made his forked tail literally lash around in excitement and that little thing he liked to call his inner voice (which had a mind of its own), chortle with evil delight? This Takumi was almost illegally cute with that fine, goldish brown hair that fell with graceful abandon into his eyes, eyes which Eriol was delighted to note, just slightly paler than Sakura's forest green. The boy barely reached his chin and his too-delicate stature enhanced that air of feminity which he was so fond of. After all, why else did he create his Guardians as they were?
Eriol Hiiragizawa, after quite a few hundred years of experience under his belt, is a true fan of art and beauty. And Takumi Kinomoto is surely that; a work of art and beauty. What's left is to see whether this delightful package hid a more exquisite depth.
When he smiled his trademark smile and the boy Takumi blushed madly and hid behind Touya, he felt his smile grew wider. Truly this year was going to be quite. . .interesting.
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Dinner proved to be at once, both a painful and entertaining experience for Takumi. More of the former to be exact. He found, to his embarrassment, Eriol sitting right next to him. Takumi was very careful with the fork and knife.
The dinner conversation flowed fast and cheerful, the main contributors Sakura, Akizuki and Yukito. Syaoran interjected once in a while with a worshipful look at Sakura, Touya keeping his glare up and Fujitaka presiding over them all with a quietly beaming smile. Eriol and Takumi were relatively quiet, though Eriol's was more of waiting for an opportunity to give his own comments which were delightfully dry, witty and sure to provoke someone. Tomoyo, though quiet as well, put in her say when she felt she should but they all made sure to include Takumi in their conversation. But Takumi couldn't. Not really. All the friendly conversation and gentle ribbing brought home harder than anything the fact that he might have his own family out there who was waiting for him. Family that was seated around a dining table as well and maybe wondering where their son or brother was.
It added to his already growing discomfort over his earlier reaction to Eriol, Takumi plagued with an increasing unease. If anyone noticed his gradually pale face, they didn't comment on it. But Eriol, more than once, gave him a quiet, speculative look.
After dinner, they adjourned to the living room with caramel puddings for desert. Takumi took his quietly and sat at the farthest corner of the sofa. He was almost horrified to note that Eriol took the seat next to him. After finishing the pudding, coffees were brought out and the talk broke into little groups, Sakura and Syaoran with heads close together, Touya, Yukito and Akizuki in a little word scrimmage and Fujitaka telling Tomoyo about his latest research. Eriol turned to Takumi who tried to fade into the upholstery of the sofa with another crooked smile.
"You've been pretty quiet, Takumi-san," Eriol said in a low voice.
Takumi fidgeted, fiddling with his sleeves again. He tried to give a quick, casual shrug but failed. Instead, he was wracked with sudden shivers, hunched over and hugging himself desperately to stop it.
"Takumi-san?" Eriol's alarmed tone caused the conversation in the room to stop. He could practically feel everyone's concerned gaze on him. Standing up quickly, Takumi mumbled an apology and fled up to his room. He flew through the door, not bothering with the light switch and scrambled into a tight ball on the bed. He kept his face pressed into his raised knees as the shaking grew worse. As much as he tried to stop, dry sobs wracked his frame as well.
But even in the midst of his breakdown, Takumi could sense a new presence in the room. The musky scent of vanilla told him more clearly than sight that the intruder was Eriol. But Eriol did nothing but to sit on the bed next to him. A warm, large hand was pressed comfortingly on top of his head.
"Everything will work out in the end," Eriol said quietly. "It'll get better."
Eriol stayed with him until he fell into an exhausted sleep.
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to be continued
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Shiozaki says: Well, that was unexpected. Eriol comforting Takumi like that I mean. Tsk, the characters can really take over our writing don't they? As I'm writing this, I have just finished a 4-hour exam paper. Yes, 4 hours. Oh, poor me. Review, ne?
PS: I'll be having my holidays soon (or in the middle of it already) so yay! More updates! Keep a lookout ne?