Fountain of Age
Summary: AU. Syaoran and Eriol are on the trail of the Fountain of Youth... a trail that would lead them inevitably to Tomoeda... and Sakura...
Disclaimer: I don't own Card Captor Sakura. None of it: manga, anime, little plushie Keros; I own nothing.
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Chapter 15: In Penguin Park...
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The sun sunk behind the large penguin slide. Eriol watched it, rather morosely, Supi sitting on his lap. He knew what was about to happen, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted it to.
He blinked. Tomoyo was standing at the edge of the park, framed amongst the branches. She smiled at the sight of him. He stood up to meet her, and she rushed forward to embrace him.
"Eriol!" she exclaimed. The boy staggered under the sudden weight, his eyes on Tomoyo's train of bodyguards. Were they staying?
"Hiiragizawa," one of the bodyguards said.
"Uh, yes," Eriol said. He didn't want them to stay. Things would be awkward as it was.
"Thanks for bringing me here," Tomoyo addressed her entourage from Eriol's shoulder. "Please wait for me at the car. We'll be fine."
The bodyguards left the park, leaving the two teenagers to themselves. Tomoyo let go of Eriol, reluctantly. He hadn't hugged her back. Something was going on; something that couldn't be good.
"So," she asked, concentrating on why they were there, "what do you want me to do?" Tomoyo couldn't wait to be immortalized in paint. She saw a canvas and an easel standing next to him.
The boy dropped to the bench, and indicated the spot next to him; the one right in front of the easel. He lacked his typical smile, and it made him seem tired and worn out.
"Just right here," he said. Then added, almost hesitantly, "I finished the painting."
"Oh." She plopped down next to him. Tomoyo kept smiling as she examined the gorgeous finished product. Her painted self wore a kimono, and held a parasol in one hand. The other hand was busy catching cherry blossom petals. And of course, the eyes: the eyes that seemed to know exactly what she felt. Confused. A little sad.
"It's beautiful," she gushed. "But you made a mistake. The project says to imagine what I'll look like in twenty years. This looks like I haven't aged a day."
Eriol was petting Supi like the thing was a real cat. "Will you really," he said, "look any different than now?"
"Of course!" said Tomoyo, obviously. "Everybody grows up-"
"That's not true."
Tomoyo did not like that answer. What was Eriol trying to say? She tried to focus on the painting. "This is marvelous, Eriol, it's almost as if, um-"
He shoved an opened envelope into her lap. "I can't go to the art show."
"Huh?" Tomoyo looked at it, and realized that it was the invitation she'd mailed him. There was his address, her address; written in her own hand. "Why?" Tomoyo slipped the paper out, unfolded it, and was about to read the contents when a smaller piece of paper fluttered out of the folds.
She didn't remember sending him a piece of paper that size. Carefully, Tomoyo scraped it off the ground, and read the words on it instead.
Try to find me in Tomoeda.
"I see." Tomoyo tucked the invitation back into the envelope, but left the note in her hand, squinting at it in different angles, then flipping it upside down. "Too bad then. They were going to show some of your work."
Eriol said nothing.
"Is that why you came?" Tomoyo asked. "To 'try and find me in Tomoeda'?"
Eriol seemed to find it difficult to respond. He played with the stuffed animal, like he was nervous and it cured him of it.
"I guess it was only a matter of time," she said. "You knew it. I knew it. All we needed was some concrete."
The boy's silence continued. Tomoyo wondered how he felt. Was he sad? Happy? Mixed?
"Did you have fun in London?" she asked. "I've heard it's a beautiful city."
"It- it was all right." He would not stop fingering the stuffed animal, would not look at anything but his lap, would not connect with her.
"Tell me," Tomoy said, gently, almost in a whisper. She leaned in so that he could hear her better. "Which do you like better? London, or Tomoeda?"
No sound filled the air. Tomoyo watched as the lights flickered on. The branches swayed with the wind, while the penguin slide remained stonily unmoved. Somewhere, a frog let out a loud soulful croak.
"I can't-" Eriol said, "I can't choose."
"Tell me," Tomoyo said again, ignoring his answer, moving on, "Was it a mistake? Or did you do it on purpose?"
"It was a mistake." He finally looked up. He spat out the answer; the words could not escape his mouth quickly enough. "I didn't mean to do it. If I had known, I would never have-"
She kissed him. It felt like he'd surfaced from a long, long swim. The air around him grew cold; he could feel his skin prickling. There was a moment in which he felt as though he was beyond; beyond pain, beyond breathing, beyond everything. Like he'd climbed as high as a person could ever go.
Then he was back on the bench, shivering. His clothes trapped him, held him tight in a suffocating embrace. Supi was flying off in the direction of Nakuru and her car, and he was left all alone with Tomoyo.
"There you go then," she was saying. She stood up, ready to leave. "You're immune now, Eriol. I hope that makes you happy." Tomoyo waited for an answer, but the man sitting in Eriol's place was too self-absorbed in a freezing cold only he could feel.
"Have a happy life."
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Author's Notes: Chapter sixteen is the last one.
Thanks to my reviewers, as always: Hikari Mizu (Took me a long time to guard that twist), Crystal Tearz (Please don't faint), ccsbrat (Wait until after the chapter sixteen, then please tell me specifically what's confusing. Be glad to help you out), sakura11 (hee!) and the person who signed themselves as ... (interesting...)