Identity's Past
by AlterEthereal
Syaoran returned to find his princess, but discovered she has been missing in action for years. Now, a mysterious, distant girl has arrived in the city... could his princess be right under his nose?
Ok, here's the breakdown: the only person who actually reviewed me since last chapter was sweet-captor. Doubt Mayo also reviewed, but she's my niece, so that one doesn't count. (sorry Leah...) ^_^; Anyway, after the stunt pulled by the former when she reviewed, I decided that it was worth it and that I would post this anyway. So this chapter is dedicated solely to you, sweet-captor! Enjoy!
Alter-chan/Althea: well, apparently, the others haven't found Ave yet... or else they did find her and got killed... i didn't think those butterfly nets would work... *hits self with frying pan* must. think. happy. thoughts... i miss Leif. damnit Althea! i do NOT!! hm... not happy enough. looks like i'll just have to settle for this: DISCLAIMER: i do not own CCS... CLAMP does. if they would like to hand it over, i would gladly take it, but i don't see that happening any time in the near future. ^_^
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Chapter Five: Dead (In Your Eyes)
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She tried as hard as she could to obscure her anxiety, but now and then she emitted an audible gulp, as if something was lodged in her throat.
She recognized the man who ushered them inside: he was rather tall, with light brown hair beginning to gray near the scalp. Probably from stress, she figured. He wore prestigious glasses except where they cracked in the left lens. She imperatively felt the need to tend to whatever aches and pains plagued him, and to fix his broken sight. She remained stationary, however, unwilling to give in to her loving disposition.
"So Li, who's this lovely young lady you've brought home with you?"
Home? What does he mean by "home"? She wondered.
"Just a friend." He replied haplessly.
"Well, what's her name?"
Syaoran turned toward his lady companion expectantly.
"Artemis," she uttered calmly, though slightly faltering.
"Artemis…" the man seemed to contemplate. "The Greek goddess of the moon. Someone gave you a very pretty name." She smiled nervously on the outside, but on the inside, the irony of his statement made her cringe. She wondered for a moment whether or not he would ask if she was ill, as most people did when they noted the paleness of her skin. "Are you new to this city?" he asked instead.
"Yes," she lied, turning her eyes to the stained carpet.
"Would you like a piece of advice?"
She looked up questioningly at the man, whose expression had unexpectedly turned to from one of kindness to one of warning.
"Don't go in the factory."
"Why not?"
"It's oppressive. You're better off if they don't know you exist."
She suddenly felt lonely, and realized that Syaoran wasn't speaking. Upon receiving her glance, he turned away and began strolling toward another part of the house. The living room.
"Let's join him, shall we?"
The girl merely nodded, not knowing what other answer to give.
~*~
Syaoran had seated himself on a large couch in the midst of the clean, somehow empty, room. He imagined what would be going through the girl's mind at the moment she walked in, and one question in particular she would be dying to have answered.
Fulfilling his predictions, she inquired, "Do you live here by yourself?"
"No," came a rough, masculine voice projected not from an individual in the small room, but from a figure descending creaky stairs. The second test was approaching. When it arrived, it was revealed as a tall, slender boy, seemingly quite a bit older than Syaoran. He wore a grease-stained, white blouse and black work pants, and had some sort of sac slung over his shoulder. He had dark hair and coarse eyes, which looked from one person to the next as he entered, stopping on the pretty newcomer. "Who's that?"
She put a cautious step forward, and although her steps were shaky, her eyes were hard and cold, trying to hold back tears that threatened to form in them. "Artemis," she replied, extending a hand. "Pleased to meet you."
He shook her hand almost eagerly, then turned to Syaoran. "Where'd you pick up a girl like this, huh?"
"That's not your business." He rose slowly, a slight tone of anger infecting his words.
"Were you out bar-hopping again?"
"You're the drinker."
At this point, the eldest man intervened. "This is my son, Tory."
The girl acknowledged with a curt nod as the two younger boys sat down, until she was the only person left standing. She eyed each possible seat for herself critically, then finally placed herself next to Syaoran. He figured that would be her choice, but still slightly blushed noticing how close she sat. A pinkish hue also developed on her face, he soon saw.
Tory seemed a little disappointed, but overall unfettered by her choice of seating arrangements. His father continued. This would be the third test.
"This may seem odd, but you remind me a lot of my daughter. I think if I could see her today, she'd look quite like you." He saw the grave expression on her face and interpreted it as inquiry. "She left when she was even younger than you… maybe three or four years ago."
"Five." Syaoran corrected him in a soft tone, as if remembering a sad event from the past. It was a little painful, even for him. The topic hadn't come up for a long while, two people wanting to put memory behind them, and a third clinging for dear life to the shred of memory he had left.
"Thank you. Five years ago."
~*~
Five years, huh… she was already 17, and she hadn't known it. She heard her own story as if she were dead, flowers on her grave and pictures stashed in a dusty photo album to dig up when someone turns 60. She was now unable to suppress the tears that welled in her viridian eyes. She glanced to her left to see Syaoran, ahead to see Tory, and to her right to see his father. They all seemed so grief-stricken; it just made the tears worse. Having no place to hide her treacherous eyes before the clear, warm drops fell, she turned them toward the ground. It, too, unfortunately, seemed to know the guilt that lingered in them, so she bit her lip and sucked back what she could of her sullen disposition, then got slowly to her feet. Syaoran looked up at her with a hard expression obscuring the sadness she was sure was there, as if to ask her something of grave importance that she didn't want to answer.
She managed to extend a quiet farewell to the party, then proceeded toward the door. Somewhere behind her, she heard the shuffle of a figure standing, then closing in on her position, and all she could do was walk. She didn't want to leave them so unbalanced, so melancholy, but she couldn't stand to see their tired faces as they remembered someone known only to them as dead. She turned the doorknob and walked out, vaguely aware of a presence following her. She heard the door close softly at her back, then the sound of her own footsteps quickening. She soon realized she was running, to and from nowhere.
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Alter-chan/Althea: so there it is, folks. i'm sorry it took so long to get up here, but like i said before, all insanity is ensuing around me. on the bright side, my birthday is the 9th, so hopefully i'll get to relax a little then (perhaps even work a bit on Identity's Past). 'til then, though, rock on and have a nice day.
p.s. - be sure to extend a thank you to sweet-captor, since she's basically the one responsible for me putting this up here. ^_^
~AlterEthereal