"Why don't you tell me?" They were walking together along the jogging path. Since the death tolls had gone up, no one frequented the park at night anymore.
He shook his head, smiling. "I can't get a straight answer from you anymore, can I?" He sighed and they walked in silence for a little longer. "Did you know I have four sisters?" He nodded when she looked at him. She was white and fluttery in the moonlight, like a goddess. "Four. They love makeup and jewelry and clothes. They'll play dress-up with anything that moves -- including me." He have a short laugh, and she giggled at the image.
"How old are they?" she asked, expecting them to be very young.
"Late twenties, early thirties." He smiled, and she stared at him for a moment. Then they both started laughing -- loud, honest laughter that rang through the park.
When they calmed down, he kissed her -- slow and sweet -- and drew his sword to face the enemies they'd attracted.
She watched him for a moment, allowing her heart to ache for love of him, then turned and almost cheerfully cast the Fiery spell.
"Erase," she murmured when she was finished. She usually cleaned up from her room before she fell asleep -- the Erase spell worked well even over distances -- but tonight she felt extra-responsible and so cleaned up the bodies right away.
"So that's why I never hear about this on the news. Useful spell."
"It comes in handy." She smiled at him, and he paused to just look at her for a long moment. Her skirt was light and airy and the top corsetted her in, emphasizing her slenderness. She looked like a swan, and she was smiling at him. "You're very strong," she told him, her eyes behind the mask caressing his face.
"And you're beautiful." He reached to touch her, but she danced out of the way, laughter on her lips. He played along, allowing his fingers to brush her waist before he swung her into his arms. There, she sobered, her posture swaying uncertainly.
"I'm still . . . scared, Syaoran."
His body turned heavy and his arms loosened, not quite letting her go. "Why?!" She flinched at the pain in his voice. "Why can't you trust me? You can trust me with your life, but you can't trust me with your heart. You can't even trust me with your identity!" He was yelling, and he didn't care. "Do I even mean anything to you?"
Stricken by his words, she fell to her knees. Her skirts pooled around her and she covered her face. Automatically feeling like a louse, he knelt in front of her and took her hands in his.
"Not fair, I know. Sorry."
"No," she sniffled, "you're right. I'm sorry." She raised her face and looked at him. "I promise, Syaoran, that I'll meet you at the festival that's coming up. And before the night is over, you'll know who I am."
A slow smile bloomed on his face. "It's a deal."