The only thing I pretty much have to say is that this is one of those, "spur-of-the-moment" fics.

Disclaimer: This one doesn't own Card Captor Sakura. This one doesn't wish to be sued.

Summary: Not all true love has a happy ending. [ET][One-shot]

Because

The pavement was cold and wet. The grit of the asphalt dirtied her hands. The passersby froze and stared at the mess in the middle of the road. She slowly turned her head, smoky hair matted to the side of her face. She brushed it away and approached the growing group of people huddled around a spectacle on the small town road. She gradually made her way through the circle, and reached the center of it all. She gasped, and her eyes welled with tears.

A man draped in a navy-blue raincoat lay lifeless on the ground.

She recognized the raincoat as the one she had given him for Christmas. It even had his initials sewn onto the sleeve. 'E.H.' it read in large, gold letters on the sleeve. A few feet away, his wire-rimmed glasses rest near the storm drain, its lens' cracked and broken. She rushed to his side, fighting back the tears. She had to make sure. It couldn't be him. Of course it wouldn't be. There wasn't a good enough reason. He wouldn't have saved her—not after what happened. She turned his body upright to look at his face. His pale-skinned face was battered and bruised from the impact, and was dirtied as her hands were. Blood lined the left side of his face, and his lips were a pale, purple pigment.

She pushed his bangs out of the way of his eyes, and clasped his hands. 'Wake up. Please. You can't leave like this. . .' His eyelids were still, and none could tell if he was breathing or not. She brought him up a bit—his head rested on her lap. She wept and stroked his face, hoping for a miracle. Just like the miracle when they both fell in love again.

They were two of a kind; they both were seemingly perfect people—they had money, charisma, and intelligence. But, both of them had been burned by love, badly. Before, she loved her deeply, her best friend, the sweet girl known by everyone in the small town—so much that she helped her love the stubborn, chocolate-brown haired boy that came to them all those years ago, even though she loved her. She tried convincing herself that her best friend's happiness was hers as well. He came a year or two later, entering their classroom with his lips curved into a knowing smile. He caused the dangerous situations that happened, and she recorded it all on a tape. For a year it happened, and when it was finished, he left, never to come back again.

Or so she thought.

He did return to their small town, years and years since they last met. Her best friend—the one she loved—had gotten married already. So had everyone else that was like family to her. But he hadn't. She was surprised—he was with their teacher when he left, but not now. He explained that he was the extra person, and chose to leave. They comforted each other, helping the other survive the pain. Little by little, they both sank deeper into something more. But it had to happen.

His former lover called him to return. She had heard him and their former teacher speaking on the phone.

"Come back…" a feminine voice cooed.

"No, I can't…I need Tomoyo as much as she needs me." he returned, voice uncertain.

"Is that really your answer?" the voice cooed again.

"…I don't know."

She threw a fit immediately and snapped at him. She made accusations, jumped to conclusions, and shouted at him. But through all the rage, she admitted to him and herself, that she loved him. Deeply.

After catching her words, she rushed out the door and left him standing dumbstruck and shocked. Maybe it had been the tears that blurred her vision, or the ringing in her ears—but either way, she didn't see the car coming toward her. And he saved her, at the cost of his own life.

She could hear the sirens of the ambulance and paramedics making their way through the group. It didn't matter that her dress was soiled and ruined. It didn't matter that that her face was tear streaked and her eyes were swollen from the tears. It didn't matter that the blood had gotten onto her hands. All that mattered was him. He was everything to her—her life, her dreams, her everything.

"Why Eriol?" she asked aloud, quiet so not to have everyone hear. But she didn't expect an answer from him.

She heard his voice—the voice that comforted her through all the tears. "Because," they carried him away on a stretcher, and loaded him into the back of the ambulance. But she still heard a small whisper over all the commotion.

"I love you."

She hoped for a miracle to happen, just like when they fell in love again.

But, not all miracles come true.

Owari